Roma.The novel of ancient Rome - Saylor Steven - Страница 58
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“But, Virgo Maxima-”
“Silence!” Postumia’s bosom rose and fell in a sudden access of emotion. She watched the flames until she grew calmer. “Listen to me, Pinaria. As I told you, when I was your age, I was very vain. I adorned myself. I accepted the gazes of men-and returned them. I laughed when they said amusing things. I tried to be witty in return, and when men laughed, I felt a flush of excitement. I did nothing wrong-certainly nothing that betrayed my vow to Vesta. But my behavior attracted attention.
“The year that I was elevated from novice to full-fledged priestess, a series of bad omens occurred. A goat was born with two heads. A summer hailstorm rained tiny frogs. Worst of all, one augury after another indicated misfortune on the battlefield. The people were alarmed. They wanted to know the cause. Had the military commanders failed to make proper sacrifices to the gods? Was the Pontifex Maximus at fault-had the highest authority of the state religion been derelict in his duties? Or had the priests who keep the Sibylline Books misread the prophecies and led the people astray? All these possibilities were investigated, yet no fault could be found with the performance of any of the sacred rites, and no impurity was detected in those charged with carrying out those rites. And then…the investigation turned to me.”
Again, Postumia fell silent for a long time, staring at the flame. “Do you know the penalty imposed on a Vestal who is found to have lost her virginity?”
Pinaria was barely able to speak about a whisper. “Of course I do, Virgo Maxima.”
“Then tell me.”
Pinaria swallowed hard. “If a Vestal is charged with breaking her vow of chastity, the Pontifex Maximus himself investigates the matter. A board of priests renders judgment. If they find her guilty…”
“Go on.”
“The priests strip her of her vestments. The man with whom she broke her vows is brought before her in chains, and beaten to death before her eyes. Then the priests turn their fury on the Vestal. They scourge her with whips until she can no longer stand. They dress her like a corpse, all in black, and tie her with leather straps to a funeral bier, so tightly that she can’t cry out. They place the bier upon a funeral wagon, draped in black, and the wagon is paraded through the city for all to see, just as if the Vestal were already dead and being taken to her funeral…”
“Go on.”
“They take her to a place where a crypt has been dug beneath the city wall. They remove her from the wagon, and lower her into the crypt. They seal the entrance and cover it with a mound of earth. No funeral rites are conducted for her. She is never spoken of again.” Pinaria’s mouth was so dry that she could hardly speak. “No man kills her. No man sees her die. What happens to her in the tomb is known only to Vesta.”
Postumia nodded gravely. “Who was the last Vestal to receive this punishment?”
Pinaria furrowed her brow.
“Come, come, Pinaria! Foslia would answer in a heartbeat.”
“I remember now. It was almost a hundred years ago-”
“It was exactly seventy-nine years ago,” said Postumia harshly, “in the days of my grandmother.”
“As you say, Virgo Maxima.”
“What were the circumstances? What was the Vestal’s name?”
“She was called Urbinia. The women of Roma had fallen prey to a pestilence, especially women who were pregnant; there was one miscarriage after another. The Pontifex Maximus suspected impurity. It was found that Urbinia had given herself not to one man, but two, and yet she still dared to tend the sacred flame. Urbinia was tried and found guilty. After she was punished, the pestilence ceased, and the women once again bore healthy babies.”
Postumia nodded. “Urbinia was the most recent Vestal to be found guilty of impurity and punished. But she was not the first. You come from a very old family, do you not, Pinaria?”
“Yes, Virgo Maxima.”
“A family older than the republic, older than the kings; a family that has given Roma many consuls and magistrates, many warriors and priests, and not a few Vestals. But even the most respectable families have stains on their history. It was King Tarquinius the Elder who initiated the method by which Vestals are punished. And what was the name of the very first Vestal to be punished according to that practice?”
“Her name…” Pinaria’s heart skipped a beat.
“Come, child! You know the answer.”
“Her name was the same as my own: Pinaria. An ancestress of mine was the first Vestal to be…”
“Buried alive!” whispered Postumia. She drew a deep breath. “Buried alive-that’s what they did to Pinaria, and to Urbinia. That’s what they wanted to do to me. Even now, I can’t speak of it with a steady voice.”
“But surely you were innocent.”
“Of course I was, you stupid girl! Had I been less than innocent, I wouldn’t be here today! In the end, thank the goddess, I was able to convince the Pontifex Maximus of that fact. But the investigation itself…the fear I felt…the humiliation…the terror…the nightmares I still experience, after all these years!” Postumia cleared her throat. “When I became Virgo Maxima, I promised myself that no Vestal in my charge would ever suffer such an ordeal. To keep your vow is not enough. Innocence is not enough! A Vestal must be above temptation, yes-but she must also be above suspicion. Do you understand, Pinaria?”
“Yes, Virgo Maxima. I understand.” Pinaria shivered and began to weep.
Postumia embraced her, holding her tightly and stroking her closely shorn hair. “There, there! I’ve frightened you, child. But I do it for your own good. I do it for the good of us all.”
Though the door was shut, a sudden draft passed through the chamber, as if the temple itself drew a breath. The sacred hearthfire leaped this way and that, wavered, and for an instant appeared to vanish altogether.
390 B.C.
“Of course, the ban on intermarriage between plebeians and patricians should never have been repealed,” said Postumia.
Foslia laughed out loud. “But Virgo Maxima, what can that possibly have to do with the so-called Veii Question?”
Postumia, who was about to take a bite from a stuffed grape leaf held delicately between her forefinger and thumb, put down the delicacy and cleared her throat. She was slightly flustered by Foslia’s disrespectful laughter. “All questions of right and wrong impinge on one another. In matters of religion-and there are no matters unrelated to religion-every subject is relevant to every other.”
Foslia was skeptical. “A ban on marriage between the classes-wasn’t that in force only briefly, because it was so unpopular? And it was all so very long ago. People my age are hardly aware that such a ban ever existed!”
The occasion was dinner in the House of the Vestals. The weather was mild. The priestesses dined in the garden under the open sky, reclining on couches. The couch of the Virgo Maxima was at the head of the group. Dining on a couch opposite the Virgo Maxima was the youngest-still Pinaria, for in the three years since the triumph of Camillus, no Vestal had retired or died, and so no new novices had been inducted.
Female servants moved silently among them, delivering fresh dishes and taking away empty ones. “The eyes and ears of the Pontifex Maximus,” Foslia called their servants. “They watch us like hawks,” she had once remarked to Pinaria. “They listen to every word we say. If ever a Vestal should stray, the Pontifex Maximus will know about it even before the goddess does, thanks to his vigilant spies!” Foslia said such things in jest, but Pinaria was not amused.
Nor was the Virgo Maxima amused by Foslia’s dismissal of her comment on marriage.
“May I remind you, Foslia, that a marriage between two patricians requires a religious rite, while any marriage involving a plebeian is purely a civil matter. In the time of the Decemvirs, this fact was one of the strongest arguments against intermarriage. In any mixed union, the patrician partner is deprived of religious ceremony-a state of affairs that must surely offend the gods. A patrician should marry only another patrician, and do so in accordance with the sacred rites. Yes, the ban was rescinded-but that doesn’t mean it won’t come back.”
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