CHAPTER XI
What time the
lower horn of a new moon touched the castellated piles on Mount Sulpius, and
two thirds of the people of Antioch were out on their house-tops comforting
themselves with the night breeze when it blew, and with fans when it failed,
Simonides sat in the chair which had come to be a part of him, and from the
terrace looked down over the river, and his ships a-swing at their moorings.
The wall at his back cast its shadow broadly over the water to the opposite
shore. Above him the endless tramp upon the bridge went on. Esther was holding
a plate for him containing his frugal supper - some wheaten cakes, light as
wafers, some honey, and a bowl of milk, into which he now and then dipped the
wafers after dipping them into the honey.
"Malluch is
a laggard to-night," he said, showing where his thoughts were.
"Do you
believe he will come?" Esther asked.
"Unless he
has taken to the sea or the desert, and is yet following on, he will
come."
Simonides spoke
with quiet confidence.
"He may
write," she said.
"Not so,
Esther. He would have despatched a letter when he found he could not return,
and told me so; because I have not received such a letter, I know he can come,
and will."
"I hope
so," she said, very softly.
Something in the
utterance attracted his attention; it might have been the tone, it might have
been the wish. The smallest bird cannot light upon the greatest tree without
sending a shock to its most distant fibre; every mind is at times no less
sensitive to the most trifling words.
"You wish
him to come, Esther?" he asked.
"Yes,"
she said, lifting her eyes to his.
"Why? Can
you tell me?" he persisted.
"Because"
- she hesitated, then began again -”because the young man is -” The stop was
full.
"Our master.
Is that the word?"
"Yes."
"And you
still think I should not suffer him to go away without telling him to come, if
he chooses, and take us - and all we have - all, Esther - the goods, the
shekels, the ships, the slaves, and the mighty credit, which is a mantle of
cloth of gold and finest silver spun for me by the greatest of the angels of
men - Success."
She made no
answer.
"Does that
move you nothing? No?" he said, with the slightest taint of bitterness.
"Well, well, I have found, Esther, the worst reality is never unendurable
when it comes out from behind the clouds through which we at first see it
darkly - never - not even the rack. I suppose it will be so with death. And by
that philosophy the slavery to which we are going must afterwhile become sweet.
It pleases me even now to think what a favored man our master is. The fortune
cost him nothing - not an anxiety, not a drop of sweat, not so much as a
thought; it attaches to him undreamed of, and in his youth. And, Esther, let me
waste a little vanity with the reflection; he gets what he could not go into
the market and buy with all the pelf in a sum - thee, my child, my darling;
thou blossom from the tomb of my lost Rachel!"
He drew her to
him, and kissed her twice - once for herself, once for her mother.
"Say not
so,". she said, when his hand fell from her neck. "Let us think
better of him; he knows what sorrow is, and will set us free."
"Ah, thy
instincts are fine, Esther; and thou knowest I lean upon them in doubtful cases
where good or bad is to be pronounced of a person standing before thee as he
stood this morning. But - but" - his voice rose and hardened -”these limbs
upon which I cannot stand - this body drawn and beaten out of human shape -
they are not all I bring him of myself. Oh no, no! I bring him a soul which has
triumphed over torture and Roman malice keener than any torture - I bring him a
mind which has eyes to see gold at a distance farther than the ships of Solomon
sailed, and power to bring it to hand - ay, Esther, into my palm here for the
fingers to grip and keep lest it take wings at some other's word - a mind
skilled at scheming" - he stopped and laughed -”Why, Esther, before the
new moon which in the courts of the Temple on the Holy Hill they are this
moment celebrating passes into its next quartering I could ring the world so as
to startle even Caesar; for know you, child, I have that faculty which is
better than any one sense, better than a perfect body, better than courage and
will, better than experience, ordinarily the best product of the longest lives
- the faculty divinest of men, but which" - he stopped, and laughed again,
not bitterly, but with real zest -”but which even the great do not sufficiently
account, while with the herd it is a non-existent - the faculty of drawing men
to my purpose and holding them faithfully to its achievement, by which, as
against things to be done, I multiply myself into hundreds and thousands. So
the captains of my ships plough the seas, and bring me honest returns; so
Malluch follows the youth, our master, and will" - just then a footstep
was heard upon the terrace -”Ha, Esther! said I not so? He is here - and we
will have tidings. For thy sake, sweet child - my lily just budded - I pray the
Lord God, who has not forgotten his wandering sheep of Israel, that they be
good and comforting. Now we will know if he will let thee go with all thy
beauty, and me with all my faculties."
