In an hour from that time the banqueting hall of the palace was prepared
for its guests. Silken couches had been drawn up around the table. Upon
it glittered a rich array of gold and silver. Between the dishes stood
flasks of rare wines. Upon the buffet near by were other wines cooling
in Apennine snow. Tall candelabras in worked and twisted bronze stood at
the ends and sides of the table, and stretched overhead their arms hung
with lamps. From the walls were suspended other lamps, lighting up the
tapestries and frescoes. At one end of the hall, richly scented spices
burned upon a tripod. With a readiness and celerity for which the Vanno
palace was famous, a feast fit for the emperor had been improvised in a
few minutes, and nothing was now wanting except the guests.
These now began to drop in one by one. The poet Emilius--the comedian
Bassus--the proconsul Sardesus--others of lesser note; but not one who
had not a claim to be present, by reason of intimate acquaintance or
else some peculiarly valuable trait of conviviality. In collecting
these, the armor bearer had made no mistake; and knowing his master's
tastes and intimates, he had made up the roll of guests as discreetly as
though their names had been given him. One he had met in the
street--others he had found at their homes. None to whom he gave the
invitation was backward in accepting it upon the spot, for there were
few places in Rome where equal festal gratification could be obtained.
To have been called to the house of Sergius Vanno and not to have gone
there, was to have lost a day to be forever regretted. None, therefore,
who had been spoken to, among that club of congenial spirits, was
absent. Of those who did not come, one was sick and two were at their
country villas. These, however, were lesser lights, valuable by
themselves, perhaps, but of no account in comparison with others who had
come; and therefore their absence was scarcely noticed.
Sergius stood at the door receiving his guests as each arrived. He had
arrayed himself in his most festive costume, and had evidently resolved
that whatever might happen on the morrow, that night at least should be
passed in forgetfulness and unbridled enjoyment. Even now his face was
flushed with the wine he had taken in anticipation, in the hope of
giving an artificial elation to his spirits. But it seemed as though for
that time the wine had lost its accustomed charm. Although at each
greeting he strove to wreathe his face in smiles, yet it was but a
feeble mask, and could not hide the more natural appearances of care and
gloom which rested upon his features; and while his voice seemed to
retain its old ring of joyous welcome, there was an undertone of sad
discordance. As the guests entered and exchanged greetings with their
host, each, after the first moment, looked askant at him, with the dim
perception that, in some way, he was not as he was wont to be; and so,
in a little while, they sank, one by one, into a troubled and
apprehensive silence. He, too, upon his part, looked furtively at them,
wondering whether they had yet heard the thing that had befallen him. It
was but a short time ago, indeed, and yet in how few minutes might the
unrestrained gossip of a slave have spread the ill tidings! For the
moment, Sergius recoiled from the difficult task of entertainment which
he had taken upon himself. Why, indeed, had he called these men around
him? How could he sit and pledge them in deep draughts, and all the time
suspect that each one knew his secret, and was laughing about it in his
sleeve? And if they knew it not, so much the worse, for then he must
tell the tale himself. Was it not partly for this purpose that he had
assembled them? Far better to speak of it himself--to let them see how
little he regarded the misfortune and the scandal--to treat it as a
brave jest--to give his own version of it--than to have the matter leak
out in the ordinary way, with all conceivable distortions and
exaggerations. But how, in fact, could he tell it? Was there one among
them who would not, while openly commiserating him, laugh at him in the
heart? Did there not now sit before him the lieutenant Plautus, who,
only a month before, had met with a like disgrace, and about whom he had
composed derisive verses? Would not the lieutenant Plautus now rejoice
to make retaliatory odes? Would it not b e better, then, after all, to
forbear any mention of the matter, and, letting its announcement take
the usual chance course, to devote this night, at least, to unbroken
festivity? But what if they already knew it?
Thus wandering in his mind from one debate to another, and ever, in a
moment, coming back to his original suspicion, he sat, essaying
complimentary speeches and convivial jests, and moodily gazing from face
to face, in a vain attempt to read their secret thoughts. He was wrong
in his suspicions. Not one of them knew the reason of the burden upon
his mind. All, however, perceived that something had occurred to disturb
him, and his moody spirit shed its influence around, until the
conversation once again flagged, and there was not one of the party who
did not wish himself elsewhere. The costliest viands and wines spread
out before them were ineffective to produce that festive gayety upon
which they had calculated.
