Roma.The novel of ancient Rome - Saylor Steven - Страница 57
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While the others had watched the triumph, one of their number, as always, had been left to tend to the sacred hearthfire within the round temple. Now her five sister virgins rejoined her for the recitation of evening prayers, led by the eldest of them, Postumia, the Virgo Maxima. The keeping of the sacred hearthfire was the primary obligation of their order. Should the fire ever go out, catastrophe and misfortune for Roma would surely follow.
The keeping of their vows of chastity was an equally important obligation. Should a Vestal ever break that vow, she might conceal the crime from other mortals but never from the goddess. Vesta would know, and in consequence the hearthfire would sputter and dwindle. Only a pure virgin could maintain a steady flame in Vesta’s hearth.
The Vestals linked hands and stood in a circle around the flame. While the others swayed gently and hummed in harmony, the Virgo Maxima intoned the evening prayer. “Goddess Vesta, hear us. We have kept your flame for another day, and now another night descends, its darkness illuminated, as always, by your undying light. You warm us. You light our way. The same unwavering fire that comforted the baby Romulus at his birth comforts us here in your temple.”
Postumia was the eldest, but her short gray hair still had strands of black in it, and her voice was strong, without a quaver. She hummed and swayed with the other virgins for a moment, gazing at the flame, then recommenced the prayer. “For thirty years, each of us vows to serve you, goddess Vesta. We come to you before the age of ten; for ten years we learn; for ten years we perform the public rites; for ten years we teach the newcomers. Then we are free to go-or stay.
“Bless me, goddess Vesta! My thirty years passed years ago, but I chose to remain in your service. Permit me to stay, goddess, as long as I have eyes to witness the holy flame and strength to tend it, as long as I have words and wisdom sufficient to teach the younger virgins.
“Bless us all, goddess Vesta, but especially open your embrace to the youngest of us, Pinaria. Seven years she has been among us. Now that Foslia has entered her tenth year, Pinaria is the only novice. She still has much to learn. Give her special guidance, goddess Vesta.”
Pinaria, who had entered a kind of trance while humming and watching the flame, gave a tiny start at the mention of her name. It was not often that the Virgo Maxima mentioned the Vestals by name in her prayers. Why was she doing so now, and why for Pinaria? What she said next unsettled Pinaria even more.
“We pray, goddess, that you will remember all the Vestals who have come before us, going back to the days of King Romulus, who named the first four Vestals in Roma, and King Tarquinius the Elder, who raised our number to six, and who, in his wisdom, imposed a punishment far more terrible than simple death for any Vestal who should break her vows-the punishment that remains in force to this day.”
Pinaria drew a sharp breath, as did all the Vestals, their serene thoughts suddenly invaded by images of that most dreadful of all deaths. The humming and swaying stopped. The little temple became utterly silent except for the crackling of the hearthfire. Pinaria’s heart was beating so hard that she thought the others must be able to hear it. Why had the Virgo Maxima mentioned her in the prayer, and in the very next breath spoken of the terrible punishment for those who strayed?
“Give all of us strength, goddess Vesta,” whispered Postumia. “The way of the Vestal is not always easy, and harder for some than for others. Only the presence of your hearthfire within our hearts can keep us pure.”
The prayer ended. The Vestals released each other’s hands. Beyond the open doorway of the temple, twilight had turned to darkness.
“You may each ignite a taper from the sacred flame, to light your way safely back to the House of the Vestals. It’s Pinaria’s turn to tend the flame for the next four hours. Since she’s a novice, I’ll stay with her for a while.”
“But Virgo Maxima, I’ve tended the flame plenty of times before, all by myself. I know how to-” Pinaria saw Postumia’s withering gaze, and lowered her eyes. “Of course, Virgo Maxima. I’m honored that you’ll stay with me.”
The others filed out, carrying their tapers. Foslia, the last to leave, glanced back at Pinaria with a guilty look on her face before she shut the door behind her.
For a long time, Postumia stared at the flame and said nothing. At last she took a deep breath. “You may find this hard to imagine, Pinaria, but once upon a time, I was your age. I was not as beautiful as you-oh, no, not nearly as beautiful! For better or worse, Pinaria, with your auburn hair and your bright green eyes, you are an exceptionally lovely girl. But I was young, and passably pretty, and very, very vain, as only a young girl can be. I took my vow of chastity very seriously, but nonetheless, I saw no harm in adorning myself. I wore bracelets made of silver, and sometimes a necklace of carnelian that had belonged to my grandmother; I told people that I thought the red stone went very well with the red and white fillet we wear around our heads, but in fact, I thought it set off the pink glow of my cheeks. I anointed my hands and face with a scented oil that came all the way from Egypt-or so claimed the merchant who came once a month to the House of the Vestals to offer us such things.”
“The Virgo Maxima allowed this?” said Pinaria. Postumia never permitted any of the Vestals to wear jewelry or to use any sort of perfume or unguent, and while men were allowed to enter the House of the Vestals during daylight hours-never after dark-they could do so only if they had official or family business with one of the virgins. A seller of scented oils would never be permitted inside!
“The Virgo Maxima in those days was very permissive. She doted on the younger Vestals. She doted particularly on me; I was her favorite. She encouraged me. ‘How pretty that necklace looks on you, Postumia,’ she would say, or, ‘My, what lovely skin you have, so flawless and smooth!’ I can’t blame her for my vanity, but she certainly did nothing to discourage it. Nor did she discourage my flirtatious nature. Vanity leads to flirtation, you see. What good is being pretty if no one notices? And how can a girl know that she’s noticed unless she looks others in the eye? First, she accepts their admiring gazes, and after that, she accepts their spoken compliments, and after that…” Postumia shook her head. “Such behavior is dangerous for a Vestal. Very dangerous! And it all begins with the eyes. A man gazes at us, and we accept his gaze with pleasure, and that pleasure, which seems so innocent, leads us to desire other pleasures.”
Pinaria frowned. “Virgo Maxima, I don’t understand why you’re telling me this. I never wear jewelry; you don’t allow it, and even if you did, I have no desire-”
“Camillus looked at you today.”
Pinaria blinked. “Perhaps.”
“He looked at you with pleasure.”
Pinaria shrugged. “Did he? I couldn’t say whether-”
“And it gave you pleasure, did it not? That such a great man, the hero of the hour, so strong and handsome, should desire to look at you.”
Pinaria’s face grew hot. “I did nothing wrong, Virgo Maxima.”
“You returned his gaze.”
“Perhaps, but only for an instant!” Pinaria furrowed her brow. For a brief, irreverent moment, she imagined that the Virgo Maxima was jealous of the look Camillus had given her. “Virgo Maxima, surely Camillus is a pious man. No Roman is more respectful of the gods, or more beloved by them. Before the final siege of Veii, he pledged to build a grand new temple for Juno Regina, and in return, the goddess allowed him to capture the city. As well, he pledged a tenth portion of all the booty to the god Apollo-”
“I don’t question the piety of Camillus. But a pious man is a man, nonetheless. Pinaria, Pinaria! I don’t mean that Camillus himself poses a threat to you-unless you were to lead him on. The threat comes from within yourself.”
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