CHAPTER VII.

Lycoris, the fair Gaul, was giving a splendid entertainment. Valerius

Martialis, the greatest wit of the city of the Seven Hills, had

recited his newest and most poignant epigrams with loud applause, and

the company--more than a hundred persons--were reclining at supper

on cushioned divans in the lavishly-decorated eating-room. The young

Massilian lady presided. With her neck and shoulders half-veiled in

transparent gauze[153] from Cos, her magnificent golden-yellow hair

knotted up at the back of her head and wreathed simply with ivy, she

smiled radiantly from the head of the table, the object of silent

worship to many, and of eager admiration to all. A number of slaves,

in handsome Alexandrian dresses, moved quickly and silently about the

handsome hall, while across the supper table the conversation each

instant grew more lively.

Among the guests was Caius Aurelius, the young Batavian. He had yielded

to the pressure of curiosity or of fashion--particularly when the name

of the famous epigrammatist had weighed down the scale.

“Really,” he was saying to his neighbor Norbanus--the commandant of

the Praetorian guard--“really, Norbanus, till this hour I had esteemed

myself rich, but here I feel by comparison a beggar. What splendor,

what lavish outlay! Pillars of alabaster, enormous gold plates,[154]

carpets worth an estate--my senses reel. Everything which elsewhere

would appear rare and choice is here in every day use. By Hermes! but

the father of Lycoris must have been a favorite of fortune.”

“Not so loud!” interrupted Lucius Norbanus. “See, Stephanus is looking

this way with a meaning glance.”

“Stephanus![155] The Empress’s steward? What has he to do with Lycoris?”

“Ha! well, I will tell you that another time,” said the officer filling

his mouth with a fine oyster,[156] “between ourselves, you know.

Meanwhile, I strongly advise you to taste those delicious mollusks. If

you are like me, laughing has made you ferociously hungry.”

“You certainly laughed most heartily,” replied Aurelius accepting some

of the praised dish from a slave; “but I, for my part, cannot get up

any taste for this kind of verse. Martial is full of wit and humor,

but this perpetual mockery, this making a business of holding up all

society to ridicule and contempt--no, my dear Norbanus, I cannot

like it. More particularly does the way in which he speaks of women

displease and vex me. If he is to be believed, there is not in all Rome

one faithful wife, or one innocent girl.”[157]

“Pah!” said Norbanus, with his mouth well filled: “There are some of

course, but they are scarce, my dear Aurelius, remarkably scarce.”

“What is amusing you so much, Norbanus?” asked Quintus from his place

opposite.

“The old theme--women! Aurelius thinks, that our laurel-wreathed

poet has sinned basely against the ladies of Rome, by hinting in his

epigrams his doubts of their virtue.”

“Who? What?” cried the poet himself, hastily looking round. “What

Ravidus[158] is here, to take up the cudgels against my iambics?”

This quotation from Catullus, the favorite poet and model of the

epigrammatist, did not fail of its point, for every one, with the

single exception of the blushing Aurelius, was reminded by it that

Ravidus was, in that passage, called a “crazed and witless wretch.”

“It was I,” said Aurelius coolly. “But it was not your verse that I

criticised, but ... however, you heard. If a woman is no more to you

than the beetle, the snake that wriggles in the dust, I can but pity

your experience.”

“Yours then has been more fortunate?” laughed Martial.

“I should hope so, indeed!”

Lycoris, who, though at some distance, must have heard every word,

was chatting vehemently with Stephanus, her neighbor on her left, who

kept his gaze alert, though with an air of reserve and dignity. Two

of her companions, pretty but by no means maidenly personages, stared

contemptuously at Aurelius as if to say: “Well, what a booby!”

“Here is to your health, worthy Cato of the North!” cried Martial

mockingly. “Reveal his name to me, O Muse! and I will dedicate to you

five and twenty epigrams on his virtue.”

“He has a sharp muzzle,” muttered Norbanus to Aurelius. “You will get

the worst of it.”

“No doubt of that,” said Aurelius. “Fencing with words was never my

strong ground.”

“Just my case; and I cannot stand his accursed ribaldry. These fellows

are like eels, it is impossible to hold them. It is the city tone, my

dear friend! Our Stephanus now--only see how the man is made up--now,

full in the light. By Castor! he is touched up and painted like a

wench--Stephanus again, is a master in the war of words. But he gives

you a pebble for a gem; everything about him is false, even his hair.

But beware of him; he will try to make mince-meat of you.”

