ON the southern shore of this tree-girdled water, opposite to the
little harbor, walled with marble, into which it ran at the northern
end, were high board platforms hung with gay costly stuffs, erected for
specially distinguished guests, who were numbered by hundreds; a
balcony draped with purple silk, extending far out into the sea, was
reserved for the most aristocratic spectators.
Now the soft moonlight resting on the mirrorlike surface of the lake
was suddenly outshone by a broad red glare, which lasted for several
minutes. As it died away, a blue, then a green light blazed up,
brilliantly illuminating the groups of spectators on the shore, the
white marble buildings in the distance, the statues among the
shrubbery, and especially the surface of the lake itself and the
magnificent spectacle it presented.
From the harbor, behind whose walls it had hitherto remained concealed,
glided a whole flotilla of boats, skiffs, vessels of every description:
ten, twenty, forty vessels, fantastically shaped, sometimes as
dolphins, sometimes as sharks, gigantic water birds, often as dragons,
the "banner-beast" of the Vandals. Masts, yards, sails, the lofty
pointed prow, as well as the broad stern, nay, even the upper part of
the oar handles, were wreathed, garlanded, twined with flowers, gay,
broad ribbons, even gold and silver fringes; magnificent rugs covered
the whole deck, which had been finished with costly woodwork; some of
them hung in the water at the stern and floated far, far behind the
ships.
On the deck of every vessel, at the mast or at the stern, picturesquely
posed on several steps Vandal men and youths. They were dressed in
striking costumes, often copied from various nations, and beside them
reclined young girls or beautiful boys. The fair or red locks of the
Vandals fell on the neck of many a brown-skinned maid, and mingled with
many black tresses.
Music echoed from every ship; busy slaves--white, yellow Moors,
negroes--poured out unmixed wine from beautifully formed jars with
handles. No matter how the vessels rocked, they bore the jars on their
heads without spilling the contents, and apparently with no great
exertion, often holding them with only one hand. So the dark fleet
glided over the redly illumined lake.
But suddenly the centre opened and out shot, apparently moving without
oars,--the slaves were concealed under the deck,--the great wedding
ship, far outshining all the others in fantastic, lavish splendor. It
was drawn seemingly only by eight powerful swans, fastened in pairs
with small gold chains attached to collars. These chains passed under
the wings of each pair, uniting them to the next. The magnificent
birds, which had been carefully trained for this purpose, heeded not
the uproar and light around them, but moved in calm majesty straight
toward the balcony at the southern end.
On the deck, piled a foot high with crimson roses, an open arbor of
natural vines had been arranged around the mast. In it lay the
bridegroom, a giant nearly seven feet tall, his shining mane of red
locks garlanded with vine leaves and--in violation of good taste--red
roses. A panther-skin was around the upper portion of his body, a
purple apron about his loins, a thyrsus staff in his huge but loosely
hanging right hand. Nestling to his broad, powerful breast reclined an
extremely delicate, fragile girl, scarcely beyond childhood, almost too
dainty of form. Her face could not be seen; the Roman bridal veil had
been fastened on the deserted Ariadne--very unsuitably. Besides, the
child seemed frightened by all the uproar, timidly hiding her face
under the panther-skin and on the giant's breast; true, she often with
a swift, upward glance tried to meet his eyes; but he did not see it.
A nude boy about twelve years old, with golden wings on his shoulders,
a bow and quiver fastened by a gold band across his back, was
constantly filling an enormous goblet for the bridegroom, who seemed to
think that his costume required him to drain it at once,--which
diverted his attention more than was desirable from his bride. On a
couch, somewhat above the bridal pair, a very beautiful girl about
eighteen lay in a picturesque attitude. Her noble head, with its golden
hair simply arranged in a Grecian knot, rested on the palm of her left
hand. Her Hellenic outlines and Hellenic statuesque repose rendered her
infinitely more noble and aristocratic than the Carthaginian Astarte.
Two tame doves perched on her right shoulder; she wore a robe of white
Coan gauze, which fell below the knee, but seemed intended to adorn
rather than to conceal her charms. The thin silken web was held around
the hips by an exquisitely wrought golden girdle half a foot wide, from
which hung a purple Ph[oe]nician apron weighted with gold tassels; on
her gold sandals were fastened "sea waves" made of stiff gray and white
silk, which extended to the delicate ankles of the "Foam-born," and at
the right and left of each one, the gleam of two large pearls was
visible at a great distance.
As the ship, drawn by the swans, now came into full view of all the
many thousands, the dazzling sight was greeted with deafening shouts.
As soon as the vessel emerged from the dim light into the radiant
glare, the Aphrodite hastily, desperately, tried to conceal herself;
finding a large piece of coarse sail-cloth lying near, she wrapped it
around her figure.
"How barbaric the whole thing is!" whispered, but very cautiously, one
Roman to another in the harsh throat tones of the African vulgar Latin,
as they stood together under the staging on the opposite side of the
harbor.
