"With pleasure," said the host, smoothing his cushions; "although I
play no brilliant part in the story. Well, some time ago I was
returning home from the baths of Abaskanthus at about the eighth hour.
In the street I found a woman's litter, accompanied by four slaves,
who, I believe, were captive Gepidians. And exactly opposite the door
of my house stood two veiled women, their calanticas thrown over their
heads. One wore the garment of a slave, but the other was very richly
and tastefully dressed; and the little that could be seen of her figure
was divine. Such a graceful walk, such slender ankles, such an arched
instep! As I approached they entered the litter and were gone. But
I--you know that a sculptor's blood flows in the veins of every
Greek--I dreamt all night of the slender ankles and the light step. The
next day at noon, as I opened the door to go, as usual, to the
bibliographers in the Forum, I saw the same litter hurrying away. I
confess--though I am not usually vain--I thought that this time I had
made a conquest; I wished it so much. And I could no longer doubt it,
when, coming home again at the eighth hour, I saw my strange beauty,
this time unaccompanied, slip past me and hurry to her litter. I could
not follow the quick-footed slaves, so I entered my house, full of
happy thoughts. The ostiarius met me and said:
"'Sir, a veiled female slave waits in the library.'
"I hurried to the room with a beating heart. It was really the slave
whom I had seen yesterday. She threw back her mantle; a handsome
coquettish Moor or Carthaginian--I know the sort--looked at me with sly
eyes.
"'I claim the reward of a messenger, Kallistratos,' she said; 'I bring
you good news.'
"I took her hand and would have patted her cheek--for who desires to
win the mistress must kiss the slave--but she laughed and said:
"'No, not Eros; Hermes sends me. My mistress'--I listened eagerly. 'My
mistress is--a passionate lover of art. She offers you three thousand
solidi for the bust of Ares which stands in the niche at the door of
your house.'"
The young guests laughed loudly, Cethegus joining in their merriment.
"Well, laugh away!" continued the host, smiling; "but I assure you I
did not laugh. My dreams were dashed to pieces, and I said, greatly
vexed, 'I do not sell my busts.' The slave offered five thousand, ten
thousand solidi. I turned my back upon her and opened the door. Then
the sly puss said, 'I know that Kallistratos is indignant because he
expected an adventure, and only found a money-affair. He is a Greek,
and loves beauty; he burns with curiosity to see my mistress.' This
was so true, that I could only smile. 'Well,' she said, 'you shall see
her, and then I will renew my last offer. Should you still refuse, at
least you will have had the advantage of satisfying your curiosity.
To-morrow, at the eighth hour, the litter will come again. Then be
ready with your Ares.' And she slipped away. I cannot deny that my
curiosity was aroused. Quite decided not to give up my Ares, and yet to
see this beauteous art-enthusiast, I waited impatiently for the
appointed hour. It came, and with it the litter. I stood watching at my
open door. The slave descended. 'Come,' she called to me, 'you shall
see her.' Trembling with excitement, I stepped forward, the curtain
fell, and I saw----"
"Well?" cried Marcus, bending forward, his cup in his hand.
"What I shall never again forget! a face, friends, of unimagined
beauty. Cypris and Artemis in one! I was dazzled. But I hurried back,
lifted the Ares from its niche, gave it to the Punic slave, refused her
money, and staggered into my house as confused as if I had seen a
wood-nymph."
"Well, that is wonderful," laughed Massurius; "you are else no novice
in the works of Eros."
"But," asked Cethegus, "how do you know that your charmer was a Goth?"
"She had dark-red hair, and a milk-white skin, and black eyebrows."
"Oh, ye gods!" thought Cethegus. But he was silent and waited. No one
present uttered the name. "They do not know her.--And when was this?"
he asked his host.
"During the last calendars."
"Quite right," thought Cethegus. "She came at that time from Tarentum
through Rome to Ravenna. She rested here for three days."
"And so," said Piso, laughing, "you gave your Ares for a look at a
beautiful woman! A bad bargain! This time, Mercury and Venus were
allies. Poor Kallistratos!"
"Oh," said Kallistratos, "the bust was not worth so very much. It was
modern work. Ion of Neapolis made it three years, ago. But I tell you,
I would give a Phidias for such a look."
"An ideal head?" asked Cethegus indifferently, and lifted admiringly
the bronze mixing-vase which stood before him.
"No; the model was a barbarian--some Gothic earl or other--Watichis or
Witichas--who can remember these hyperborean names," said Kalistratos,
as he peeled a peach.
Cethegus reflectively sipped his wine from the cup of amber.