Serapis — Complete by Georg Ebers (books to read in your 20s .txt) 📖

Outside the door of the music-room she dried away her tears for her brothers, for her emotion seemed to her too sacred to be confessed to a creature who boldly defied the laws laid down by custom for the conduct of women. From Dada’s appearance she felt sure that all those lofty ideas, which she herself had been taught to call “moral dignity” and “a yearning for the highest things,” must be quite foreign to this girl with whom her cousin had condescended to intrigue. She felt herself immeasurably her superior; but it would be ungenerous to allow her to see this, and she spoke very kindly; but Dada answered timidly and formally.

“I am glad,” Gorgo began, “that accident brought you in our way;” and Dada replied hastily: “I owe it to your father’s kindness, and not to accident.”

“Yes, he is very kind,” said Gorgo, ignoring Dada’s indignant tone. “And the last few hours have brought him terrible sorrows. You have heard, no doubt, that he has lost his mother; you knew her—she had taken quite a fancy to you, I suppose you know.”

“Oh! forget it!” cried Dada.

“She was hard to win,” Gorgo went on, “but she liked you. Do you not believe me? You should have seen how carefully she chose the dress you have on at this minute, and matched the ornaments to wear with it.”

“Pray, pray say no more about it,” Dada begged. “She is dead, and I have forgiven her—but she thought badly, very badly of me.”

“It is very bad of you to speak so,” interrupted Gorgo, making no attempt to conceal her annoyance at the girl’s reply. “She—who is dead—deserves more gratitude for her liberality and kindness!”

Dada shook her head.

“No,” she said firmly. “I am grateful, even for the smallest kindness; I have not often met with disinterested generosity. But she had an end in view—I must say it once for all. She wanted to make use of me to bring shame on Marcus and grief on his mother. You surely must know it; for why should you have thought me too vile to sing with you if you did not believe that I was a good-for-nothing hussy, and quite ready to do your dead grandmother’s bidding? Everybody, of course, looked down upon us all and thought we must be wicked because we were singers; but you knew better; you made a distinction; for you invited Agne to come to your house and sing with you.—No, unless you wish to insult me, say no more about my owing the dead lady a debt of gratitude!”

Gorgo’s eyes fell; but presently she looked up again and said:

“You do not know what that poor soul had suffered. Mary, her son’s widow, had been very cruel to her, had done her injuries she could never forgive—so perhaps you are right in your notion; but all the same, my grandmother had a great liking for you—and after all her wish is fulfilled, for Marcus has found you and he loves you, too, if I am not mistaken!”

“If you are not mistaken!” retorted Dada. “The gods forefend!—Yes, we have found each other, we love each other. Why should I conceal it?”

“And Mary, his mother—what has she to say to it?” asked Gorgo.

“I do not know,” replied Dada abashed.

“But she is his mother, you know!” cried Gorgo severely. “And he will never—never—marry against her will. He depends on her for all that he has in the world.”

“Then let her keep it!” exclaimed Dada. “The smaller and humbler the home he gives me the better I shall like it. I want his love and nothing more. All—all he desires of me is right and good; he is not like other men; he does not care for nothing but my pretty face. I will do whatever he bids me in perfect confidence; and what he thinks about me you may judge for yourself, for he is going to put me in the care of his tutor Eusebius.”

“Then you have accepted his creed?” asked Gorgo. “Certainly I have,” said Dada.

“I am glad of that for his sake,” said the merchant’s daughter. “And if the Christians only did what their preachers enjoin on them one might be glad to become one. But they make a riot and destroy everything that is fine and beautiful. What have you to say to that—you, who were brought up by Karnis, a true votary of the Muses?”

“I?” said Dada. “There are bad men everywhere, and when they rise to destroy what is beautiful I am very sorry. But we can love it and cherish it all the same.”

“You are happy indeed if you can shut your eyes at the dictates of your heart!” retorted Gorgo, but she sighed. “Happy are they and much to be envied who can compel their judgment to silence when it is grief to hear its voice. I—I who have been taught to think, cannot abandon my judgment; it builds up a barrier between me and the happiness that beckons me. And yet, so long as truth remains the highest aim of man, I will bless the faculty of seeking it with all the powers of my mind. My betrothed husband, like yours, is a Christian; and I would I could accept his creed as unflinchingly as you; but it is not in my nature to leap into a pool when I know that it is full of currents and whirlpools.—However, the present question has to do with you and not with me. Marcus, no doubt, will be happy to have won you; but if he does not succeed in gaining his mother’s consent he will not continue happy you may rely upon it. I know these Christians! they cannot conceive of any possible joy in married life without their parents’ blessing, and if Marcus defies his mother he will torture his conscience and lead a death-in-life, as though he were under some heavy load of guilt.”

“For all that, and all that,” Dada insisted, “he can no more be happy without me than I can without him. I have never in my life paid court to any one, but I have always met with kindness. Why then should I not be able to win his mother’s heart? I will wager anything and everything that she will take kindly to me, for, after all, she must be glad when she sees her son happy. Eusebius will speak for us and she will give its her blessing! But if it is not to be, if I may never be his wife honestly and in the face of the world, still I will not give him up, nor he me. He may deal with me as he will—as if he were my god and I were his slave!”

“But, my poor child, do you know nothing of womanly honor and womanly dignity?” cried Gorgo clasping her hands. “You complain of the lot of a singing-girl, and the cruel prejudices of the world—and what are you saying? Let me have my way, you would say, or I scorn your morality?”

“Scorn!” exclaimed Dada firing up. “Do you say I scorn morality? No, indeed no. I am an insignificant little person; there is nothing proud or great about me, and as I know it full well I am quite humble; in all my life I never dared to think of scorn, even of a child. But here, in my heart, something was awoke to life—through Marcus, only through him—something that makes me strong; and when I see custom and tradition in league against me because I am a singer,