But why should this depend upon the finding of
Veranilda, my best Basil? Having found her, having made her your
own, will it be easier than now to take your chance of death or of
captivity? When was a Roman wont to let his country's good wait upon
his amorous desire?'
They were on the Sacred Way, between the Basilica of Constantine and
the Atrium of Vesta. Struck to the heart by his friend's words,
words such as Marcian had never yet addressed to him, Basil stood
mute and let his eyes wander: he gazed at the Forum, at the temples
beyond it, at the Capitol with its desecrated sanctuary of Jupiter
towering above. Here, where the citizens once thronged about their
business and their pleasure, only a few idlers were in view, a few
peasants with carts, and a drove of bullocks just come in from the
country.
'You would have me forget her?' he said at length, in a voice
distressfully subdued.
'I spoke only as I thought.'
'And your thought condemned me--despised me, Marcian?'
'Not so. Pitied you rather, as one whose noble nature has fallen
into trammels. Have you not long known, O Basil, how I think of the
thing called love?'
'Because you have never known it!' exclaimed Basil.
Pages:
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220