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About The banner of the South. (Augusta, Ga.) 1868-1870 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 18, 1869)
i ——m— '.. VOL. IT. [For the Banner of the South.] My Rocking Chair. BY CARRIE. I like its gentle motion, This rocking to and fro, Fit emblem of our human life, Not knowing where to go ; And so to pass from calm to strife, Thus rocking to and fro. I like its gentle motion, This rocking to and fro; To gild with human happiness, Our pathway here below— Hope weaves her brightest visions, While rocking to and fro! 1 like this gentle motion, This rocking to and fro, Although from dreams of gladness I pass to scenes of wo ; For ever thus, in human life, We're rocking to and fro l I like its gentle motion, This rocking to and fro; God shield us from the storms of life, 0 guide our steps below ! And give us steadfast faith in Thee, While rocking to and fro. [Written for the Banner of the South.] IREIIUS—THE IARIARIAI. A T:ißc ofßoitic iij the Days of* fPits^Rsissias. BY RUTH FAIRFAX. CHAPTER I. Beautiful in its lonely grandeur rose the palace near the mountain pass, and -graceful were the forms of beauty that flitted around its walls; but, lovelier far, than all, Oh! Aruns, was thy fair daugh ter. Lovely were the flowers that bloom ed around the fairy fouutain; but Virgi lia was the queen of beauty. Yet, the chill wind will fade the delicate flowers, or the parching sun crumble them into dust; guard well, then, thy flower, oh ! Aruns, from the chill winds of poverty and the scorching sun of luxury. Far enough removed from the city to avoid its attendant noise and bustle, the stately palace of Aruns, a wealthy eiti zesl et Clusium, afforded a most delight ful retreat for his only child. A rare loveliness had been bestowed upon this favored child of fortune, and many were the suitors who knelt before her; yet, still, the siweet A irgilia turned away, and would even fly iu alarm from one of Tom, the impetuous Lucius, a young ooble of Clusium. Proud and haughty iu his spirit, Lucius swore by his gods not he turned from his purpose: and uiost dangerous is a man when he yields iinsefl a slave to his own evil passions. by, why does the fair Virgilia turn ! ( rom me ?” he asked of his friend Caius. -‘Ook at me; am 1 not fair and tall in mature ? Are not my eyes bright, my inuscles strong ? Is not my form per (ct . have 1 ever been defeated iu single combat ? Have not the gods showered youth, and beauty upon me ? )i then, does the fairest of the fair uespise me ?” \ cuus aloue knows,” answered Caius "Una slight grimace; “you forget, Lu (l!^’irgilia, also, possesses these ; 0 o )e hi abundance, and can more graceful form than thine at n] .‘ V , 'I* 11 '’ hy consulting her mirror. It u: ? , shat some more favored lover ' Oiy perfections from her eyes.” i • ;iere ’ s uo truth in thee Caius!” ex kndlmed Lucius, angrily; “full well thou ‘owest she lias no favored lover. Close w i iau * t searched with my eyes those wiF C ° me - iear ier ’ anc i’ by Eros! lam |U)g to swear she loves none of them !” , * '*}» let us not make many words rjeTn - G lllutt( : r ’ ? ’ answered Cains; “let v IQ h) a disagreement, 1 know not ;'v ° Ves »' n truth I care not if she < C .' ' ? r my heart bows not belore her!” thou lovest and art happy ; and, in the sunshine of that happiness, overlook thy friend’s distress,” said Lu cius sullenly. “Thou willfully misunderstand me Lu cius,” said Caius kindly; “I would do much for my friend, but thou dost not bear patience with me. I believe that A irgilia loves. We may not, yet, have seen her in company with the favored one, but—” “Whom does she love?” interrupted Lucius, impatiently; “thinkest thou of any one ?” “No, no, of no one,” replied Caius; “I have never yet seen her with the one she loves, yet, still, I say I doubt not there is a favored lover!” “I will watch, and if there is—let him beware !” cried Lucius. “Come, Caius, let us seek the house of Artins, or rather of Virgilia, for to tell the truth, though \ irgilia is most dear to me, yet the no ble Aruns is no favorite of mine, no. nor of any of us; be is too lenient with those low Plebians, and will soon fall into disgrace among the Patricians.” “You speak truly, Lucius; he would deny the young nobles their little plea sures, and speaks loud'y of the rights of Plebians!” Conversing