Threshold of Fire: A Novel of Fifth Century Rome
Haasse, Hella S.; Miller, Anita; Blinstrub, Nini
Idioma: inglés
Editorial: Academy Chicago Pub, 1993
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N° de ref. del artículo 089733390X
- Título
- Threshold of Fire: A Novel of Fifth Century Rome
- Autor
- Haasse, Hella S.; Miller, Anita; Blinstrub, Nini
- Editorial
- Academy Chicago Pub
- Año de publicación
- 1993
- Estado
- New
- Encuadernación
- Encuadernación de tapa dura
- Idioma
- inglés
- ISBN 10
- 089733390X
- ISBN 13
- 9780897333900
“Sinopsis” puede pertenecer a otra edición de este título.
Fragmento. © Reproducción autorizada. Todos los derechos reservados.
Threshold of Fire
A Novel of Fifth Century Rome
By Hella S. Haasse, Anita Miller, Nini BlinstrubChicago Review Press Incorporated
All rights reserved.
Contents
Introduction,
I. The Prefect,
II. Claudius Claudianus,
III. The Prefect,
Glossary,
CHAPTER 1
THE PREFECT
1.
The leather curtain closes behind the soldiers. Uneasily, the prisoners survey the judgment hall and find it changed: hazy early morning light filters through the curved windows cut into the masonry between the columns. All of those who have been brought in are familiar with the Prefect's tribunal from the period before the Gothic invasion: some of them had appeared here as witnesses, others as accusers — one of them, ten years before, as the accused. At that time there had been a view, through the open gallery, of an inner court and the walls of the former temple of Tellus. Now nothing of the outside world is visible except the light coming through the high window recesses.
The only person in the room who does not look about, but keeps his eyes fixed on the floor at his feet — black and white meandering mosaics — can tell from the change in sounds — until then subdued as usual — that the Prefect has entered. A chair is being moved.
In the foreground of the Prefect's field of vision (on occasions like this, the praetorians are nothing more to him than part of the furniture: self-evident, scarcely perceived) are six men, three of whom he knows personally; he will soon address them without hesitation by name and surname: he has expected them to be there, since their presence is the result of prolonged, meticulous maneuvering. He allows himself the luxury of ignoring them, of delaying the encounter with their impassive faces and cold eyes. Then — a long look at the other three.
None of them seems like a complete stranger to him. His eyes come to rest on the last man in the row, whose face is averted: a beard, a frayed toga — a strange bird among these patricians. Out of step with the others. But the Prefect has the feeling — for reasons he cannot immediately identify — that this person will play a crucial role in the proceedings. Quickly he searches his memory, scouring various strata of his official activities: a place, a time, an event? At this moment he knows that there is something more here than meets the eye — something that goes much deeper. His satisfaction at the arrest — finally! — of what he considers to be a subversive group, is no longer unclouded. There has been a subtle shift. This affair no longer holds the prospect of a careful savoring of victory, of pleasure at the demonstration of the power of authority. It has become hollow at the core.
He gestures toward his officials.
"Today, on the third day of Nones of July, in the fifth hour after sunset, I, Aulus Fronto, Commander of the third division of the praetorian guard, made, with my men, a raid on the dwelling of Marcus Anicius Rufus on Janiculus Hill. I found Marcus Anicius Rufus and his wife Sempronia in company with a few noblemen who upon request identified themselves to us: Marcellinus Maximus, Flaccus Vescularius, Gaius Agerius Flestus, Quintus Fulcinius Trio. They were being served by three slaves: Phoebus, Milo, Herman. Upon investigation, it developed that the rest of the staff had orders not to show themselves in that part of the villa after the third hour.
"When I entered the tablinum, the situation was as follows: the couches were pushed together so that they formed three sides of a square. Marcus Anicius Rufus, his wife Sempronia and their previously mentioned guests were lying with their backs to tables on which I saw the remains of a meal. In the space which had been formed were two persons, a man and a woman calling themselves Pylades and Urbanilla, mimes by profession, who were engaged — at the request of Marcus Anicius Rufus, according to their statements — in giving a performance of the love dance of the god Dionysus and his bride Ariadne, said performance being forbidden by decree of our august Emperor Honorius in the twelfth year of his reign.
"In the garden I discovered two more members of the artistic troupe: the weightlifter Balcho and Homullus, a dwarf, disguised as Priapus. A pagan altar was standing in readiness. Upon searching the house, I found, in one of the anterooms, some baskets of live cocks; there was also a case containing instruments and objects customarily used for sacrifice and the inspection of entrails. All three slaves had seen the baskets, but alleged that they did not know who put them there. The men who, on my orders, guarded the hilly terrain around the villa seized an individual hiding in the bushes: he calls himself Niliacus and has no fixed domicile.
"He denies having had any contact with Marcus Anicius Rufus and his household. When confronted with him, everyone present stated that they had never seen the man before; Marcus Anicius Rufus, however, said this only after long hesitation. The slave Milo, when we showed him the means of coercion last night in the prison, declared that the person named Niliacus had been in the villa once before, and that was on the day of the triumphant entry of our august Emperor Honorius, three weeks ago around the hour of sunset.
