THE AMBASSADORS.
Give first admittance to th’ ambassadors.
HAMLET.
It wanted a short time of noon, on a fine bracing day in the latter end of
November.
Something more than a fortnight had elapsed since the flight of Catiline;
and, as no further discoveries had been made, nor any tumults or
disturbances arisen in the city, men had returned to their former
avocations, and had for the most part forgotten already the circumstances,
which had a little while before convulsed the public mind with fear or
favor.
No certain tidings had been received, or, if received, divulged to the
people, of Catiline’s proceedings; it being only known that he had tarried
for a few days at the country-house of Caius Flaminius Flamma, near to
Arretium, where he was believed to be amusing himself with boar-hunting.
On the other hand, the letters of justification, and complaint against
Cicero, had been shewn to their friends by all those who had received
them, all men of character and weight; and their contents had thus gained
great publicity.
The consequence of this was, naturally enough, that the friends and
favorers of the conspiracy, acting with singular wisdom and foresight,
studiously affected the utmost moderation and humility of bearing, while
complaining every where of the injustice done to Catiline, and of the
false suspicions maliciously cast on many estimable individuals, by the
low-born and ambitious person who was temporarily at the head of the
state.
The friends of Cicero and the republic, on the contrary, lay on their
oars, in breathless expectation of some new occurrence, which should
confirm the public mind, and approve their own conduct; well aware that
much time could not elapse before Catiline would be heard of at the head
of an army.
In the meantime, the city wore its wonted aspect; men bought and sold, and
toiled or sported; and women smiled and sighed, flaunted and wantoned in
the streets, as if, a few short days before, they had not been wringing
their hands in terror, dissolved in tears, and speechless from dismay.
It was a market day, and the forum was crowded almost to overflowing. The
country people had flocked in, as usual, to sell the produce of their
farms; and their wagons stood here and there laden with seasonable fruits,
cheeses, and jars of wine, pigeons in wicker cages, fresh herbs, and such
like articles of traffic. Many had brought their wives, sun-burned,
black-haired and black-eyed, from their villas in the Latin or Sabine
country, to purchase city luxuries. Many had come to have their lawsuits
decided; many to crave justice against their superiors from the Tribunes
of the people; many to get their wills registered, to pay or borrow money,
and to transact that sort of business, for which the day was set aside.
Nor were the townsmen absent from the gay scene; for to them the
_nundinæ_, or market days, were holydays, in which the courts of law were
shut, and the offices closed to them, at least, although open to the rural
citizens, for the despatch of business.
The members of the city tribes crowded therefore to the forum many of
these too accompanied by their women, to buy provisions, to ask for news
from the country, and to stare at the uncouth and sturdy forms of the
farmers, or admire the black eyes and merry faces of the country lasses.
It was a lively and gay scene; the bankers’ shops, distinguished by the
golden shields of the Samnites, suspended from the lintels of their doors,
were thronged with money-changers, and alive with the hum of traffic.
Ever and anon some curule magistrate, in his fringed toga, with his
lictors, in number proportioned to his rank, would come sweeping through
the dense crowd; or some plebeian officer, with his ushers and beadles;
or, before whom the ranks of the multitude would open of their own accord
and bow reverentially, some white-stoled vestal virgin, with her fair
features closely veiled from profane eyes, the sacred fillets on her head,
and her lictor following her dainty step with his shouldered fasces.
Street musicians there were also, and shows of various kinds, about which
the lower orders of the people collected eagerly; and, here and there,
among the white stoles and gayly colored shawls of the matrons and
maidens, might be seen the flowered togas and showy head-dresses of those
unfortunate girls, many of them rare specimens of female beauty, whose
character precluded them from wearing the attire of their own sex.
"Ha! Fabius Sanga, whither thou in such haste through the crowd?" cried a
fine manly voice, to a patrician of middle age who was forcing his way
hurriedly among the jostling mob, near to the steps of the Comitium, or
building appropriated to the reception of ambassadors.
The person thus addressed turned his head quickly, though without
slackening his speed.
"Ah! is it thou, Arvina? Come with me, thou art young and strong; give me
thy arm, and help me through this concourse."
