A Solemn Vow
As soon as the women disappeared upstairs again I turned to the pot of wine and drained every last drop of it. I was still sitting at the bar grinning to myself like an idiot when the innkeeper's wife reappeared, came over to me and laid her arm across my shoulders.
"It was a very hard birth, sir. Your girl was too small for such a big baby. She's badly torn, down there, you understand? The midwife is trying to staunch the bleeding right now, but you'll have to be very gentle with her for a long time to come, several months at least. If you simply must have your fun, sir, you come to me. I know all the best girls who'd be happy to oblige a nice young man like you, sir."
"Thanks," I said, "I understand, or at least, I think I understand, but I don't think I'll need anyone else. We're one flesh, you know." Then, before she could ask any more questions I stood up. "When can I see her?"
"I'll go and find out for you now, sir."
It seemed like hours later that I was finally admitted to our room where Cartimandua, pale but smiling, lay on the bed, our son cradled against her arm. She looked up at me and stretched out her free arm and I came and sat on the bed.
"This is your son, lord?"
I patted her hand. "Yes, Cartimandua. He is my son."
Cartimandua began to cry. "Thank you, lord. Thank you."
I slept on the floor, wrapped in my cloak, that night, and only woke once when the baby cried for hunger. I sat up and in the moonlight coming through the open window watched as Cartimandua picked up my son and fed and cleaned him.
"How soon will you be able to travel?" I asked in the morning.
"A couple of days, please, lord," Cartimandua smiled at me. "We must hurry?"
"Well," I hesitated and then confessed. "I am rather short of money. I've got enough for our ship fare back to Ravenna and I can get more once we're settled down at Lucius' place again, but the sooner we can get going the better."
Cartimandua bit her lip. "Is it because of me, lord?"
I shrugged. "It can't be helped. Your health was important - and my son's."
Cartimandua flushed prettily. "Am I important, lord?"
I sat down beside her and hugged her and the baby. "Very important." I tickled the sleeping infant under his chin. "More than ever now."
"I know you like283 me, lord. Do you love284 me?"
I considered the question. Certainly I felt a deep tenderness towards this slave girl, such as I had never felt for any other woman with whom I had slept. I wouldn't exchange Cartimandua for anyone, not even for the beautiful Charite, not even for the rich women Trophonios had promised me. I took a deep breath. "Yes, Cartimandua, I think I do."
There was a tender silence in the room for the next few minutes and then Cartimandua pushed me away gently.
"Lord, I will pray to the Christos about money. He will provide."
"We'll be all right," I said. "You just hurry up and get strong again."
The rest of the day passed in a happy haze. Cartimandua was too weak to get out of bed and I insisted on doing everything for her, much to the amusement of the innkeeper's wife. Towards evening Cartimandua complained of feeling hot and I dragged the bed over right beneath the window to take advantage of the evening breeze from the harbour. It didn't help much and she was soon tossing fretfully on the bed.
"My head hurts," she moaned when I asked her if she was all right and I hurried to bring a wet cloth to lay on her forehead.
"What's that for?" the innkeeper's wife asked sharply when I went down to fetch more water.
"For my girl," I replied. "She isn't feeling well."
The innkeeper's wife looked grim and insisted on accompanying me back to the bedroom. She laid her hand on Cartimandua's forehead and without consulting me sent for the midwife. The old crone also felt Cartimandua's forehead and then clicked her tongue.
"Oh, young sir, I was afraid of this. I was afraid of this, I was. She wouldn't take any of the charms and amulets I brought, young sir, not one of them. It doesn't do to anger the Immortals, young sir, nor the powers below neither."
"Why?" I demanded. "She's just got a temperature, a fever brought on by her exertions. It isn't serious, is it?"
"It could be milk fever," the midwife suggested in a hesitant voice. The two women glanced at each other and my heart dropped. The look in their eyes was all I needed to know that the peril was deadly.
"Is there a good doctor in town?" I asked, my voice low.
"I'll go and get him for you, young sir," the midwife offered with suspicious haste. "He'll tell you, young sir."
She hurried out of the room and the innkeeper's wife shook her head. She plucked at my sleeve and drew me out to the head of the stairs.
"You're just wasting your money, sir. It's the childbirth fever your girl has got and when it comes as quickly as this I've never known one to recover. I'm sorry, sir."
It was late at night when the doctor came, attended by a couple of slaves. One carried a small box containing the doctor's instruments while the other held a larger one filled with drugs and medicines. He sat down by Cartimandua and looked at her tongue, then felt her pulse for a long time, his face growing longer and longer as he did so. Finally he rested his hand briefly on her burning forehead and then stood up and motioned to me to step aside with him.
"She has given birth recently, hasn't she?"
"Two days ago," I nodded.
"Then I'm sorry, young man. It's puerperal fever285 , very common with women after childbirth. A few get better but I mustn't raise your hopes. When the pulse is like hers I've never known one to recover. Your wife, is she?"
"No." I shook my head. "She's my slavegirl."