'By Parnassus!' exclaimed the poet Emilius, at length, pushing aside his
plate of turbot, and draining his goblet 'Are we to sit here, hour after
hour, winking and blinking at each other like owls over their mice? Was
it merely to eat and drink that we have assembled? Hearken! I will read
that to you which will raise your spirits, to a certainty. To-morrow the
games and combats commence in the arena of the new amphitheatre. Well;
and is it known to you that I am appointed to read a dedicatory ode
before the emperor and in honor of that occasion? I will give you a
pleasure, now. I will forestall your joy, and let you hear what I have
written. And be assured that this is no small compliment to your
intelligence, since no eye hath yet looked upon a single verse thereof.'
With that the poet dragged from his breast his silken bundle, and
carefully began to unwind the covering.
'You will observe,' he said, as he brought the precious parchment to
light, and smoothed it out upon the table before him, 'you will observe
that I commence with an invocation to the emperor, whom I call the most
illustrious of all the Caesars, and liken to Jove. I then congratulate
the spectators, not only upon the joy of living in his time, but also
upon being there to bask in the effulgence of--'
'A truce to such mummery!' cried Sergius, suddenly arousing from his
spiritual stupor and bursting into a shrill laugh. 'Do we care to listen
to your miserable dactyls? Is it not a standing jest through Rome that,
for the past month, you have daily read your verses to one person after
another, with the same wretched pretence of exclusive favoritism? And do
we not know that no warrant has ever been given to you to recite a
single line before the emperor, either in or out of the arena? We are
here to revel, not to listen to your stale aphorisms upon death and
immortality. Ho, there, more wine! Take off these viands, which already
pall upon us! Bring wine-more wine!'
The guests were not slow to respond to the altered mood of their host;
for it was merely the reflection of his sullen gravity that had eclipsed
their own vivacity. The instant, therefore, that he led the way, the
hall began to resound with jest and laughter. The poet, with some
humiliation, which he endeavored to conceal beneath an affectation of
wounded dignity, commenced rolling up his manuscript, not before a
splash of wine from a carelessly filled flagon had soiled the
fair-written characters. More flasks were placed upon the table by ready
and obedient hands--and from that moment the real entertainment of the
evening commenced.
Faster than any of his guests, as though care could be the better
drowned by frequent libations, Sergius now filled and refilled his
flagon; and though the repeated draughts may not have brought
forgetfulness, yet, what was the nearest thing, they produced reckless
indifference. No longer should the cloud which he had thus suddenly
swept away from his brow be suffered to remain. Was he not master in his
own house? If woman deceives, was that a reason why man should mourn and
grow gray with melancholy? What though a random thought might at times
intrude, of one who, in the next room, with her head against the wall,
lay in a half stupor, listening to the ring of goblets and the loud
laugh and jest? Had she not brought it all upon herself? He would fill
up again, and think no more about it! And still, obedient to his
directing tone, the guests followed him with more and more unbridled
license, until the hall rang with merriment as it had never rung before.
Then, of course, came the throwing of dice, which, at that time, were as
essential a concomitant of a roystering party as, in later centuries,
cards became. Nor were these the least attraction of the feasts of
Sergius; for though the excellence of his viands and wines was
proverbial, the ease with which he could be despoiled at the gambling
table was not less so. Already he was known to have seriously crippled
his heritage by continued reverses, springing from united ill luck and
want of skill; but it was as well understood that much still remained.
And then, as now, the morality of gambling was of a most questionable
character--invited guests not thinking it discreditable to unite in any
combinations for the purpose of better pillaging their host. This seemed
now the general purpose; for, leaving each other in comparative freedom
from attack, they came forward one by one and pitted their purses, great
and small, against Sergius, who sat pouring down wine and shaking the
dicebox, while he called each by name, and contended against him. The
usual result followed; for, whether owing to secret signs among the
players, or to superior skill, the current of gold flowed but one way,
from the host to his guests. For a while he bore the continued ill luck
with undiminished gayety, deeming that in meeting their united prowess
he was doing a brave thing, and that, whatever befell him, he should
remember that in character of host, he must consent to suffer. But at
length he began to realize that his losses had been carried far enough.
He had never suffered so severely in any one evening before. Even his
duty to them as their host did not demand that he should completely ruin
himself, and he began to suspect that he had half done so already. With
a hoarse laugh he pushed the dice away, and arose.
'Enough--quite enough for one night,' he exclaimed. 'I have no more
gold, nor, if I had, could I dare to continue, with this ill run against
me. Perhaps after another campaign I may meet you again, and take my
revenge; which, if the Fates are just, must one day or another be
allotted me. But not now.'
He thought that he was firm in his refusal, but his guests had not yet
done with him. It needed but gentle violence to push him back again upon
his seat, and to replace the dicebox in his hand.
'Art weary, or afraid to continue?' said the praetorian captain. 'Well,
let there be one more main between us, and then we will end it all.