thus, the young men left the house of Lucius. And why was the beautiful Virgilia so insensible to the attractions of Lucius? He was attractive, for, indeed, he spoke truth concerning himself, when he enu merated his own graces to Ca'us. Let us precede the young man to the home of Aruns. Not into the home, just yet, for see, there is Virgilia, wan dering along yonder mountain path, with only one attendant at her side, a young slave maiden, called Nyda. The sun is very low in the Heavens, and the cool breeze of evening’ steals over them. Folding the soft silkon veil around her, irgilia walks softly onward ; now a huge rock bars the way, only a little foot path winds around it. Will she venture there ? Unhesitatingly she treads the patli, and now she and her companion are hidden behind the huge boulder. A few steps onward and they reach the mouth of a little cave, a natural cleft in themoun tains,but so beautified by art as to seem the grotto of a fairy queen. Enter! Low couches are placed on two sides; on the third a small white marble altar has been erected; on it stands an image of the God of love, surrounded with freshly culled flowers of every hue and shape. W ith smiling lip, and glowing cheek, A irgilia adds her offering of sweet flowers to those already laid upon the altar, and then looks eagerly up the mountain path, as it awaiting someone. She is; and, behold, he comes! Bounding over rock and ravine, with hardy grace, the young warrior soon reaches her side. He is large and strong, with flowing flaxen hair, and ruddy complexion. His attire is a rude armor, which he wears as easy as if it were quilted silk. He, too, has come to sacrifice on the shrine of Love, for his hands arc full of flowers. Virgilia moves, smilingly, away, and the offering is made. Turning from the cold image of Love, to the living, breathing, reality before him, the warrior kneels belore Virgilia. And she ? Oh, we see by the very blush, the speaking eye, that Virgilia loves, and the loved one is before her! “Dearest Virgilia,” murmured the young man, gazing up into her face. The words were common enough, for the tale of love is as old as the world, and ever uses the self-same language, “Not at my feet, Brennus;” said Vir gilia, resting her hand on his head; “come sit here beside me, and tell me why thou did’st not come yesterday” As the moments sweep by, and they sit there conversing, we detect a differ ence in their speech, for he speaks her language with an accent on his tongue as if he were of a different race. “But my lather is kind, and is not proud,” said Virgilia, in answer to an ex- AUGUSTA, Gr.A_., SEPTEMBER 18, 1869. pressed fear of her lover, that her father might look with angiy eyes upon their love. “Yet, he is a wealthy Patrician, as thou callest it, and I—thou knowest not what I am, Virgilia.” “Oh, I am sure thou art good and brave, what more is required ?” asked the maid en fondly. “A noble name,” answered Brennus. “Tnou canst win one!” cried Virgilia. “But, listen to me, Virgilia, answered her lover; “I will tsll thee more of my self than thou hast yet heard. Thou art an Etruscan, I am—a Gaul! Our na tions are not friends.” “Oh ! but we are friends,” cried Vir gilia, clinging to his arm; “Etruscan, Gaul, or Roman, what is it to me ? If thou wert a Roman, then, indeed, my father might look angrily upon me, for he hates theseßomans, who have wrested so many of our cities from us. But I, who love you, care nothing for these things.” “But knowest thou what .we are called Virgib’a ?” “Barbarians!” murmured the girl. “Yes, Barbarians! And wouldst thou, Virgilia, the daughter of a haughty no ble, give thyself in marriage to a rude barbarian ? Wouldst thou cross those lofty mountains to seek a home with me ?” “I would, dear Brennus; thou dost wrong my faithful heart by the doubt. I know not how far away Jiy home is, 1 know not what thy statio 1 is tnere, but this I do know, Brennus, I know that I love thee, and am willing to share thy lot whatever it may be !” “My own Virgilia,” murmured the lover, clasping her to his bosom, “thou dost trust me, and never shall thou mourn that trust. My home is far, oh! far away from here ! Think not, dearest, that I seek my home every evening when I leave thee here; no, I have a little cot among the mountains, where I stay; it would take me many days to reach my home.” “Yes, I know thy