"I suppose that is intended to represent Bacchus, neighbor Laurus?"
"And Ariadne."
"I like the Aphrodite."
"Yes, I believe you, friend Victor. It is the beautiful Ionian, Glauke.
She was stolen from Miletus a short time ago by pirates. She is said to
be the child of prosperous parents. She was sold in the harbor forum to
Thrasabad, the bridegroom's brother. They say she cost as much as two
country estates!"
"She is gazing very mournfully, under her drooping lashes, into the
lake."
"Yet her buyer and master is said to treat her with the utmost
consideration, and fairly worships her."
"I can easily believe it. She is wonderfully beautiful,--solemnly
beautiful, I might say."
"But imagine this bear from Thule, this buffalo from the land of
Scythia, a Dionysus!"
"With those elephant bones!"
"With that fiery-red beard, two spans wide!"
"He probably wouldn't have that and the shaggy fleece on his head cut
off, if thereby he could become a god in reality."
"Yes, a Vandal noble! They think themselves greater than gods or
saints."
"Yet they were only cattle-thieves and land and sea robbers."
"Just look, he has buckled his broad German sword-belt over the vine
drapery about his loins."
"Perhaps for the sake of propriety," cried the other, laughing; "and
actually, Dionysus is wearing a Vandal short-sword."
"The Barbarian seems to be ashamed of being a naked god."
"Then he has not yet lost _all_ shame!" exclaimed a man who had also
understood the cautious whisper, striding rapidly on. "Come,
Theudigisel!"
"Did you understand that? It was the man with the spear. It did not
sound like the Vandal tongue."
"Yes, exactly like it. That's the way they speak in Spain! I heard it
in Hispalis."
"Hark, what a roaring on the ships!"
"That must be a hymenaeus, Victor! The bridegroom's brother composed it.
The Barbarians now write Latin and Greek verses. But they are of their
stamp."
"Yes, listen, Lauras," cried the other, laughing; "you are prejudiced,
as a rival! Since you failed in your leather business, you have lived
by writing, O friend! Weddings, baptisms, funerals, it was all the same
to you. You have even sung the praises of the Vandal victories over the
Moors, and--the Lord have mercy on us!--'the brave sword of King
Hilderic.' Yes, you wrote for the Barbarians even more willingly and
frequently than for us Romans."
"Of course. The Barbarians know less, require less, and pay better. For
the same reason, friend Victor, you too must wish, for the sake of your
wine-shop, that the Vandals may remain rulers of Carthage."
"How so?"
"Why, the Barbarians know as little about good wine as they do about
good verses."
"Only half hit. They probably have a tolerably fair judgment of it. But
they are always so thirsty that they will enjoy and pay for sour wine
too--like your sour verses. Woe betide us when we no longer have the
stupid Barbarians for customers! We should be obliged, in our old age,
to furnish better wine and better poetry."
"The ships will soon be here! We can see everything distinctly now.
Look at the bridegroom's enormous goblet; the little Cupid can scarcely
hold it; it seems familiar to me."
"Why, of course. That's surely the immense shell from the Fountain of
Neptune in the Forum,--larger than a child's head!"
"Yes, it has been missing for several days. Oh, the Germans would drain
the ocean if it were full of wine."
"And just see the hundred weight of gold which they have hung on poor
Aphrodite."
"All stolen, plundered Roman property. She can hardly move under the
weight of her jewels."
"Modesty, Victor, modesty! She has not much clothing except her
jewels."
"It's not the poor girl's fault apparently. That insolent Cupid just
snatched off the sailcloth and flung it into the sea. See how confused
she is, how she tries to find some drapery. She is beseeching the
bride, pointing to the large white silk coverlet at her feet."
"Little Ariadne is nodding; she has picked it up; now she is throwing
it over Aphrodite's shoulders. How grateful she looks!"
"They are landing. I pity the poor bride. Disgrace and shame! She is
the child of a freeborn Roman citizen, though of Greek origin. And the
father--"
"Where is Eugenes? I do not see him on the bridal ship."
"He is probably ashamed to show himself at the sacrifice of his child.
He went to Utica with his Sicilian guest on business long before the
marriage, and after his return he will go with the Syracusan to Sicily.
It is really like the ancient sacrifice of the maidens which the
Athenians were obliged to offer to the Minotaur. He gives up Eugenia,
the daintiest jewel of Carthage."
"But they say she wanted to marry him; she loved the red giant. And he
is not ugly; he is really handsome."
"He is a Barbarian. Curses on the Bar--oh, pardon me, my most gracious
lord! May Saint Cyprian grant you a long life!"
He had hastily thrown himself on his knees before a half-drunken
Vandal, who had nearly fallen over him, and without heeding the Roman's
existence had already forced his way far to the front.
"Why, Laurus! The Barbarian surely ran against you, not you against
him?" said Victor, helping his countryman to his feet again.
"No matter! Our masters are quick to lay their hands on the
short-sword! May Orcus swallow the whole brood!"