Listen! I have won this night two hundred sestertia. What is the worth
of that quarry of yours to the south of the Porta Triumphalis?'
'Three hundred sestertia--not less,' responded Sergius.
'Nay, as much as that?' rejoined the captain, carelessly throwing down
his own dice. 'Then it is useless to propose what I was about to. I had
thought that as the quarry had been well worked already, and was now
overrun with fugitive slaves and Nazarenes, and the like, to ferret out
whom would require half a legion, I could offer to put the two hundred
sestertia against it, so that you might chance to win them back. But it
is of little consequence.'
Sergius sat for the moment nervously drumming upon the table. He knew
that the other was purposely disparaging the property and trying to
tempt him into an equal stake; and yet he suffered himself to be
tempted. The luck might this time be with him. It were worth while to
try it, at least. If he lost, it would be but one more buffet of
fortune. And if he won, how easily would those two hundred sestertia
have been regained, and what a triumph over the one who had enticed him!
And therefore they threw--five times a piece; and after a moment of
breathless excitement, the play was decided in favor of the captain.
'The quarry is mine, therefore,' he said, endeavoring to assume a
nonchalant air of indifference. 'Would you still win it back, Sergius?
And the sesteria also? Well, there is that vineyard of yours on the
slope of Tivoli, which--'
'Stay!' exclaimed the proconsul Sardesus, who, of all the party had not
as yet touched the dicebox. 'Let this be enough. Will you plunder him
entirely? Have you no regard for my rights over him? Do you not know
that to-morrow, at the amphitheatre, Sergius and I are to match
gladiators against each other for a heavy wager, and that I expect to
win? How, then will I get this money, if you now strip him of all that
he owns?'
Probably the proconsul felt no fear about collecting what he might win,
and spoke jestingly, and with the sole intention of putting a stop to a
system of pillage which seemed to him already too flagrant and
unscrupulous. But his words were too plainly spoken not to give offence
at any time, more particularly now that all present were heated with
excitement; and the usual consequence of disinterested interference
ensued. The other guests in no measured language, began to mutter their
displeasure at the insinuations against themselves; while the host, for
whose benefit the interruption had been intended, resented it most
strongly of all. He needed no counsel, but was well able to take care of
himself, he intimated. And he remembered that he had entered into some
sort of a wager about the result of a gladiatorial combat, and he had
supposed that no one would have doubted his ability to pay all that he
might lose therein. It was proper, at least, to wait until there had
been some precedent of the kind proved against him. No one, so far, had
found him wanting. And the like.
'And yet,' he continued, as after a moment of reflection he began to
realise the value of the wager, and how inconvenient it would be to
lose, and that he had not yet succeeded in making any preparation for
the contest, 'when I tell you that I have not yet found a gladiator to
my mind, you will not force this match upon me to-morrow? You will
forbear that advantage, and will consent to postpone our trial to
another time?'
The proconsul shrugged his shoulders.
'Was it in the bond,' he said, 'that one should await the convenience of
the other? Has there not been time enough for each to procure his man?
This wager was made between us mouths ago, Sergius--before even you went
into the East.'
'And it was while I was there,' exclaimed Sergius eagerly, 'that I found
my man--a Rhodian, with the forehead, neck, and sinews of a bull. He
could have hugged a bull to death almost. Having him, I felt safe, for
who could you obtain to stand up against him? But in an evil hour, not
over a month ago, this play actor here--this Bassus--by a stupid trick
gained him from me. What, then, have I been able to do for myself since?
I have sought far and near to replace him, but without success; and had
made up my mind, if you would not postpone the trial, to pay up the
forfeit for not appearing, and think no more about it. But by the gods!
I will, even at this late hour, make one more attempt. Harkee, Bassus!
Whenever I have asked you about this Rhodian, you have said that you
have sold him; and, for some low reason, you have refused to tell who
owns him now. Tell me, now, to whom you sold him, so that I can purchase
him at once! Tell me, I say; or there will be blood between us!'
'What can he say,' interrupted the proconsul, 'but that he sold his
Rhodian to me, the day thereafter? You do well to praise him, Sergius.
Never have I seen such a creature of brawn and muscle. And with the
training I have given him, who, indeed, could overcome him? You will see
him to-morrow, in the arena. You will see how he will crush in the ribs
of your gladiator, like an egg shell.'
Sergius gave vent to a groan of mingled rage and despair.
'And you will not postpone this trial?' he said. 'Will you, then, take
up with an offer to play off that Rhodian against ten of my slaves? No?
Against twenty, then? What else will tempt you? Ah, you may think that I
have but little to offer to play against you, but it is not so. I have
no gold left, and my last quarry is gone. But I have my vineyards and
slaves in plenty. What say you, therefore?'