Malluch came to
the chair.
"Peace to
you, good master," he said, with a low obeisance -”and to you, Esther,
most excellent of daughters."
He stood before
them deferentially, and the attitude and the address left it difficult to
define his relation to them; the one was that of a servant, the other indicated
the familiar and friend. On the other side, Simonides, as was his habit in
business, after answering the salutation went straight to the subject.
"What of the
young man, Malluch?"
The
events of the day were told quietly and in the simplest words, and until he was
through there was no interruption; nor did the listener in the chair so much as
move a hand during the narration; but for his eyes, wide open and bright, and
an occasional long-drawn breath, he might have been accounted an effigy.
"Thank you,
thank you, Malluch," he said, heartily, at the conclusion; "you have
done well - no one could have done better. Now what say you of the young man's
nationality?"
"He is an
Israelite, good master, and of the tribe of Judah."
"You are
positive?"
"Very positive."
"He appears
to have told you but little of his life."
"He has
somewhere learned to be prudent. I might call him distrustful. He baffled all
my attempts upon his confidence until we started from the Castalian fount going
to the village of Daphne."
"A place of
abomination! Why went he there?"
"I would say
from curiosity, the first motive of the many who go; but, very strangely, he
took no interest in the things he saw. Of the Temple, he merely asked if it
were Grecian. Good master, the young man has a trouble of mind from which he
would hide, and he went to the Grove, I think, as we go to sepulchres with our
dead - he went to bury it."
"That were
well, if so," Simonides said, in a low voice; then louder, "Malluch,
the curse of the time is prodigality. The poor make themselves poorer as apes
of the rich, and the merely rich carry themselves like princes. Saw you signs
of the weakness in the youth? Did he display moneys - coin of Rome or
Israel?"
"None, none,
good master."
"Surely,
Malluch, where there are so many inducements to folly - so much, I mean, to eat
and drink - surely he made you generous offer of some sort. His age, if nothing
more, would warrant that much."
"He neither
ate nor drank in my company."
"In what he
said or did, Malluch, could you in anywise detect his master-idea? You know
they peep through cracks close enough to stop the wind."
"Give me to
understand you," said Malluch, in doubt.
"Well, you
know we nor speak nor act, much less decide grave questions concerning
ourselves, except as we be driven by a motive. In that respect, what made you
of him?"
"As to that,
Master Simonides, I can answer with much assurance. He is devoted to finding
his mother and sister - that first. Then he has a grievance against Rome; and
as the Messala of whom I told you had something to do with the wrong, the great
present object is to humiliate him. The meeting at the fountain furnished an
opportunity, but it was put aside as not sufficiently public."
"The Messala
is influential," said Simonides, thoughtfully.
"Yes; but
the next meeting will be in the Circus."
"Well - and
then?"
"The son of
Arrius will win."
"How
know you?"
Malluch smiled.
"I
am judging by what he says."
"Is that
all?"
"No; there
is a much better sign - his spirit."
"Ay; but,
Malluch, his idea of vengeance - what is its scope? Does he limit it to the few
who did him the wrong, or does he take in the many? And more - is his feeling
but the vagary of a sensitive boy, or has it the seasoning of suffering manhood
to give it endurance? You know, Malluch, the vengeful thought that has root
merely in the mind is but a dream of idlest sort which one clear day will
dissipate; while revenge the passion is a disease of the heart which climbs up,
up to the brain, and feeds itself on both alike."
In
this question, Simonides for the first time showed signs of feeling; he spoke
with rapid utterance, and with clenched hands and the eagerness of a man
illustrating the disease he described.
"Good my master," Malluch replied,
"one of my reasons for believing the young man a Jew is the intensity of
his hate. It was plain to me he had himself under watch, as was natural, seeing
how long he has lived in an atmosphere of Roman jealousy; yet I saw it blaze -
once when he wanted to know Ilderim's feeling towards Rome, and again when I
told him the story of the sheik and the wise man, and spoke of the question,
'Where is he that is born King of the Jews?'"