"Willingly," replied the young man. "But why are you in such haste?" he
continued, as he joined him; "you can have no business here to-day."
"Aye! but I have, my Paullus. I am the patron to these Gallic ambassadors,
who have come hither to crave relief from the Senate for their people.
They must receive their answer in the Comitium to-day; and I fear me much,
I am late."
"Ah! by the Gods! I saw them on that day they entered the city. Right
stout and martial barbarians! What is their plea? will they succeed?"
"I fear not," answered Sanga, "They are too poor. Senatorial relief must
be bought nowadays. The longest purse is the most righteous cause! Their
case is a hard one, too. Their nation is oppressed with debt, both private
and public; they have been faithful allies to the state, and served it
well in war, and now seek remission of some grievous tributes. But what
shall we say? They are poor—barbarians—their aid not needed now by the
republic—and, as you know, my Paullus, justice is sold now in Rome, like
silk, for its weight in gold!"
"The more shame!" answered Paullus. "It was not by such practices, that
our fathers built up this grand edifice of the republic."
"Riches have done it, Paullus! Riches and Commerce! While we had many
tillers of the ground, and few merchants, we were brave in the field, and
just at home!"
"Think you, then, that the spirit of commerce is averse to justice, and
bravery, and freedom?"
"No, I do not think it, Arvina, I know it!" answered Fabius Sanga, who,
with the truth and candor of a patrician of Rome’s olden school,
possessed, and that justly, much repute for wisdom and foresight. "All
mercantile communities are base communities. Look at Tyre, in old times!
Look at Carthage, in our grandfathers’ days! at Corinth in our own!
Merchants are never patriots! and rich men seldom; unless they be
landholders! But see, see, there are my clients, descending the steps of
the Comitium! By all the Gods! I am too late! their audience is ended!
Now, by Themis, the goddess of justice! will they deem me also venal!"
As he spoke, they had come to the foot of the grand flight of marble
steps, leading up to the doors of the Græcostasis, or comitium; or rather
had come as near to the foot, as the immense concourse, which had gathered
about that spot to stare at the wild figures and foreign gait of the
ambassadors, would allow them to approach.
"It is in vain to press forward yet, my Sanga. A moment or two, and these
clowns will be satisfied with gazing; yet, by Hercules! I cannot blame
them. For these Highlanders are wondrous muscular and stout warriors to
look upon, and their garb, although somewhat savage, is very martial and
striking."
And, in truth, their Celtic bonnets, with their long single eagle
feathers, set somewhat obliquely on their abundant auburn hair; their
saffron-colored shirts, tight-fitting trews of tartan plaid, and
variegated mantles floating over their brawny shoulders, their chains and
bracelets of gold and silver, their long daggers in their girdles, and
their tremendous broad-swords swinging at their thighs, did present a
strange contrast to the simple tunics of white woollen, and plain togas of
the same material, which constituted the attire of nine-tenths of the
spectators.
"I must—must get nearer!" replied Sanga, anxiously; "I must speak with
them! I can see by the moody brows, and sullen looks of the elder nobles,
and by the compressed lips and fiery glances of the young warriors, that
matters have gone amiss with them. I shall be blamed, I know, for it—but I
have failed in my duty as their patron, and must bear it. There will be
mischief; I pray you let us pass, my friends," he continued, addressing
the people, "I am the patron of their nation; let us pass."
But it was in vain that they besought and strove; the pressure of the mob
was, if anything, augmented; and Paullus was compelled to remain
motionless with his companion, hoping that the Allobroges would move in
their direction.
But, while they were thus waiting, a thin keen-looking man pressed up to
the ambassadors, from the farther side, while they were yet upon the
steps, and saluting them cordially, pressed their hands, as if he were an
old and familiar friend.
Nor did the Highlanders appear less glad to see him, for they shook his
hand warmly, and spoke to him with vehement words, and sparkling eyes.
"Who is that man, who greets our Allobroges so warmly?" asked Arvina of
his companion. "Know you the man?"
