My mistress was kept waiting for hours in the reception lobby of the Brazen I louse, a small, stuffy apartment, and questioned by a number of important and unimportant people, mostly eunuchs, each in turn trying to break her persistent silence. The Empress, she was continually assured, refused to see claimants unless they expressly stated their business in detail. My mistress answered that if the Empress knew that they were keeping away so important a petitioner, she would punish them for their interference. Surely they could judge from the seriousness of her person that she was not one to petition the Empress idly?
She was at length successful. They admitted her to Theodora's silk-hung audience chamber at the second audience, which began at two o'clock. She had with her, besides the basket, the children Photius and Martha; and they were cross and tearful because they had missed their dinner, having been kept standing about in the reception lobby since before eight o'clock. My mistress recognized one or two of the officials and Guards officers from her club-house days, but took care that no one should recognize her. The handsome gold cross on her breast and her widow's weeds were a sufficient disguise; and she had grown a good deal plumper since her acrobatic dancing days. She had been ten years away from this part of the world.
My mistress watched the preliminaries of the audience, which Theodora conducted at a different hour from Justinian's, so that the chief Officers of State should be free to assist her. A priest opened proceedings with a short prayer, and a few responses were sung, during which Theodora trimmed her nails with a tiny knife and looked contemptuous. Next, retired officials and women of note came up one by one to her throne very reverently, to kiss the hem of her robe or the instep of her feet. She greeted them coldly. Then the first petitioners were announced. Theodora listened to some attentively and to some impatiently with bent brows. Her decisions were short and pointed. 'A present of gold to this woman', 'This plea must be referred to His Clemency, the Emperor', 'Take the impudent fellow out and whip him.' Everyone seemed to stand in awe of Theodora.
Yet she had not changed at all, my mistress thought. At last Narses, the eunuch Chamberlain, announced her apologetically to Theodora: 'Antonina, widow of Such-and-Such, silk-merchant, late Treasurer of the Blue faction at Antioch: with a personal plea. Obstinately refuses to state her business; insists, however, that it is of importance to the State and to your Resplendency.'
My mistress advanced and made a deep obeisance.
Theodora listened quizzically, her head tilted a little in a familiar attitude. My mistress almost forgot herself, almost sprang forward to embrace her old friend; tears started to her eyes. She was very fond of Theodora, and felt a deep pride in her as she sat there on a golden throne with such grace and assurance.
Theodora addressed my mistress. 'That is a pretty little girl. Is she your own?'
'Yes, Resplendency.'
'Name?'
'Martha, Resplendency.' "Why Martha?'
'A Christian name, Majesty. The child is baptized.' 'But why not Mary? Or Elizabeth? Or Dorcas? Or Ann? Or Zoe?'
My mistress grew bolder: 'I named her Martha after the sister of that Lazarus who was raised from the dead. Martha, I am told, preferred the practical routine of household life to taking part in perhaps heretical religious discussion.'
The priests were scandalized, but Theodora laughed softly and said to the Major-Domo: 'Clear the room, and be quick about it. I wish to have private conversation with this intelligent and pious widow.'
Before the last of the petitioners and Guards were well out of the room the Empress had descended from the throne, run towards Antonina, and was embracing her tenderly, weeping for pleasure. 'O my Antonina, I thought you were dead. They told me that you were killed in the earthquake at Antioch! I did not recognize you until you spoke. Why did you not seek me out before? You were the best friend I ever had, dearest Antonina.'
My mistress asked for forgiveness, explaining that she had not been sure whether Theodora wished to see old associates, now that her position had become so exalted.
'That was unjust of you,' Theodora said, embracing her again. She fingered the cross at my mistress's breast.' So you have turned Christian too? I should never have thought it of you — you pagan, you witch!'
My mistress's confidence had returned completely. 'I learned it from Theodora,' she joked.
Theodora slapped her lightly, and assumed a mock-scowl. My mistress, with no least feeling of anxiety or embarrassment left now, remarked that the children had had nothing to cat since breakfast. Theodora summoned the Major-Domo again and told him to punish the person responsible for starving her guests. She also said that the audience would not be resumed that afternoon, and that the remaining petitioners must return on the next day. Then she took my mistress and her children to her private room, off the banqueting hall, where a wonderful meal was served from gold plate encrusted with amethysts. There followed easy, placid talk of old times. My mistress learned that Indaro had made a good marriage and gone to live at Smyrna, but that Chrysomallo was still here — she would be summoned presently. And what did my mistress say to becoming a Lady of the Bedchamber, with patrician rank, like Chrysomallo, and living at the Palace?
My mistress did not dare to ask Theodora about her relations with
Justinian, but Theodora told her a good deal of her own accord. 'He is a clever fellow, cowardly, vacillating, manageable. The one difficulty I have with him is that he is religious, guiltily religious, and anxious, above all things, to keep his soul clear of any taint of heresy. He and I have a compact to be known to disagree on theological questions but not to pull in opposite directions. This keeps the general peace and brings intriguers to us from both sides, the Orthodox and the heretic; we pool our information.'
'And Cappadocian John?' my mistress asked.
'Our oath still holds.'
'To reduce him to utter beggary?'
'Presently, presently. Antonina, my dear friend, you will marry again, of course?' 'Why not?'
'I have a husband in mind for you.' 'O Theodora, a suitable one, I hope?'
'A man who is altogether too pious and upright, a man who avoids marriage by all manner of excuses- afraid, it seems, of falling into sin by making the wrong choice. I wish to do both him and you a service'
'A patrician?'
'A patrician. Young, handsome, a fine soldier — the finest cavalry-leader we possess.'
My mistress began to laugh.' O Theodora, you and I have evidently hit on the same choice for mc. But what if Belisarius refuses?'
'He will not refuse. It will come as an order from mc, in the Emperor's name.'
In her joy my mistress remembered her basket. She said: 'Theodora, this is the luckiest day in my life. Yet I have it in my power to make a present to the Emperor and yourself which, I believe, will repay your kindness to mc a hundred times over.'
She took out a spray of mulberry and showed Theodora three caterpillars feeding on it. 'The secret of silk,' she said.
The Empress looked incredulous. But then my mistress showed her the silk-cocoons in which the caterpillars, when wishing to become moths, are accustomed to wrap themselves; and told the story of how she came by this precious merchandise, as follows.