Simonides leaned
forward quickly.
"Ah,
Malluch, his words - give me his words; let me judge the impression the mystery
made upon him."
"He wanted
to know the exact words. Were they TO BE or BORN TO BE? It appeared he was
struck by a seeming difference in the effect of the two phrases."
Simonides settled
back into his pose of listening judge.
"Then,"
said Malluch, "I told him Ilderim's view of the mystery - that the king
would come with the doom of Rome. The young man's blood rose over his cheeks
and forehead, and he said earnestly, 'Who but a Herod can be king while Rome
endures?'"
"Meaning
what?"
"That the
empire must be destroyed before there could be another rule."
Simonides gazed
for a time at the ships and their shadows slowly swinging together in the
river; when he looked up, it was to end the interview.
"Enough,
Malluch," he said. "Get you to eat, and make ready to return to the
Orchard of Palms; you must help the young man in his coming trial. Come to me
in the morning. I will send a letter to Ilderim." Then in an undertone, as
if to himself, he added, "I may attend the Circus myself."
When Malluch
after the customary benediction given and received was gone, Simonides took a
deep draught of milk, and seemed refreshed and easy of mind.
"Put the
meal down, Esther," he said; "it is over."
She obeyed.
"Here
now."
She resumed her
place upon the arm of the chair close to him.
"God is good
to me, very good," he said, fervently. "His habit is to move in
mystery, yet sometimes he permits us to think we see and understand him. I am
old, dear, and must go; but now, in this eleventh hour, when my hope was
beginning to die, he sends me this one with a promise, and I am lifted up. I
see the way to a great part in a circumstance itself so great that it shall be
as a new birth to the whole world. And I see a reason for the gift of my great
riches, and the end for which they were designed. Verily, my child, I take hold
on life anew."
Esther nestled
closer to him, as if to bring his thoughts from their far-flying.
"The king
has been born" he continued, imagining he was still speaking to her,
"and he must be near the half of common life. Balthasar says he was a
child on his mother's lap when he saw him, and gave him presents and worship;
and Ilderim holds it was twenty-seven years ago last December when Balthasar
and his companions came to his tent asking a hiding-place from Herod. Wherefore
the coming cannot now be long delayed. To-night - to-morrow it may be. Holy
fathers of Israel, what happiness in the thought! I seem to hear the crash of
the falling of old walls and the clamor of a universal change - ay, and for the
uttermost joy of men, the earth opens to take Rome in, and they look up and
laugh and sing that she is not, while we are;" then he laughed at himself.
"Why, Esther, heard you ever the like? Surely, I have on me the passion of
a singer, the heat of blood and the thrill of Miriam and David. In my thoughts,
which should be those of a plain worker in figures and facts, there is a
confusion of cymbals clashing and harp-strings loud beaten, and the voices of a
multitude standing around a new-risen throne. I will put the thinking by for
the present; only, dear, when the king comes he will need money and men, for as
he was a child born of woman he will be but a man after all, bound to human
ways as you and I are. And for the money he will have need of getters and
keepers, and for the men leaders. There, there! See you not a broad road for my
walking, and the running of the youth our master? - and at the end of it glory
and revenge for us both? - and - and" - he paused, struck with the
selfishness of a scheme in which she had no part or good result; then added,
kissing her, "And happiness for thy mother's child."
She sat still,
saying nothing. Then he remembered the difference in natures, and the law by
which we are not permitted always to take delight in the same cause or be
equally afraid of the same thing. He remembered she was but a girl.
"Of what are
you thinking, Esther?" he said, in his common home-like way. "If the
thought have the form of a wish, give it me, little one, while the power
remains mine. For power, you know, is a fretful thing, and hath its wings
always spread for flight."
She answered with
a simplicity almost childish,
"Send for
him, father. Send for him to-night, and do not let him go into the
Circus."