"I know him!" answered Sanga, watching the gestures which accompanied
their conversation with an eager eye, although too far off to hear
anything that was passing. "It is one of these traders, of whom we spoke
but now; and as pestilent a knave and rogue as ever sold goods by short
measure, and paid his purchases in light coin! Publius Umbrenus is the
man. A Gallic trader. He hath become rich by the business he hath carried
on with this same tribe, bartering Roman wares, goldsmith’s work,
trinkets, cutlery, wines, and the like, against their furs and hides, and
above all against their amber. He gains three hundred fold by every
barter, and yet, by the God of Faith! he brings them in his debt after
all; and yet the simple-minded, credulous Barbarians, believe him their
best friend. I would buy it at no small price, to know what he saith to
them. See! he points to the Comitium. By your head, Paullus! he is
poisoning their minds against the Senate!"
"See!" said Arvina. "They descend the steps in the other direction. He is
leading them away with him some-whither."
"To no good end!" said Sanga emphatically; and then smiting his breast
with his hand, he continued, evidently much afflicted, "My poor clients!
my poor simple Highlanders! He will mislead them to their ruin?"
"They are going toward Vesta’s temple," said Arvina. "If we should turn
back through the arch of Fabius, and so enter into the western branch of
the Sacred Way, we might overtake them near the Ruminal Fig-tree."
"_You_ might, for you are young and active. But I am growing old, Paullus,
and the gout afflicts my feet, and makes me slower than my years. Will you
do so, and mark whither he leads them; and come back, and tell me? You
shall find me in Natta’s, the bookseller’s shop, at the corner of the
street Argiletum."
"Willingly, Sanga," answered the young man. "The rather, if it may profit
these poor Gauls anything."
"Thou art a good youth, Paullus. The Gods reward it to thee. Remember
Natta’s book-shop."
"Doubt me not," said Arvina; and he set off at a pace so rapid, as brought
him up with those, whom he was pursuing, within ten minutes.
The ambassadors, six or eight in number, among whom the old white-headed
chief he had observed—when he went with Hortensia and his betrothed, to
see their ingress into Rome—together with the young warrior whose haughty
bearing he had noticed on that occasion, were most eminent, had been
joined by another Roman beside Umbrenus.
Him, Paullus recognised at once, for Titus Volturcius, a native and
nobleman of Crotona, a Greek city, on the Gulf of Tarentum, although a
citizen of Rome.
He was a man of evil repute, as a wild debauchee, a gambler, and seducer;
and Arvina had observed him more than once in company with Cornelius
Lentulus.
This led him to suspect, that Sanga was perhaps more accurate in his
suspicions, than he himself imagined; and that something might be in
progress here, against the republic.
He watched them warily, therefore; and soon found an ample confirmation of
the worst he imagined, in seeing them enter the house of Decius Brutus,
the husband of the beautiful, but infamous Sempronia.
It must not be supposed, that the privity of these various individuals to
the conspiracy, was accurately known to young Arvina; but he was well
aware, that Lentulus and Catiline were sworn friends; and that Sempronia
was the very queen of those abandoned and licentious ladies, who were the
instigators and rewarders of the young nobles, in their profligacy and
their crimes; it did not require, therefore, any wondrous degree of
foresight, to see that something dangerous was probably brewing, in this
amalgamation of ingredients so incongruous, as Roman nobles and patrician
harlots, with wild barbarians from the Gallic highlands.
Without tarrying, therefore, longer than to ascertain that he was not
mistaken in the house, he hurried back to meet Sanga, at the appointed
place, promising himself that not Sanga only, but Cicero himself, should
be made acquainted with that which he had discovered so opportunely.
The Argiletum was a street leading down from the vegetable mart, which lay
just beyond the _Porta Fluminiana_, or river gate, to the banks of the
Tiber, at the quays called _pulchrum littus_, or the beautiful shore; it
was therefore a convenient place of meeting for persons who had parted
company in the forum, particularly when going in that direction, which had
been taken by Umbrenus and the Ambassadors.
Hastening onward to the street appointed—which was for the most part
inhabited by booksellers, copyists, and embellishers of illuminated
manuscripts, beside a few tailors—he was hailed, just as he reached the
river gate, by a well-known voice, from a cross street; and turning round
he felt his hand warmly grasped, by an old friend, Aristius Fuscus, one of
the noble youths, with whom he had striven, in the Campus Martius, on that
eventful day, when he first visited the house of Catiline.