home is far away; tell me, then, dear Brennn q how Twas you first found this spot.” “By chance, Virgilia,” r * died Bren nus. “Yet, no! the gods ynt me! I was hunting among the mountains till the evening came on, and, then, to my surprise, found that I had lost my way. My adventurous spirit led me on ; the gods whispered of a brillian future ; I found a ravine in the mountains; follow ed its many windings, and, when my heart began to fail, chanced upon this spot. ’Twas only a little cleft in the moun tain then, yet, still, it seemed as if the hand of man had been here, for the en trance was closed with yonder flat rock. I cast it aside, and, while sitting in the shadow, heard sweet voices. Thou knowest the rest; thou wert wandering in the mountain path wi’h thy maiden. I saw and loved thee! And thou! hast thou not told me that I am dear to thee ?” “Oh! I have, and thou art- But, tell me, Brennus, do not thy friends long La thee ? Do they not fear hat some ill hath befallen thee ?” “Doubtless they do.” answered Bren nus ; “and I will return to them some day, when I can make up my mind to leave thy dear side.” :‘Ah! but I must leave thee, Brennus; for, see, the hour grows late, the shadows of evening already darken the path; l have already stayed too long! Come, Nyda, let us hasten !” “May the gods shelter thee!” exclaim ed Brennus, as they hastily left the grotto; then, lifting his spear from the ground, he, also, left the cave, ascend ing the almost imperceptible path that wound along the mountain side With rapid steps Virgilia and Nyda trod the path that led to their home, and were almost breathless when they en tered the large entrance hall. There, reclining at his ease upon the silken cushion, was Lucius, awaiting the ap pearance of \ irgilia. Near him stood his friend Caius, who looked a little ap prehensively at the lowering brow of Aruns. Lucius sprang to his feet, and catching the hand of Virgilia, in softly spoken words besought her to remove her veil. “The veil is not out of place, most no ble Lucius,” replied Virgilia; “I have been walking.” Aye, but thou hast now entered the house, and there is no reason why thou shouldst now conceal thy face!” said Lu cius, seizing the veil, and trying to re move it with gentle hand. “My will is sufficient reason,” answer ed Virgilia, holding its folds closely against her face. “Assuredly,” answered. Lucius, with drawing his Hand. At this moment a wide door was thrown open, and a slave summoned them to partake of the evening meal. Lucius had eaten in the house of Aruns many times, and well knew the delicate wines and costly luxuries tiiat would be set be fore him. Lucius was a devoted slave to wine, and even now hesitated not to turn from the lovely Virgilia to follow Aruns to the supper room. This was the largest and most elegant room in the house. The floor was paved with blocks of marble, and rare mosaic, the ceiling painted with glowing colors, and upon one of the walls hung a large mirror of polished steel. A long table stood in the centre of the room, with two couches on either side. Lucius immedi ately threw himself upon one of these, with his friend at his left hand. A youg slave advanced with a silver basin, into which Lucius dipped his fingers, and then turned his whole attention to the table. Soft music filled the air while, they ate, yet no softness entered the heart of Lucius. While partaking of the bread of Aruns, he was plotting against his happiness. CHAPTER 11. T he bright sky bore in its limpid blue the still brighter sun. The dew was scarcely dried upon the flowers, yet Virgilia was already abroad. To-day she is to see Brennus, for he has sent a special message to her. Well may you think that her steps were not slow, for the birds were scarcely swifter than she. Early as she was Brennus was there be fore her, and clasped her in his arms as she entered the cave. “Oh! dearest Virgilia, I must leave thee! Too long hat’e I lingered here, and now l must go. Yet I will return, trust me, I will return!” “I will not try to keep thee here,” said Virgilia, tears sparkling in her eyes; “yet, 1 will live upon thy promise to re turn. Thou wilt come back, Brennus, wilt thou not ?” “Shall I swear it, Virgilia ?” “No! oh no! I know thou wilt return; I did but ask to hear once more the sweet assurance. Art thou going now ? Will I not see thee again ?” “Once