'Tush! Beseech him not!' interrupted Emilius, to whom the mention of
vineyards and slaves gave intimation of further spoils. 'Do you not see
that he shakes his head? And do you not know his obstinacy? You could
not move him now were you to pay him in full the amount of the forfeit.
It is not the gold that he longer cares for, but the chance to
distinguish himself by the exhibition of the slave of greatest strength
and prowess. So let that matter go for settled. Rather strive, in some
other manner, to win the money with which to pay your forfeit. This,
with good luck, you may do--a little here and a little there--who knows?
Perhaps even I can help you. Have I not won fifty sestertia from you? I
will now wager it back against a slave.'
'Against any slave?'
'By Bacchus, no! I have enough of ordinary captives to suit me, and care
but little for any accession to the rabble of them. But you have one
whom I covet--a Greek of fair appearance and pleasing manners--fit not
for the camp or the quarries, but of some value as a page or cupbearer.
It was but lately that I saw him, writing at your lady's dictation, and
I wished for him at once. Shall we play for him?'
'No! a thousand times, no!' exclaimed Sergius, striking the table so
heavily with his open hand that the dice danced and the flagons shook.
'Were you to offer me thrice his value--to pay off my forfeit to
Sardesus to the last sestertium--to gain me back my quarry and my
vineyards--all that I have lost--I would not give up that slave. My
purpose is sweeter to me than all the gold you could offer, and I will
not be cheated out of it. That slave dies to-morrow in the
amphitheatre--between the lion's jaws!'
'Dies? In the arena?' was the astonished exclamation.
'Is there aught wonderful in that?' Sergius fiercely cried. 'Have you
never before known such a thing as a master giving up his slave for the
public amusement? And let no man ask me why I do it. It may be that I
wish revenge, hating him too much to let him live. It may be that I seek
to be a benefactor like others, and furnish entertainment to the
populace at my own expense. It is sufficient that I choose it. Will not
any other slave answer, Emilius?'
'Nay, no other will do,' remarked the poet, throwing himself carelessly
back, with the air of one dismissing a fruitless subject from his mind.
'This was the only one whom I coveted. For any other I would not care to
shake the dicebox three times, though I might feel sure to win.'
'Will you offer the same to me, Sergius?' eagerly cried the comedian. 'I
also have won heavily from you. Will you play any other slave than this
page against fifty sestertia?'
For his only answer, Sergius seized the dice, and began impatiently to
rattle them. The eyes of Bassus sparkled with anticipated victory.
'You hear?' he cried, to all around him. 'Against my fifty sestertia he
will stake any of his slaves excepting this Greek page?'
'They all hear the terms,' retorted Sergius. 'Now throw!'
'Whether male or female?' continued Bassus, still looking around to see
that all understood.
'Are they fools? Can they not hear? Will you throw or not?' shouted
Sergius.
In a wild delirium of excitement, the comedian began the game, and in a
few minutes it was concluded. Then he leaped from his seat, crying out:
'I have won! And there can be no dispute now! You all heard that he gave
the choice of his slaves, whether male or female?'
'Fool!' sneered Sergius, throwing himself back. 'What dispute can there
be? Do you think that I would deny my word? And do you suppose I did not
know your aims, cunningly as you may think you veiled them? Would I have
given up Leta to you, if she had been of any further value to myself? By
the gods! had you waited a while, I do not know but what I would have
made her a present to you; not however, to oblige you, but to punish
her!'
The comedian listened in chopfallen amazement. Already it seemed to him
that his prize had lost half its value.
'Be at rest, though,' Sergius continued, in a contemptuous tone. 'I have
merely tired of her, that is all. Her eyes are as bright and her voice
as silvery as ever. She may not ever come to love you much, but she will
have the wit to pretend that she does; and if she makes you believe
her--as you doubtless will--it will be all the same thing to you. Who
knows, too, with what zeal she may worm herself into your affection,
under the guidance of her ambition? For, that she has ambition, you will
soon discover. By Bacchus! since you have no wife or household to fetter
your fancies, it would not surprise me were you to succumb to her wiles,
and to make of her your wife. You may recline there and smile with
incredulity; but such things have been done before this, and by men who
would not condescend to look upon one in your poor station. Yes, I will
wager that, in the end, you will make of her your wife. Well, it would
be no harm to you. She will then deceive you, of course; but what of
that? Have not better men submitted to that inevitable lot? Yes, she
will deceive you; and then will smile upon you, and you will believe her
word, and be again deceived. But you will have only yourself to blame
for it. I have warned you in advance.'