"Ah, then I'm sorry for your loss. Strasimus down at the circus always has a lot of animals to feed. You might get a couple of drachma from him for the body." He glanced back at the bed. "Actually, you'd be doing her a kindness if you let him take her now. He'll knock her on the head without delay and cut short her sufferings."
The doctor casually slung his cloak over his shoulder and turned towards the door. "Oh, and by the way, what about the child? Are you going to keep it?"
I found my voice. "Of course!"
"I'll send you a wet nurse, then." He looked round the room, noting its bareness. "I'll find one not too expensive."
I offered him a fee but he waved it away.
"No cure, no charge, young man. May the gods be with you."
I followed him out of the room and bade him farewell at the door. When I came back to the room Cartimandua was awake, her eyes wide and staring in her white face. She watched me in silence as I crossed the room and sat down beside the bed. I reached out and took her hot hand.
"Lord," she whispered, "I will die?"
I tried to say something but the words wouldn't come. I squeezed her hand and nodded.
"And then, lord - and then, Strasimus?"
"You heard?" I exclaimed in horror.
Cartimandua nodded and a tear trickled from her eye and fell onto the pillow. I let go of her hand and stood up, then raised my right hand.
"Cartimandua, I swear by all the gods - and I'm near enough to the sea to make this binding286 - that I will give you a proper burial according to the rites of your religion."
Cartimandua smiled weakly and her lips formed the word "Thank you," but I wasn't finished.
"I have already acknowledged your son as mine. I further swear that I will bring him up as a free man and that he, and no one else, shall be my heir after me."
I sat down again and Cartimandua rolled towards me, her arms outstretched. I leaned forward and held her in a long embrace, but when I let her go she fell back and lay still, her eyes closed. I hurried to replace the wet cloth on her forehead and then fanned her for hour after hour with my cloak. I prayed in rhythm with my arms, calling on all the Immortals and all the Infernal Powers to spare my love.
"Lord Healer287," I begged over and over again, "grant this prayer. I have done you no wrong. Be our rescuer from death and keep blood-stained Hades at bay."
About midnight the baby cried and Cartimandua roused and groped for it. She was too weak to sit up but she rolled on her side and I held the baby to her breasts and he sucked greedily until he was satisfied. I cleaned him and laid him back beside her, but there was no further response from her.
As morning approached Cartimandua's breathing grew harsh and ragged. I had never seen a death before but from things I had heard people say I guessed that the end was not far off. In despair I dropped the cloak and sat down by the bed again.
"Cartimandua," I cried, "My love. Can you hear me?"
She lay unmoving, without even a flicker of her eyelids to show that she was aware of my voice. My eyes filled with tears that ran down my cheeks and dripped into my lap. I fell to my knees and reached out to clasp her unmoving body to me.
"Darling, don't leave me. What will I do when you are gone? Don't leave me, please."
I raised my head and looked wildly around the room. I had already beseeched Asklepios, Eileithuia288 , Zeus, Artemis, Aphrodite and all the other gods and goddesses I could think of, but there had been no answer. To what other god or goddess could I pray in this place? What genius or spirit presided here? Cartimandua let out a long, gusty sigh and then stopped breathing for what seemed like ages while my heart stood still, and then slowly breathed in again.
"Gods!" I screamed silently, my fists clenched, my stomach churning with desperation, "Goddesses! Help me!"
The vision Trophonios had given me flashed across my mind, and with it the thought that the Hero was taking Cartimandua from me so that I could follow the destiny he had mapped out for me.
"No!" I rebelled silently. "I don't want anyone else. I want Cartimandua."
And then, for a brief moment, I seemed to be back in the forum at Rome, facing a stranger who plucked at my sleeve and asked if I was from Greece. The Christos! I thought. He was a god who answered prayers! I let go of Cartimandua and sprang to my feet. I glanced out the window to orientate myself and then turned to face the east and Jerusalem, the city where the God of the Jews was supposed to live. I raised my hands like a supplicant, just as I had seen Paul do289.
"God of the Jews, I pray to You. If You will hear my prayer and restore Cartimandua, my slave, to health, then I vow that I will worship only You and Your Christos for the rest of my life."
I paused, feeling that there was something more I needed to say, and then I remembered.
"I ask this in the name of Your Christos, the Jesus of Nazareth about Whom Paul preaches."
Once again Cartimandua sighed and lay still, her chest unmoving, but this time my heart didn't stop. There was a strange peace in my mind, a peace that I had never experienced before. I picked up my cloak and fanned her again and after a long pause she took a deep breath.
Hours passed. Vaguely I heard the sounds of bustle and rush in the kitchen below and knew that morning had come. My stomach rumbled and my eyes burned with weariness but I ignored both and kept on fanning until the baby began to cry. This time, however, there was no response from Cartimandua. Eventually I picked my son up and walked up and down the room, holding him over my shoulder, but he only cried the harder. Finally, in desperation, I went down to the kitchen and got some wine which I dripped into his tiny mouth with my finger. His lips smacked greedily at the drops that fell onto his tongue and the servant girls giggled at him and pressed a small pot of warmed milk into my hands. I fed him some of the milk in the same way and at last he belched and smiled and fell asleep again.