"Ah!"
he said, prolonging the exclamation; and again his eyes fell upon the river,
where the shadows were more shadowy than ever, since the moon had sunk far down
behind Sulpius, leaving the city to the ineffectual stars. Shall we say it,
reader? He was touched by a twinge of jealousy. If she should really love the
young master! Oh no! That could not be; she was too young. But the idea had
fast grip, and directly held him still and cold. She was sixteen. He knew it
well. On the last natal day he had gone with her to the shipyard where there
was a launch, and the yellow flag which the galley bore to its bridal with the
waves had on it "Esther;" so they celebrated the day together. Yet
the fact struck him now with the force of a surprise. There are realizations
which come to us all painfully; mostly, however, such as pertain to ourselves;
that we are growing old, for instance; and, more terrible, that we must die.
Such a one crept into his heart, shadowy as the shadows, yet substantial enough
to wring from him a sigh which was almost a groan. It was not sufficient that
she should enter upon her young womanhood a servant, but she must carry to her
master her affections, the truth and tenderness and delicacy of which he the
father so well knew, because to this time they had all been his own
undividedly. The fiend whose task it is to torture us with fears and bitter
thoughts seldom does his work by halves. In the pang of the moment, the brave
old man lost sight of his new scheme, and of the miraculous king its subject.
By a mighty effort, however, he controlled himself, and asked, calmly,
"Not go into the Circus, Esther? Why, child?"
"It is not a
place for a son of Israel, father."
"Rabbinical,
rabbinical, Esther! Is that all?"
The tone of the
inquiry was searching, and went to her heart, which began to beat loudly - so
loudly she could not answer. A confusion new and strangely pleasant fell upon
her.
"The young man is to have the fortune,"
he said, taking her hand, and speaking more tenderly; "he is to have the
ships and the shekels - all, Esther, all. Yet I did not feel poor, for thou
wert left me, and thy love so like the dead Rachel's. Tell me, is he to have
that too?"
She bent over
him, and laid her cheek against his head.
"Speak,
Esther. I will be the stronger of the knowledge. In warning there is
strength."
She sat up then,
and spoke as if she were Truth's holy self.
"Comfort
thee, father. I will never leave thee; though he take my love, I will be thy
handmaid ever as now."
And, stooping,
she kissed him.
"And
more," she said, continuing: "he is comely in my sight, and the
pleading of his voice drew me to him, and I shudder to think of him in danger.
Yes, father, I would be more than glad to see him again. Still, the love that
is unrequited cannot be perfect love, wherefore I will wait a time, remembering
I am thy daughter and my mother's."
"A very
blessing of the Lord art thou, Esther! A blessing to keep me rich, though all
else be lost. And by his holy name and everlasting life, I swear thou shalt not
suffer."
At his request, a
little later, the servant came and rolled the chair into the room, where he sat
for a time thinking of the coming of the king, while she went off and slept the
sleep of the innocent.
CHAPTER XII
The palace across
the river nearly opposite Simonides' place is said to have been completed by
the famous Epiphanes, and was all such a habitation can be imagined; though he
was a builder whose taste ran to the immense rather than the classical, now so
called - an architectural imitator, in other words, of the Persians instead of
the Greeks.
The wall
enclosing the whole island to the waters edge, and built for the double purpose
of bulwark against the river and defence against the mob, was said to have
rendered the palace unfit for constant occupancy, insomuch that the legates
abandoned it and moved to another residence erected for them on the western
ridge of Mount Sulpius, under the Temple of Jupiter. Persons were not wanting,
however, who flatly denied the bill against the ancient abode. They said, with
shrewdness at least, that the real object of the removal of the legates was not
a more healthful locality, but the assurance afforded them by the huge
barracks, named, according to the prevalent style, citadel, situated just over
the way on the eastern ridge of the mount. And the opinion had plausible
showing. Among other pertinent things, it was remarked that the palace was kept
in perpetual readiness for use; and when a consul, general of the army, king,
or visiting potentate of any kind arrived at Antioch, quarters were at once
assigned him on the island.
As we have to do
with but one apartment in the old pile, the residue of it is left to the
reader's fancy; and as pleases him, he may go through its gardens, baths,
halls, and labyrinth of rooms to the pavilions on the roof, all furnished as
became a house of fame in a city which was more nearly Milton's "gorgeous
East" than any other in the world.