more, dearest,” answered Bren nus; “meet me here to-morrow morning ; after I have seen thee I will go hence, for a time only; when I come back again I will ask thy father for thee, and thou shalt go home with Brennus the Barba rian “Do not call thyself such names, Brenuus, thou art no barbarian !” said Virgilia, reproachfully. “Deceive not thyself, dearest,” replied Brennus; “my countrymen are indeed rude, and if my manner seems soft to thee, ’tis only because I cannot be rude in thy dear presence. I am a warrior, Virgilia, and my hand is more used to grasp the spear than flowers.” “And, yet, thou dost hold the flowers tenderly, Brennus,” said Virgilia, smiling, “as if thy hands were used to themHhou dost not cast them aside, as Lucius loth.” “Who is Lucius ?” asked Brennus, eagerly. ~>f‘A young Noble of Clasium whose father is a Roman. He would have mo for a wife, Brennus, if I would listen to his words.” “And thy father, Virgilia ; how favors he the young noble’s suit ?” “Have I not told thee that my father favors not the Romans ?” “Aye, I had forgotten that; but, tell me, have you nothing to fear from this noble ? Is be wealthy ? Is he power ful ?” “Oh, yes, both wealthy and powerful. His father, at Romo, is the most power ful of the haughty Patricians, who tram ple on the rights of the poor. My father likes not this young Lucius, for Aruns is a just man, and would give to all their due. Though a noble my father has but few friends among the Patricians, because he will not trample on his de pendants as they do.” “What dost thou tell me, Virgilia?” cried Brennus, in great alarm, “thy lather is not liked, is looked upon with suspicion, and this proud and cruel no ble desires thee fir a wife! Thou dost alarm me dearest! Oh! for my sake keep c lose to thy father’s side, lest this Lucius should attempt to carry thee oft’. What shall Ido ? Would it not be best for me too see thy father now, and carry thee with me ? Yet, no! The thought is that of a fool! He would not consent, for he knows not but that Brennus may be the vilest of the vile,” “I, also, sometimes tremble,” said Vir gilia ; “but I will keep within the house, lor only 7 last night, after he had broken bread in my fathers house, he urged me, with threats, to promise myself tj him. He spoke, then, of his suspicions; he told me that I loved another. I did not deny it, Brennus, for I knew he could not harm thee, and I hoped he would then leave me.” “And did he so ?” asked Brennus, “No ; he became angry, and swore by the gods that no other should have me. Oh! he was very angry, Brennus, and I trembled before his rage.” “Tr emble no longer, sweet one, I will think over this until to-morrow morn. Fear not; and now, farewell.” “I will not fear ; but didst thou say this farewell was for the last ?” adsed Virgila. “For the last time! The gods forbid! Nay, I said not so, sweet flower. 1 will return .” “Ah! ’twas thus I meant it,” said Virgilia, smiling faintly; “and now—” she bent her head on his shoulder, and her farewell was lost in the heavy sigh that broke from her heart. “To-morrow,” whispered Brennus, and placing his love in the arms of Nyda, he ascended the mountain path with fleet steps. “The flowers are fading on the altar,” said Nyda, striving to attract her mis tress’ attention. “Aye, eveu as my hopes are !” replied Virgilia, with a heavy sigh. “Be not so sad,” said Nyda, kneeling beside her fair owner; “remember the noble Brennus hath promised to see thee again, to-morrow. Look ! The place is in disorder; let us bring fresh flowers and sweet perfumes, that, when my lord returns, he may find all to iiis pleasure.” “Brennus is no Noble, good Nyda; yet, thou sayest well. We will trim our altar and scatter the perfumes. Your basket is without, Nyda, bring it in.” “I would give my life a sacrifice to the gods but that Breurius is a noble in his own country!” said Nyda, confidently, as she brought in the basket of flowers. “My poor girl, I fear thy sacrifice* would have to be made,” said Virgilia. “I do not think that Brennus hath even wealth in his own country. Didst thou not near him say he was only a poor bar barian ?” '-Aye, I heard the words, and mark ed the proud look on his brow while he spoke them. He is so grand and beauti ful he must be a favorite of the gods ’ ’ “Please thyself with bright dreams, ‘ Nyda, but f,hey are only dream-;, as thou ISTo. AT.