I thanked the girls, put the baby over my shoulder and climbed the stairs back to our room. At the door I hesitated, listening for Cartimandua's laboured breathing and failing to hear it. With a wordless cry I burst through the curtain and dashed over to the bed. Cartimandua lay there, her breathing soft and even, her clothes soaked with sweat. The fever had broken!
"May the gods be . . ." I stopped abruptly. "No, may the Christos of Paul be praised! Thank you, God of the Jews. I will keep my vow, only restore Cartimandua to full health."
I put the baby down and covered him, then set to work to sponge Cartimandua's body and change the bed linen. Twice, as I rolled her from one side of the bed to the other, she groaned, but apart from that she slept undisturbed. I lay down on the floor, my hand reaching up to touch hers, and fell asleep.
The room was hot with the still heat of noon when I awoke. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and looked at the bed. Cartimandua, still pale and dishevelled, was sitting up, my son clasped to her breast. She smiled at me.
"Awake, lord? I thought you were going to sleep all day."
I stood up slowly, hardly daring to believe my eyes.
"Cartimandua! You're alive! Praise to the Christos!"
"Yes, lord. Praise to the Christos. Oh, lord!"
"What?" I sat eagerly down beside her.
She switched the baby from one breast to the other. "Lord, I wish that you served the Christos."
"Cartimandua, my love, I do. Last night I vowed that if you got better I would worship the Christos only for the rest of my life."
Cartimandua reached out with her free hand, put it round my neck and pulled my head down to rest on her shoulder.
"Lord, now I am happy."
I pulled myself free.
"But I'm not, Cartimandua."
"No, lord?"
"No. From now on you must call me Arxes, not lord. Then I will be happy."
"But - but -" her eyes searched my face. "I am your slave, lord."
"Not any more. I don't care what my father says. From today you are a free woman and I declare that you are my wife for the procreation of legitimate children290. When you are well enough I'll give you your beating and as soon as I can afford it, I'll pay your tax291 and make out the proper papers for you."
283 Eros, sexual love, which I have elsewhere called Lust. Return
284 Agape, which I have elsewhere translated as Compassion. Return
285 Puerperal fever was one of the most common causes of post-natal death among mothers until Dr Ignác Semmelweiss of Budapest discovered it could be prevented by one simple measure. He insisted that doctors, nurses and midwives wash their hands between patients, a move which, although successful, aroused such resentment among the offended medical staff that Dr Semmelweiss was hounded from his job. The good doctor's biography is well worth reading. Return
286 The most solemn oath that could be taken was to stand on the seashore with one foot on land and one in the water. According to Pagans and Christians (p. 218) Porphyry, in his book on oracles, quotes the reply given by Apollo of Didyma to Rufinus, the wealthy Roman consul at Pergamum, who wanted to know what oath his sea-captain was least likely to break. Apollo instructed him to have the captain stand with one foot in the sea and one on dry land, with sand in one hand and sea water in the other. "This," Apollo declared, "is an oath which the exalted dwellers in heaven do not themselves ever dare to dishonour." The parallels with Revelation 10 are obvious. Return
287 One of the attributes of Apollo. The prayer is taken almost verbatim from Euripides play Alcestis. (p. 15) Return
288 Eileithuia was the goddess of birth, usually represented by a wooden statue showing a young girl with a cylindrical hat. According to legend she came from the far north to help the goddess Leto give birth. Return
289 Early Christians prayed with their hands raised, though not stretched high over their heads like modern Charismatics. The Christian frescoes from Lullingstone in Kent, as well as a tombstone from Pula and other illustrations from various places depict the praying individual standing with his arms by his side, bent upwards from the elbow. Return
290 Just as in our tradition the formal contract of marriage centres around the words "I do", so this was the correct form of words for a Greek marriage. Menander, in The Girl from Samos, has Nikeratos give away his daughter with the words, "In the face of witnesses, I give you, Moschion, this woman to be your wife for the procreation of legitimate children. And as dowry I give her all my possessions when I die - which god forbid. May I live forever!" (p. 78)
Before a marriage could take place there were other formal words that had to be said. These are illustrated by Plautus' A Three-dollar Day (p. 188)
Philto: Once again, I ask you to give your sister to my son and may the gods prosper it. Now, what is your answer? Not made up your mind yet?
Lesbonicus: Oh, very well, if you insist. May the gods prosper it; I give my consent.
291 When slave owners manumitted or set free a slave, they were obliged to pay a tax to the government. Livy, in his History of Rome XXVII.x says that in an emergency during the war with Hannibal "While the consuls were making all necessary preparations for the war, it was decided to draw out the reserve of gold, the produce of the 5% tax on manumitted slaves, which was kept in the more sacred treasury for use in extreme emergencies. Four thousand pounds' weight of gold was brought out."
In addition, there were certain legal ceremonies to be gone through. Plutarch, in his essay On God's Slowness to Punish, tells us that "In Rome the process of emancipating a slave involves striking him on the body with a light stalk." (p. 255) Return