At this age the
apartment alluded to would be termed a saloon. It was quite spacious, floored
with polished marble slabs, and lighted in the day by skylights in which
colored mica served as glass. The walls were broken by Atlantes, no two of
which were alike, but all supporting a cornice wrought with arabesques
exceedingly intricate in form, and more elegant on account of superadditions of
color - blue, green, Tyrian purple, and gold. Around the room ran a continuous
divan of Indian silks and wool of Cashmere. The furniture consisted of tables
and stools of Egyptian patterns grotesquely carved. We have left Simonides in
his chair perfecting his scheme in aid of the miraculous king, whose coming he
has decided is so close at hand. Esther is asleep; and now, having crossed the
river by the bridge, and made way through the lion-guarded gate and a number of
Babylonian halls and courts, let us enter the gilded saloon.
There are five
chandeliers hanging by sliding bronze chains from the ceiling - one in each
corner, and in the centre one - enormous pyramids of lighted lamps,
illuminating even the demoniac faces of the Atlantes and the complex tracery of
the cornice. About the tables, seated or standing, or moving restlessly from
one to another, there are probably a hundred persons, whom we must study at least
for a moment.
They are all
young, some of them little more than boys. That they are Italians and mostly
Romans is past doubt. They all speak Latin in purity, while each one appears in
the in-door dress of the great capital on the Tiber; that is, in tunics short
of sleeve and skirt, a style of vesture well adapted to the climate of Antioch,
and especially comfortable in the too close atmosphere of the saloon. On the
divan here and there togas and lacernae lie where they have been carelessly
tossed, some of them significantly bordered with purple. On the divan also lie
sleepers stretched at ease; whether they were overcome by the heat and fatigue
of the sultry day or by Bacchus we will not pause to inquire.
The hum of voices
is loud and incessant. Sometimes there is an explosion of laughter, sometimes a
burst of rage or exultation; but over all prevails a sharp, prolonged rattle,
at first somewhat confusing to the non-familiar. If we approach the tables,
however, the mystery solves itself. The company is at the favorite games,
draughts and dice, singly or together, and the rattle is merely of the
tesserae, or ivory cubes, loudly shaken, and the moving of the hostes on the
checkered boards.
Who are the
company?
"Good
Flavius," said a player, holding his piece in suspended movement,
"thou seest yon lacerna; that one in front of us on the divan. It is fresh
from the shop, and hath a shoulder-buckle of gold broad as a palm."
"Well," said Flavius, intent upon his
game, "I have seen such before; wherefore thine may not be old, yet, by
the girdle of Venus, it is not new! What of it?"
"Nothing.
Only I would give it to find a man who knows everything."
"Ha, ha! For
something cheaper, I will find thee here several with purple who will take thy
offer. But play."
"There -
check!"
"So, by all
the Jupiters! Now, what sayest thou? Again?"
"Be
it so."
"And the
wager?"
"A
sestertium."
Then each drew
his tablets and stilus and made a memorandum; and, while they were resetting
the pieces, Flavius returned to his friend's remark.
"A man who
knows everything! Hercle! the oracles would die. What wouldst thou with such a
monster?"
"Answer to
one question, my Flavius; then, perpol! I would cut his throat."
"And the question?"
"I would
have him tell me the hour - Hour, said
I? - nay, the minute - Maxentius will arrive to-morrow."
"Good play,
good play! I have you! And why the minute?"
"Hast thou
ever stood uncovered in the Syrian sun on the quay at which he will land? The
fires of the Vesta are not so hot; and, by the Stator of our father Romulus, I
would die, if die I must, in Rome. Avernus is here; there, in the square before
the Forum, I could stand, and, with my hand raised thus, touch the floor of the
gods. Ha, by Venus, my Flavius, thou didst beguile me! I have lost. O
Fortune!"
"Again?"
"I must have
back my sestertium."
"Be it
so."
And
they played again and again; and when day, stealing through the skylights,
began to dim the lamps, it found the two in the same places at the same table,
still at the game. Like most of the company, they were military attaches of the
consul, awaiting his arrival and amusing themselves meantime.