“I say, Martial,” said a harsh voice: “Who is going to publish the

epigrams you gave us to-day?”

“I do not yet know. Possibly Tryphon.”[159]

“And when, my friend?”

“Well, in the course of the month.”

“So soon? Listen, when the book comes out, may I send to you to borrow

a copy?”

“You are too kind, my dear Lupercus; but why should you give yourself

and a slave so much trouble? I live quite high up on the Quirinal.[160]

You can get what you want much nearer to you. You pass every day by

the Argiletum. There you will find a very interesting shop, exactly

opposite the Forum of Caesar. Atrectus, the bookseller, will feel

himself honored in selecting a beautiful copy for you--almost given

away too, as I may say, for with purple letters and smoothly pumiced it

costs but five or six denarii.”[161]

“Six denarii!” exclaimed Lupercus. “That is too dear for me. I have to

be saving with my money.”

“And I must be saving with my books.”

“It is not every one, who knows how to be obliging!”

“Nay, do not give up all hope,” retorted the epigrammatist scornfully.

“Make your wants known at all the street-corners,[162] and perhaps some

costermonger[163] will lend you a copy.”

“Why is Martial so hard upon him?” asked Aurelius of the praetorian

guardsman. “This Lupercus seems to be in narrow circumstances.”

“Ha, ha!” laughed Norbanus. “With an income of two hundred thousand

sesterces....”

“Impossible! how can a man be at once so rich and so mean?”

“You are in Rome, Aurelius--do not forget that you are in Rome. Here

extremes meet; here everything is possible, even the impossible.”

It was now growing dusk, and in a few minutes hundreds of costly bronze

lamps were lighted, some hanging in candelabra from the ceiling, some

elegantly arranged round the pilasters and columns. Indeed it was not

till this moment, that the banquet really assumed the aspect intended

by the artistic and extravagant imagination of the hostess. The

beaten silver of the massive bowls[164] and platters gleamed brightly

under the wreaths of flowers and garlands of foliage, while the huge

wine-jars and costly Murrhine vases,[165] the jovial and purpled faces

of the guests, the splendid dresses, the pearls and gems--all were

doubly effective under the artificial light.

One costly delicacy was followed by another; all the productions of

the remotest ends of the earth met at the banquet of Lycoris. Fish

from the Atlantic ocean, Muraenae from Lake Lucrinus, Guinea-fowls

from Numidia,[166] young kids from the province of Thesprotis[167]

in Epirus, pheasants from the Caspian Sea,[168] Egyptian dates,[169]

dainty cakes[170] from Picenum, figs from Chios,[171] pistachio

nuts[172] from Palestine--were all here of the choicest quality and

elaborately prepared. Euphemus,[173] Caesar’s own head-cook, could

have done no more. Nor could anything be more perfect, than the grace

with which the handsomely-dressed slaves offered each dainty on long

slices of bread. After each dish had gone round, little boys with wings

brought in magnificent onyx jars filled with perfumed water, which they

poured over the hands of the guests. The long flowing hair of a female

slave[174] served to dry them, in the place of the more usual linen or

asbestos napkin. In such trifles as these Lycoris loved to be original.

During the meal an intermezzo had now and then interrupted the eager

conversation. Black-haired girls from Gades and Hispalis[175] had

come in, dancing to the cadence of castanets[176] and cymbals;

flute-players, singers and reciters had given highly-applauded evidence

of their talents. But now, when the business of eating was over and the

_commissatio_, as it was called, the drinking in short, was about to

begin, as was hinted by the distribution to the guests of fresh wreaths

and of perfumed oils, a buffoon or jester[177] made his appearance,

and soon filled the hall with Homeric laughter. His small and muscular

form was clothed in gaily-colored scraps of raiment, and his face was

painted in strong colors. Entering the room with a hop, skip and jump,

he performed a series of somersaults with great skill; then leaping

high over the guests’ heads, actually on to the table, he placed

himself in front of Lycoris and began thus in a high, shrill voice:

“Highly-esteemed friends of this illustrious house, now that your

empty stomachs are duly replenished your minds too are to be no less

delightfully satisfied. I offer you the feast of self-knowledge; to

each one of you here I will shortly and plainly tell your fortune. If

I appear to you over-bold, attribute it to the functions of my office;

for audacity is my vocation, as it is that of the most honored Martial.”

A storm of applause rang through the banqueting-hall, and Martial

himself even laughed heartily.