"Hail! Paullus," exclaimed the new comer, "I have not seen you in many
days. Where have you been, since you beat us all in the quinquertium?"
"Absent from town, on business of the state, part of the time, my Fuscus,"
answered Arvina, shaking his friend’s hand gayly. "I was sent to Præneste,
with my troop of horse, before the calends of November; and returned not
until the Ides."
"And since that, I fancy"—replied the other laughing, "You have been
sunning yourself in the bright smiles of the fair Julia. I thought you
were to have led her home, as your bride, ere this time."
"You are wrong for once, good friend," said Paullus, with a well-pleased
smile. "Julia is absent from the city also. She and Hortensia are on a
visit to their farm, at the foot of Mount Algidus. I have not seen them,
since my return from Præneste."
"Your slaves, I trow, know every mile-stone by this time, on the via
Labicana! Do you write to her daily?"
"Not so, indeed, Aristius;" he replied. "We are too long betrothed, and
too confident, each in the good faith of the other, to think it needful to
kill my poor slaves in bearing amatory billets."
"You are wise, Paullus, as you are true, and will, I hope, be happy
lovers!"
"The Gods grant it!" replied Paullus.
"Do they return shortly? It is long since I have visited Hortensia. She
would do justly to refuse me admittance when next I go to salute her."
"Not until after the next market day. But here I must leave you; I am
going to Natta’s shop, in the Argiletum."
"To purchase books? Ha! or to the tailor’s? the last, I presume, gay
bridegroom—there are, you know, two Nattas."
"Natta, the bookseller, is my man. But I go thither, not as a buyer, but
to meet a friend, Fabius Sanga."
"A very wise and virtuous Roman," replied the other, stopping at the
corner of the street Argiletum, "but tarry a moment; when shall we meet
again? I am going down to the hippodrome, can you not join me there, when
you have finished your business with Sanga?"
"I can; gladly." answered Arvina.
As they stopped, previous to separating, a young man, who had been walking
for some distance close at their heels, passed them, nodding as he did so,
to Arvina, who returned his salutation, very distantly.
"Aulus Fulvius!" said Aristius, as Paullus bowed to him, "as bad a
specimen of a young patrician, as one might see for many days, even if he
searched for rascals, as the philosopher did for an honest man, by
lanthorn’s light at noon. He has been following our steps, by my head!—to
pick up our stray words, and weave them into calumnies, and villainy."
"I care not," answered Arvina, lightly. "He may make all he can of what he
heard, we were talking no treason!"
"No, truly; not even lover’s treason," said his friend. "Well, do not
tarry long, Arvina."
"I will not; be assured. Not the fourth part of an hour. See! there is
Fabius Sanga awaiting me even now. Walk slowly, and I will overtake you,
before you reach the Campus."
And with the word, he turned down the Argiletum, and joined the patron of
the Allobroges, at the bookseller’s door.
In the meantime Aulus Fulvius, who had heard all that he desired, wheeled
about, and walked back toward the Carmental gate. But, as he passed the
head of the Argiletum, he cast a lurid glance of singular malignity upon
Arvina, who was standing in full view, conversing with his friend; and
muttered between his teeth,
"The fool! the hypocrite! the pedant! well said, wise Catiline, ’that it
matters not much whether one listen to his friends, so he listen well to
his enemies!’ The fool—so he thinks he shall have Julia. But he never
shall, by Hades! never!"
A slenderly made boy, dressed in a succinct huntsman’s tunic, with
_subligacula_, or drawers, reaching to within a hand’s breadth of his
knee, was loitering near the corner, gazing wistfully on Arvina; and, as
Aulus muttered those words half aloud, he jerked his head sharply around,
and looked very keenly at the speaker.
"Never shall have Julia!" he repeated to himself, "he must have spoken
that concerning Arvina. I wonder who he is. I never saw him before. I must
know—I must know, forthwith! For he _shall_ have her, by heaven and Him,
who dwells in it! he _shall_ have her!"
And, turning a lingering and languid look toward Paullus, the slight boy
darted away in pursuit of Aulus.
A moment afterward Arvina, his conference with Sanga ended, and ignorant
of all that by-play, took the road leading to the Campus, eager to
overtake his friend Aristius.