During this
conversation a party entered the room, and, unnoticed at first, proceeded to
the central table. The signs were that they had come from a revel just
dismissed. Some of them kept their feet with difficulty. Around the leader's
brow was a chaplet which marked him master of the feast, if not the giver. The
wine had made no impression upon him unless to heighten his beauty, which was
of the most manly Roman style; he carried his head high raised; the blood
flushed his lips and cheeks brightly; his eyes glittered; though the manner in
which, shrouded in a toga spotless white and of ample folds, he walked was too
nearly imperial for one sober and not a Caesar. In going to the table, he made
room for himself and his followers with little ceremony and no apologies; and
when at length he stopped, and looked over it and at the players, they all
turned to him, with a shout like a cheer.
"Messala!
Messala!" they cried.
Those in distant
quarters, hearing the cry, re-echoed it where they were. Instantly there were
dissolution of groups, and breaking-up of games, and a general rush towards the
centre.
Messala took the
demonstration indifferently, and proceeded presently to show the ground of his
popularity.
"A health to
thee, Drusus, my friend," he said to the player next at his right; "a
health - and thy tablets a moment."
He raised the
waxen boards, glanced at the memoranda of wagers, and tossed them down.
"Denarii,
only denarii - coin of cartmen and butchers!" he said, with a scornful
laugh. "By the drunken Semele, to what is Rome coming, when a Caesar sits
o' nights waiting a turn of fortune to bring him but a beggarly denarius!"
The scion of the
Drusi reddened to his brows, but the bystanders broke in upon his reply by
surging closer around the table, and shouting, "The Messala! the
Messala!"
"Men of the
Tiber," Messala continued, wresting a box with the dice in it from a hand
near-by, "who is he most favored of the gods? A Roman. Who is he lawgiver
of the nations? A Roman. Who is he, by sword right, the universal master?"
The company were
of the easily inspired, and the thought was one to which they were born; in a
twinkling they snatched the answer from him.
"A Roman, a
Roman!" they shouted.
"Yet -
yet" - he lingered to catch their ears -”yet there is a better than the
best of Rome."
He tossed his
patrician head and paused, as if to sting them with his sneer.
"Hear
ye?" he asked. "There is a better than the best of Rome."
"Ay -
Hercules!" cried one.
"Bacchus!"
yelled a satirist.
"Jove -
Jove!" thundered the crowd.
"No,"
Messala answered, "among men."
"Name him,
name him!" they demanded.
"I
will," he said, the next lull. "He who to the perfection of Rome hath
added the perfection of the East; who to the arm of conquest, which is Western,
hath also the art needful to the enjoyment of dominion, which is Eastern."
"Perpol! His
best is a Roman, after all," some one shouted; and there was a great
laugh, and long clapping of hands - an admission that Messala had the
advantage.
"In the
East" he continued, "we have no gods, only Wine, Women, and Fortune,
and the greatest of them is Fortune; wherefore our motto, 'Who dareth what I
dare?' - fit for the senate, fit for battle, fittest for him who, seeking the
best, challenges the worst."
His voice dropped
into an easy, familiar tone, but without relaxing the ascendancy he had gained.
"In the
great chest up in the citadel I have five talents coin current in the markets,
and here are the receipts for them."
From his tunic he
drew a roll of paper, and, flinging it on the table, continued, amidst
breathless silence, every eye having him in view fixed on his, every ear
listening:
"The
sum lies there the measure of what I dare. Who of you dares so much! You are
silent. Is it too great? I will strike off one talent. What! still silent?
Come, then, throw me once for these three talents - only three; for two; for
one - one at least - one for the honor of the river by which you were born -
Rome East against Rome West! - Orontes the barbarous against Tiber the
sacred!"
He rattled the
dice overhead while waiting.
"The Orontes
against the Tiber!" he repeated, with an increase of scornful emphasis.
Not a man moved;
then he flung the box upon the table and, laughing, took up the receipts.
"Ha, ha, ha! By the Olympian Jove, I know now
ye have fortunes to make or to mend; therefore are ye come to Antioch. Ho,
Cecilius!"
"Here,
Messala!" cried a man behind him; "here am I, perishing in the mob,
and begging a drachma to settle with the ragged ferryman. But, Pluto take me!
these new ones have not so much as an obolus among them."