“Capital, capital!” he exclaimed to the little man. “Your beginning is

admirable and promises much,” and he stroked his grizzled beard with

much complacency; the jester bowed and went on with his privileged

impertinences. He flung some epigrammatic and pointed remark at one

and another of the company, and was each time rewarded by more or less

eager applause. When he came round to the young provincial, he grinned

with vicious impudence.

“Oh, noble vestal virgin!” he exclaimed, holding his hand before his

face in affected coyness. “How much a hundred weight does propriety

cost in Trajectum?”

His former jests had been happier and more pointed, but not one had

been so readily taken; the company laughed so immoderately, that the

buffoon had some difficulty in making himself heard again. Aurelius,

though he was disgusted with the fellow, had discretion and tact enough

not to draw attention to himself; he laughed and applauded as heartily

as any one. Not so, however, Herodianus, his freedman, who reclined

at the lower end of the table and had given himself up to silent and

unlimited enjoyment of the Caecubum.

“What, you foul-mouthed scoundrel!” he exclaimed in a voice of thunder.

“Who are you scoffing at? My dear friend Aurelius compared to a woman!

Go home, and let your mother teach you manners.”

The company were in so jovial a mood, that they at once turned this

interference into account. When the Batavian was about to reprove

Herodianus, he was talked down, while the indignant freedman was

spurred on by half-ironical appeals and challenges.

“Let him alone,” said the captain of the guard: “He will serve the

jester’s turn well enough.”

“Aye, that he will!” exclaimed another. “Only look at him knitting his

brows. Is not he just like the Silenus in Stephanus’ dining-hall?”

“Just be so good as to hold your tongues,” cried Quintus, who had been

excessively amused by Herodianus’ pugnacity. “The little man on the

table is going to answer him.”

“Silence for the jester!” shouted a chorus.

The buffoon stood still with his hand up to his ear.

“Did I not hear a pug-dog barking?” he said with inimitable comic

gravity. “Yes, there he lies, a Maltese pug! Come, Lailaps, come! Here

are Lucanian sausages!”

Looking impartially at the freedman’s face, it was impossible to deny

that the resemblance was well hit, but Herodianus could hardly be

expected to take this unprejudiced view of the matter. Forgetting where

and with whom he was, he sprang from his couch, struck his fist on the

table, and shouted out, crimson with rage:

“Come on, you braggart, if you dare! I will teach you, I will show you

that ... that.... By Hercules! if you do not jump down this minute, you

are the most cowardly, contemptible toad under the sun.”

The little man sprang like lightning over Stephanus’ head on to the

floor, turned up the sleeves of his particolored shirt and shouted in

mockery:

“Come on, Lailaps, come on! I will give you a thrashing.”

For a moment Herodianus seemed to hesitate; then he suddenly flew at

the jester like the storm of wind suggested by his Greek dog-name.

The jester, however, slipped on one side as quick as lightning, and

Herodianus, who, indeed, was not very steady on his feet, fell at

full-length on the floor. In an instant the buffoon was sitting astride

on his back.

“Pug, you are snappish!” he exclaimed in a triumphant tone, and he

began vigorously to belabor every part of the hapless freedman, that he

could reach with his powerful fists.

“The dog must be broken!” he exclaimed at each blow. “Quiet, Lailaps,

down, my noble cur!”

Herodianus, who, besides, had in falling damaged his knees and elbows,

roared like one possessed; in vain did he try to throw off his

tormentor. The dwarf clung to him tightly with his legs. The whole

scene was as irresistibly comical as though it had been planned for the

delectation of a blasé and overwrought party of drinkers. But Aurelius

could no longer contain himself; he rose and went up to the combatants

with well-assumed coolness.

“You are going too far,” he said. “Be off with you, you little rascal.”

The jester paying no heed to these orders, found himself suddenly

picked up by the girdle and with one effort lifted high into the air.

His struggles and yells were of no avail; Aurelius carried him like

a feather to the table, and there set him down among the cups and

wine-jars. The strength and promptness of the proceeding diverted it

of any vexatious interference; the dwarf, completely quelled, stood

on the table like a stork that has had its wings cut, looking round

half-frightened and half-angry. The young Northman’s grip had fairly

taken his breath away, and a sign from Lycoris that he might withdraw

was evidently welcome to him. He vanished between the crowd of slaves

like a startled deer.

Aurelius had hastened to the rescue of Herodianus, who now, having

been helped on his feet by some of the servants, found the greatest

difficulty in keeping on them.

“Poor fellow!” he said kindly. “But you are really quite incorrigible.”