"Letters, books and other documents from the library of Marcus Anicius Rufus were confiscated by me and delivered under seal to the office of the Prefect."
With the exception of Marcus Anicius Rufus, all the prisoners have been taken back to the holding rooms. The interrogation can begin.
The Prefect does not speak immediately. Nor does he look at the accused, but contemplates his own right hand, spread flat against the arm of his chair. He raises one shoulder slightly; the folds of his mantle fall from his outstretched arm. His right foot, in its red shoe, is thrust far forward, reaching almost to the edge of the platform. Because of these arrests, he was awakened earlier than usual, before sunrise. He had been impatiently awaiting the news that Marcus Anicius Rufus and his friends had been brought to the prefecture for immediate trial, but even this welcome information could not erase the memory of his strange, early morning dream ...
He had found himself on a barren, desolate coast. A rocky precipice, without a trace of vegetation, descended perpendicularly to a narrow gravel beach. The sun did not shine, the sea was grey. The enclosed bay was shaped like a half-moon and deserted, despite signs of human presence: the rocks had been fashioned to resemble the façade of a temple; a row of pillars, cut out of the stone, supported a triangular frieze crowded with vague figures — perhaps nothing but rock formations. Wide steps, crumbling in many places, descended to the sea. Between the columns stood disfigured sculpture, the most striking a relief representing a right hand, raised in oath. While he stood there in his dream, he thought he heard someone call his name ...
As he dressed, he decided that it must have been his secretary's voice that he had heard.
"Marcus Anicius Rufus, you are accused of having organized a gathering in your house for the secret practice of magic, the intention being the destruction of our august Emperor and the ruination of the Empire. Do you admit these facts?"
"I invited a few friends to dinner and to an artistic performance. I don't see anything unusual about that — much less incriminating."
"This performance had the character of a pagan ritual. The dancers were at the point of committing the act of love in public."
"The company was portraying the myth of Bacchus and Ariadne. I had requested an artistic performance — not erotic scenes, which I would never have tolerated."
"The dwarf's attire left nothing to the imagination.
"I didn't see the dwarf in that costume. The artists got dressed while we were dining. All I knew was that they were going to perform a number from the classical mime-repertoire. At the moment when the centurion and his men burst into my house — a breach of domestic peace against which I wish to register a strong protest — it's true that the dancers were miming an embrace. But everyone present, and primarily the artists themselves, can testify that there was no question that it was simply a pretence."
"Actors are not heard as witnesses, you should know that. The Commandant, Aulus Fronto, has the right to enter any place where he suspects trouble. He and his men are unanimous in their declaration that the dancers' position could be open to only one interpretation."
"The entry of the praetorian guards caused some confusion. At the moment none of us was looking at the artists. In my opinion the impressions of the commander and his men are based on some sort of optical illusion ..."
"But you do admit that you ordered a performance of the love dance of the pagan gods Bacchus and Ariadne? That's enough ..."
"Once more, it should be obvious that I'm relying here on time-honored cultural traditions —"
"Those Roman citizens who are aware of their responsibilites know that nowadays they must indulge in other entertainments at home. The report says further that in one of your anterooms, my officers found baskets of live cocks, undoubtedly sacrificial animals ..."
"No orders were given for sacrifice in my house. I don't know who brought them in or who received them —"
"There were often sacrifices in your house. Fresh flowers were placed on your house altar and at the feet of idols."
"Animal sacrifice has never taken place under my roof and it never will take place there!"
"Ah, that's a clever play on words! In your garden — in the open air and thus, I grant you, not under your roof — was a small altar, the kind that can be set up and taken down quickly."
"I don't know anything about that. It was dark in the garden. I didn't think it was necessary to examine the actors' stage properties beforehand."
"In the jurisprudence of actions connected with magic, innumerable examples are cited of rituals identical to those which were apparently going to take place in your house last night: an erotic performance culminating in the sacrifice of cocks, including the so-called inspection of entrails. And all this in order to obtain an answer to questions about the duration of the Emperor's life and to exercise an influence on that duration — in short, a detestable preamble to high treason. It's an undisputed fact that the materials necessary for these kinds of practices have been found in your house, ready for use."
"Yes, well, despite all that, I suggest you need only question the artists — unofficially if necessary. Since they are outside society, not legally responsible citizens, they just might know more than you or I —"
"Your sarcasm is misplaced. I have informed myself to the last minute detail. For a number of understandable reasons, actors never carry with them instruments associated with such actions — they're intimidated by the law, and they're afraid of reprisals from those who make their living from sacrifice and divination."
"I can assure you that no one who was in my house last night considers himself qualified to perform those rituals that you're talking about."
"You haven't really explained the presence of the man called Niliacus."
"I repeat what I said earlier: his presence on my property last night was unknown to me. I don't know what he was doing there."
"May I help you remember? Was he perhaps waiting for some prearranged signal? You had met him before, you know."
"I refuse to discuss the allegations made by a slave frightened of torture."
"If you answer truthfully, you'll spare the slave real pain and save yourself the trouble of inventing explanations for what you won't be able to deny in the long run."