The sally
provoked a burst of laughter, under which the saloon rang and rang again.
Messala alone kept his gravity.
"Go,
thou," he said to Cecilius, "to the chamber whence we came, and bid
the servants bring the amphorae here, and the cups and goblets. If these our
countrymen, looking for fortune, have not purses, by the Syrian Bacchus, I will
see if they are not better blessed with stomachs! Haste thee!"
Then he turned to
Drusus, with a laugh heard throughout the apartment.
"Ha, ha, my
friend! Be thou not offended because I levelled the Caesar in thee down to the
denarii. Thou seest I did but use the name to try these fine fledglings of our
old Rome. Come, my Drusus, come!" He took up the box again and rattled the
dice merrily. "Here, for what sum thou wilt, let us measure
fortunes."
The manner was
frank, cordial, winsome. Drusus melted in a moment.
"By the
Nymphae, yes!" he said, laughing. "I will throw with thee, Messala -
for a denarius."
A very boyish
person was looking over the table watching the scene. Suddenly Messala turned
to him.
"Who art
thou?" he asked.
The lad drew
back.
"Nay, by
Castor! and his brother too! I meant not offence. It is a rule among men, in
matters other than dice, to keep the record closest when the deal is least. I
have need of a clerk. Wilt thou serve me?"
The young fellow
drew his tablets ready to keep the score: the manner was irresistible.
"Hold,
Messala, hold!" cried Drusus. "I know not if it be ominous to stay
the poised dice with a question; but one occurs to me, and I must ask it though
Venus slap me with her girdle."
"Nay, my
Drusus, Venus with her girdle off is Venus in love. To thy question - I will
make the throw and hold it against mischance. Thus -”
He turned the box
upon the table and held it firmly over the dice.
And Drusus asked,
"Did you ever see one Quintus Arrius?"
"The
duumvir?"
"No - his
son?"
"I knew not
he had a son."
"Well, it is
nothing," Drusus added, indifferently; "only, my Messala, Pollux was
not more like Castor than Arrius is like thee."
The remark had
the effect of a signal: twenty voices took it up.
"True, true!
His eyes - his face," they cried.
"What!"
answered one, disgusted. "Messala is a Roman; Arrius is a Jew."
"Thou sayest
right," a third exclaimed. "He is a Jew, or Momus lent his mother the
wrong mask."
There was promise
of a dispute; seeing which, Messala interposed. "The wine is not come, my
Drusus; and, as thou seest, I have the freckled Pythias as they were dogs in
leash. As to Arrius, I will accept thy opinion of him, so thou tell me more
about him."
"Well, be he
Jew or Roman - and, by the great god Pan, I say it not in disrespect of thy
feelings, my Messala! - this Arrius is handsome and brave and shrewd. The
emperor offered him favor and patronage, which he refused. He came up through
mystery, and keepeth distance as if he felt himself better or knew himself
worse than the rest of us. In the palaestrae he was unmatched; he played with
the blue-eyed giants from the Rhine and the hornless bulls of Sarmatia as they
were willow wisps. The duumvir left him vastly rich. He has a passion for arms,
and thinks of nothing but war. Maxentius admitted him into his family, and he
was to have taken ship with us, but we lost him at Ravenna. Nevertheless he
arrived safely. We heard of him this morning. Perpol! Instead of coming to the
palace or going to the citadel, he dropped his baggage at the khan, and hath
disappeared again."
At the beginning
of the speech Messala listened with polite indifference; as it proceeded, he
became more attentive; at the conclusion, he took his hand from the dice-box,
and called out, "Ho, my Caius! Dost thou hear?"
A youth at his
elbow - his Myrtilus, or comrade, in the day's chariot practice - answered,
much pleased with the attention, "Did I not, my Messala, I were not thy
friend."
"Dost thou
remember the man who gave thee the fall to-day?"
"By the
love-locks of Bacchus, have I not a bruised shoulder to help me keep it in
mind?" and he seconded the words with a shrug that submerged his ears.
"Well, be
thou grateful to the Fates - I have found thy enemy. Listen."
Thereupon Messala
turned to Drusus.
"Tell us
more of him - perpol! - of him who is both Jew and Roman - by Phoebus, a
combination to make a Centaur lovely! What garments doth he affect, my
Drusus?"