“Oh, my lord!” groaned Herodianus, “it was only on account of the

Vestal virgin! I should not have cared about being called a pug! Oh ye

gods! my knees.”

“I will take you in my litter. My own head aches, till it might split.”

“What! are you going?” said Quintus Claudius, coming up to him. “Do

you not know that Lycoris has planned a magnificent surprise for her

guests?”

“I know it, but I must beg to be excused. These sports are not to my

taste. Farewell till we meet again.”

So speaking, he beckoned his Gothic slave, who took the limping

freedman round the body and held him up with his usual strength of

arm. The pair went first, and Aurelius followed them. All the company

had by this time left their places, so his disappearance was almost

unremarked; but the fair hostess kept her eye fixed on him, till

she lost sight of her ungracious guest in the throng. Then, with an

insidious smile, she turned to Quintus, laid her hand on his shoulder,

and whispered maliciously: “What sort of foolish philosopher is that

who comes here, of all places, to plead the cause of women and take up

the cudgels for a freedman?”

“Your foolish philosopher,” replied Quintus, “is one of the noblest

souls I ever knew, and beyond a doubt, the very noblest of the men who

cross your threshold.”

“Indeed!” said Lycoris, somewhat abashed. “Well, we shall have time

by and bye to discuss this paragon of merit!” And with a coquettish

toss of her head she turned from Quintus and mingled with the crowd of

guests, who were now streaming out into the illuminated gardens.

FOOTNOTES:

[153] TRANSPARENT GAUZE. The island of Cos (Κῶς) belonging to the

Sporades, furnished garments made from a half-transparent silk

gauze called _coa_. (See Hor. _Sat._ I. 2, 101.)

[154] GOLD PLATES. A room has been discovered on the Aventine,

whose walls were concealed by gilded bronze plates encrusted

with medals; on the Palatine there was an apartment lined

with plates of silver, set with precious stones. The halls

and chambers in Nero’s _domus aurea_ were covered with golden

plates.

[155] STEPHANUS. I have taken considerable liberties in dealing with

this personage in his relation to the Empress Domitia. He is,

however, historical.

[156] THE OYSTER, (_ostrea_ or _ostreum_) was considered a great

dainty in ancient times. (See note, 42, Vol. 1, “lobster.”)

[157] THERE IS NOT IN ALL ROME ONE FAITHFUL WIFE, OR ONE INNOCENT

GIRL. See Martial _Ep._ IV, 71.

“Long have I search’d, my Soph, the town,

To find a damsel that would frown,

But not a damsel will deny,

As if a shame ’t were to be shy;

As if a sin, will no one dare:

I see not one denying fair.

‘Then of the fair is no one chaste?’

A thousand, Soph, you urge in haste.

‘What does the chaste? Enlarge my views.’

She does not grant, nor yet refuse.”

ELPHINSTON.

In contrast to the hyperbolical expressions of the satirical

writers, we are made acquainted in the letters of the younger

Pliny, with a number of women of noble character; the

historians too, especially Tacitus, as well as inscriptions on

the monuments prove--if proof were required--that even in this

corrupt age feminine virtue and loftiness of character were

not rare. It is natural, that a satirical author should have

special keenness of vision for errors and weaknesses.

[158] WHAT RAVIDUS?. The poem to which Martial here alludes is found

Cat. _Carm._ XL.

“Quaenam te mala mens, miselle Ravide

Agit praecipitem in meos iambos?”

[159] TRYPHON, (LUPERCUS). The episode described here, which seems

almost like a satirical allusion to the present time, is only

one of Martial’s epigrams transposed into action. (Mart. _Ep._

I, 117.)

“As oft, Sir Tradewell, as we meet,

You’re sure to ask me in the street,

When you shall send your boy to me,

To fetch my book of poetry? etc.”

OLDHAM.

The bookseller Atrectus, who had a shop on the Argiletum,

a public square not far from the Forum Caesaris, is also

mentioned.--Traces of a well-organized book-trade are found

towards the end of the republic. The first publisher on a

larger scale is Pomponius Atticus, a friend of Cicero, who

formally issued a series of Cicero’s works, for instance

the _Orator_, _Quaestiones Academicae_, etc., and not only

distributed them to the different bookstores in Rome, but

supplied the numerous shops in Greece and Asia Minor. (See

Cic. _ad. Att._ XII, 6, XV, 13, XVI, 5.) Yet Atticus was a

patron of literature and an aesthetic, rather than a business

man. The best-known booksellers and publishers under the

emperors were: the Brothers Sosii, who issued the works of

Horatius Flaccus (Hor. _Ep._ I, 20, 2, _Ars. poet._ 345);

Dorus, the Phillip Reclam junior of ancient times, who in the

reign of Nero introduced cheap popular editions of Livy and

Cicero, (Sen. _Benef._ VII, 61) and Martial’s publisher, the

Tryphon mentioned in this story. (Mart. _Ep._ IV, 72, XIII,

13.) The editions were provided by slaves, who wrote from

dictation. The books were delivered in covers, the backs,

glued together, being fastened in the hollow of a cylinder,

through which ran a revolving stick. The volumes were cut,

the edges were dyed sometimes black and sometimes purple.

