With the exception of the two leaders, very few Romans had fallen in
the short hand-to-hand combat; for the Bajuvaren duke had before the
attack given the order: "To-day--prisoners! No slain! Consider, ye men;
every man slain is a loss, every prisoner a servant gained for the new
masters of the land!"
Fulvius and Crispus had been among the troops turned by Severus against
the Bajuvaren. When their ranks were broken, the nephew cried to the
uncle: "To Felicitas! Through the ford!" and as they had stood
together, so they now ran together towards the river below the bridge,
for that was held by the enemy.
But the stout Crispus, although he had quickly thrown away spear and
shield, was soon left far behind the agile stone-mason.
An Alemannian horseman, with a youth running at his side, followed
both.
Crispus was soon overtaken.
His ridiculous appearance challenged the rider to give him a blow on
the casserole covering his head in the place of a helmet, it fell over
his eyes and nose, from which poured a stream of blood, he gave a loud
cry and fell to the ground; he thought he was dead.
But he soon came back to the agreeable certainty of life, when the
foot-soldier, who had remained by him, roughly tore the casserole from
his head. Crispus sprang up, gasping for breath, the German laughed in
his big, fat, highly-astonished face.
"Ha! this Roman hero has had good provender. And this nose is not red
with its own blood or with water either. Ho, friend, I will set thee
free, if thou wilt reveal to me where in Juvavum the best wine can be
got. It seems to me thou art the man to know it."
Crispus, so pleasantly spoken to, recovered himself quickly, now that
he was quite convinced that he was not dead, and would not have to die
for the fatherland.
He drew a deep breath and spoke, raising his hand as an oath:
"I swear as a Roman burgher, Jaffa, the good Jew, near the Basilica,
has the sweetest. He is not baptized--but neither is his Falernian.
"Excellent!" cried the Alemannian. "Come, ye friends!"--a whole crowd
of Alemanni and Bajuvaren were shaking hands close about him--"to Jaffa
the Jew, to drink our gratitude to the god Ziu for our pleasant
victory! Thou, fat fellow, lead on, and if, contrary to thine oath, it
is sour, this Jew's wine, we will drown thee therein."
But Crispus was not alarmed; he rejoiced, on the contrary, that he
would now be able to drink gratis, as much as he wished, of the
choicest long-stored Cyprus wine, which hitherto had been quite beyond
his means. That it was to be drunk to the honour of the god Ziu did not
make the wine worse. "And," said he to himself, "it is at all events
better pleasing to God that we empty the Jew's wine-skins than those of
a good Christian."
He did not trouble about his house. "They will not interfere with my
old Ancilla; her wrinkles will protect her better than many shields.
The bit of money is buried; they will not carry away the plaster
statues, they will only cut off their noses with great zeal and an
incomprehensible liking for the business: it does not matter, one can
stick them on again," But he was anxious about Fulvius, about
Felicitas.
He looked about for the fugitive, but could not see him either lying
dead, or brought in a prisoner; he seemed to be swallowed up by the
earth: the rider who had pursued him had turned his horse in another
direction, and was pursuing other flying Romans. Crispus hoped that the
young husband had escaped. He (Crispus) was quite unable to help
Felicitas, for his conqueror held him firmly by the shoulder and pushed
him towards the bridge.
"Forward! Thou canst not imagine, Roman, how Alemannian thirst burns.
And near the Basilica, sayest thou? That is right! There we shall find,
besides, gold and silver cups for the liquor."
And in front of the whole noisy, laughing, shouting swarm, the fat
Crispus, an involuntary pot-companion, stumped along as fast as his
short legs could carry him, towards the gate through which he had
shortly before marched, a proud helmeted legionary. He had left the
casserole where it fell, but he was still reminded of it by the
smarting of his nose.
In the meantime Fulvius had actually disappeared. He had not thrown
away shield and spear, like his corpulent companion; he was young,
strong, he had no fear, and he thought of the promise which he had
given at his release to the gallant Severus. He had now reached the
river and stood firmly on the marshy bank. He heard the hoof-strokes of
the galloping horse coming nearer and nearer, and he resolutely turned,
looked at the enemy fiercely, raised his spear, took good aim and threw
it with all the strength of his arm against the face of the German.
"Well aimed!" cried he, as he dropped the reins, and with his left hand
caught the whizzing spear.
The shield of Fulvius would now have availed him little, for the
galloping horseman aimed at the same time with both spears, his own and
the one he had caught, at the Roman's head and abdomen. But before the
deadly lances reached him, Fulvius had suddenly disappeared; in
stepping backwards from the snorting horse, that must the next instant
have prostrated him, he lost his balance, slipped on the smooth grass,
and fell backwards into the stream, the waters of which, dashing up,
closed over him. The Alemannian bent down from his steed and looked
after him laughing as he was carried away.
"Greet the Danube for me" cried he, "when thou hast reached it;" then
turned his horse and galloped across the fields.