"Those of
the Jews."
"Hearest
thou, Caius?" said Messala. "The fellow is young - one; he hath the
visage of a Roman - two; he loveth best the garb of a Jew - three; and in the
palaestrae fame and fortune come of arms to throw a horse or tilt a chariot, as
the necessity may order - four. And, Drusus, help thou my friend again.
Doubtless this Arrius hath tricks of language; otherwise he could not so
confound himself, to-day a Jew, to-morrow a Roman; but of the rich tongue of
Athene - discourseth he in that as well?"
"With such
purity, Messala, he might have been a contestant in the Isthmia."
"Art thou
listening, Caius?" said Messala. "The fellow is qualified to salute a
woman - for that matter Aristomache herself - in the Greek; and as I keep the
count, that is five. What sayest thou?"
"Thou hast
found him, my Messala," Caius answered; "or I am not myself."
"Thy pardon,
Drusus - and pardon of all - for speaking in riddles thus," Messala said,
in his winsome way. "By all the decent gods, I would not strain thy
courtesy to the point of breaking, but now help thou me. See!" - he put
his hand on the dice-box again, laughing -”See how close I hold the Pythias and
their secret! Thou didst speak, I think, of mystery in connection with the
coming of the son of Arrius. Tell me of that."
"'Tis
nothing, Messala, nothing," Drusus replied; "a child's story. When
Arrius, the father, sailed in pursuit of the pirates, he was without wife or
family; he returned with a boy - him of whom we speak - and next day adopted
him."
"Adopted
him?" Messala repeated. "By the gods, Drusus, thou dost, indeed,
interest me! Where did the duumvir find the boy? And who was he?"
"Who shall answer thee that, Messala? who but
the young Arrius himself? Perpol! in the fight the duumvir - then but a tribune
- lost his galley. A returning vessel found him and one other - all of the crew
who survived - afloat upon the same plank. I give you now the story of the
rescuers, which hath this excellence at least - it hath never been
contradicted. They say, the duumvir's companion on the plank was a Jew -”
"A
Jew!" echoed Messala.
"And a
slave."
"How Drusus?
A slave?"
"When the
two were lifted to the deck, the duumvir was in his tribune's armor, and the
other in the vesture of a rower."
Messala rose from
leaning against the table.
"A
galley" - he checked the debasing word, and looked around, for once in his
life at loss. Just then a procession of slaves filed into the room, some with
great jars of wine, others with baskets of fruits and confections, others again
with cups and flagons, mostly silver. There was inspiration in the sight.
Instantly Messala climbed upon a stool.
"Men of the
Tiber," he said, in a clear voice, "let us turn this waiting for our
chief into a feast of Bacchus. Whom choose ye for master?"
Drusus arose.
"Who shall
be master but the giver of the feast?" he said. "Answer,
Romans."
They gave their
reply in a shout.
Messala took the
chaplet from his head, gave it to Drusus, who climbed upon the table, and, in
the view of all, solemnly replaced it, making Messala master of the night.
"There came
with me into the room," he said, "some friends just risen from table.
That our feast may have the approval of sacred custom, bring hither that one of
them most overcome by wine."
A din of voices
answered, "Here he is, here he is!"
And from the
floor where he had fallen, a youth was brought forward, so effeminately
beautiful he might have passed for the drinking-god himself - only the crown
would have dropped from his head, and the thyrsus from his hand.
"Lift him
upon the table," the master said.
It was found he
could not sit.
"Help him,
Drusus, as the fair Nyone may yet help thee."
Drusus took the
inebriate in his arms.
Then addressing
the limp figure, Messala said, amidst profound silence, "O Bacchus!
greatest of the gods, be thou propitious to-night. And for myself, and these
thy votaries, I vow this chaplet" - and from his head he raised it
reverently -”I vow this chaplet to thy altar in the Grove of Daphne."
He bowed,
replaced the crown upon his locks, then stooped and uncovered the dice, saying,
with a laugh, "See, my Drusus, by the ass of Silenus, the denarius is
mine!"
There was a shout
that set the floor to quaking, and the grim Atlantes to dancing, and the orgies
began.