(See Göll: “_Book-trade of the Greeks and Romans_,” Schleiz.,

1865.) Pollio Valerianus published Martial’s early poems.

(Mart. _Ep._ I, 113, 5.)

[160] QUIRINAL. Martial’s house was near the temple on the Quirinal.

(Mart. _Ep._ X, 58.)

[161] DENARII. At the time of Domitian, the denarius (10 _as_,) was

worth about 15 cents.

[162] STREET-CORNERS. Large square tablets, whitened, for the

display of public notices, stood at the corners of the

streets. A tablet of this description was called album,

(albus-white).

[163] COSTERMONGER. Boiled chick-peas were publicly carried about

for sale. (Martial _Ep._ I, 41, I, 103.)

[164] MASSIVE BOWLS. The crater (_crater_ or _cratera_) was a large

vase or bowl, in which strong wine was mixed with water. A

ladle was used to fill the drinking-cups.

[165] MURRHINE VASES, (_murrhina vasa_). Vases made of _murrha_,

a material with a pale sheen in it, highly valued by the

ancients; probably fluor-spar.

[166] GUINEA-FOWLS FROM NUMIDIA, (_aves Numidicae_ or merely

_Numidicae_) were a favorite dish. (Plin., _Hist. Nat._ Mart.

etc.)

[167] THE PROVINCE OF THESPROTIS in Epirus, extended from Chaonia

to the Ambracian Gulf. The goats raised there were considered

exceptionally good.

[168] PHEASANTS FROM THE CASPIAN SEA. At the time of our story,

these birds were a newly-introduced delicacy. Phasis was the

name of the boundary river between Asia-Minor and Colchis;

hence their name _phasianus_; (_avis Phasiana_, or merely

_Phasiana_, or _Phasianus_--the pheasant.) Martial also calls

them _volucres Phasides_.

[169] DATES. The best quality were imported into Rome from Egypt.

[170] DAINTY CAKES. Bread from Picenum is mentioned in the _menu_

of a banquet given in the latter half of the century B. C.,

(Marquardt Handbuch, IV, 1.)

[171] FIGS FROM CHIOS. Varro, (_R. Rust._ I, 41) speaks of Chian,

Lydian, Chalcedonian and African figs.

[172] PISTACHIO NUTS. The best pistachio nuts came from Palestine

and Syria, whence Lucius Vitellius introduced them into his

garden at Albanum.

[173] EUPHEMUS. Caesar’s head-cook or butler. (See Martial _Ep._ IV.

8.)

“The tenth hour’s proper for my book and me,

And Euphem, thou who dost the board o’ersee.”

ANON, 1695.

[174] THE LONG FLOWING HAIR OF A FEMALE SLAVE. This fancy was not at

all unusual. (See _Petron._, 27.)

[175] HISPALIS. A city in southern Spain, now Seville.

[176] CASTANETS. Castanet dances are often represented in

pictures. (See O. Jahn, Fresco-paintings on the walls of the

columbarium, in the Villa Pamfili.)

[177] JESTER. Jesters, especially dwarfs, were very popular in

ancient Rome. The scene that follows here is based upon

various incidents in a description by Lucian, which has come

down to modern times: “The Banquet, or The Lapithae” 18,

19. In this a hideous little fellow, who gives utterance to

all sorts of jests and witticisms, appears at Aristaenetus’

banquet. “Finally he addressed each person with some

mischievous joke--and each laughed as his turn came. But

when he accosted Alcidamas, calling him a Maltese puppy, the

latter, especially as he had long been jealous of the applause

and attention bestowed on the jester by the whole company,

grew angry, threw off his cloak and challenged the dwarf to a

boxing-match. What could the poor jester do? It was infinitely

comical to see a philosopher fight with a clown. Many of the

spectators were ashamed of the scene, but others laughed

merrily, until Alcidamas was at last beaten black and blue.”