"Since you are determined to find me guilty, why don't you just tell me right now what it is you wish to hear?"
"Did you summon this man Niliacus — whose name, origin and circumstances are so strikingly nebulous — to sacrifice cocks and make certain prophecies during the gathering at your home?"
"No, I did nothing of the sort."
"Marcus Anicius Rufus, you — in unfortunate contrast to the rest of your respected family, past and present — are not a Christian. We know you to be a man who holds stubbornly to pagan practices, to an obsolete mode of life ... You refuse to admit that times have changed. We remember your words and actions at critical moments in the Senate. You've never been able to hide your displeasure with recent developments — worse, you have revealed a deep-rooted antipathy to the views of the exalted Emperor Honorius and his advisors. There are persistent rumors that you have publicly urged the restoration of ancient values. In addition, there is no doubt about the inclinations of your guests. Denial is pointless. I have reliable information. This wouldn't be the first time that a coup d'etat was prepared under the guise of a dinner among friends — with criminal sacrifice and prophesying camouflaged as the buffoonery of supposed artists."
"You have no proof of that."
"In my opinion, both the nature and the intention of the performance in your house are indisputable."
"Then I must demand legal assistance."
"Considering the incriminating character of the facts and the seriousness of the transgression, that's absolutely unnecessary."
"It's only your interpretation of the facts that makes them incriminating. You and your officers have blown this affair completely out of proportion. All that really happened is that I invited the mime Pylades — I enjoyed his performances in the past — to come and amuse my guests with one of the numbers that were popular in his heyday. Before dessert — following ancient custom — I had the statues of my ancestors and my household gods set upon a table and I poured wine to honor them. Now that's called idolatry, it's punishable, I know that. I'm ready to pay any penalty that you decide to impose. I swear on oath that this is all there is. Now let's have an end to this undignified spectacle."
"We're going around in circles, Marcus Anicius Rufus. You can't deny the presence in your house of compromising persons and objects and you have given me no satisfactory explanation for that. This is a serious matter. You're under suspicion of high treason."
"In other words, you want to ruin me and my friends. Now I understand why the commander of the guard thought he had the right to force his way into my house. That raid was premeditated."
"I'm only an instrument of justice. I feel personally concerned about what is happening to you and your friends today. It would grieve me to have to remove you from office, to see you deprived of power and wealth. Nevertheless, I feel no pity for you. Some must fall very low before they're able to find the truth. You have always closed your eyes and ears to the new; you have always been arrogantly opposed to the spirit of our times. You are literally outside our time, Marcus Anicius Rufus — that's proven by your desire to use incantation and bloody sacrifice to control the future, to meddle in things that belong only to God. I hope fervently that what happened today will bring you insight, help you to regain humility and show you the way to true salvation."
"All right, punish me then if you have to, but I beg you to leave my family and my friends alone."
"I can't leave anyone alone who was discovered on your premises last night. My heart is bleeding, but I must enforce the law."
"Enforce it then, but don't insult my intelligence with these elaborate speeches —"
"I wonder if you would be able to maintain this stoical attitude under all circumstances ...?"
"I've said what I had to say. Nothing in the world could make me say anything else. And I know my friends — it's the same for them."
"This man, this Niliacus ... clearly he doesn't belong to your distinguished circle of friends. Perhaps he will prove ... willing — or should I say, more sensitive to certain methods of persuasion ... if that should become necessary ... "
"He's a complete outsider."
"I can't accept that, as long as I don't know the reason for your involvement with him."
"It's a private matter of no importance."
"I have the impression that you have a strong reason to protect him."
"I came upon the man by accident in the street — he looked like someone I knew once. After I had invited him to visit my home, I discovered my mistake."
"And when was that?"
"My slave told you — on the day of the entry of the Emperor Honorius, three weeks ago."
"And who was it you thought he resembled?"
"That's certainly beside the point — it has nothing to do with the situation."
"Nevertheless, I find it extremely interesting."
"I'm not standing before a nosy old woman, am I — but before the first magistrate in the City —"
"Your insults can only make matters worse. Stop and think about your charming wife Sempronia whom I must still interrogate ... You still refuse to answer? Niliacus will certainly tell me everything soon."
"All I know is that you won't get to hear what you insist on hearing. Since I am not allowed to defend myself fairly and you've obviously made up your mind to destroy me, all discussion between us is meaningless. From this moment, I will not say another word to you."
The statements of the four others, the guests of Marcus Anicius Rufus, are identical. They come one after the other, to stand before the Prefect; all — depending on their temperaments and the extent of their self-command — grimly stiff or convincingly indifferent, unshaven, the traces of a sleepless night on their faces, but with their togas correctly draped over arm and shoulder. Just as their host had done, all four ask for lawyers. Four times the Prefect refuses, pointing out that as the representative of the highest authority in the City, he is fully qualified — yes, required — to pronounce judgment in cases like these, behind closed doors, without jury, without counsel, without defense, and within twenty-four hours.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Threshold of Fire by Hella S. Haasse, Anita Miller, Nini Blinstrub. Copyright © 1993 Anita Miller. Excerpted by permission of Chicago Review Press Incorporated.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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