CHAPTER V
INVASION
Sonnica feared that she had lost Actaeon forever. His sudden departureseemed the caprice of a fickle Athenian--of an eternal wanderer, drivenby the fever of seeing new lands. Only the gods could tell where thatbird of passage might fly after his visit to Celtiberia! Perhaps hewould remain with Alorcus; perhaps he would go to war along with thosebarbarians; perhaps, captivated by his knowledge and cleverness, theywould go so far as to give him a kingdom.
Sonnica doubted that the Athenian would ever return. Her shortspringtime of love had been like the fugitive joy of the women adored bythe gods when they had come down to earth. She who used to be sounfeeling as to mock at affection, now spent the days weeping on hercouch, or wandering by night like a shade through the gardens, stoppingin the grotto where the Greek had given her his first caress. The slaveswondered at the harsh and capricious temper of their mistress, who onemoment groaned like a child, and the next, as if fired with suddencruelty, ordered punishments for them all; but, without warning, Actaeonpresented himself before her villa one morning, riding a dusty, sweatyhorse. He dismissed the ferocious featured barbarians who had served himas bodyguard, and ran with outstretched arms toward the tremulousSonnica. The whole of her immense dominions seemed resuscitated; themistress smiled; the garden bloomed more beautifully; on the terraceshone the plumage of the rare birds with greater splendor; theinstruments of the flute players sounded more joyful, and to the slaves,freed now from punishment, the air seemed sweeter and the sky more blue.
Sonnica's villa reawoke to its merry life, as if its owner had risenfrom the dead. The nights were devoted to feasting in the greattriclinium; Sonnica's friends, the young gallants, accepted herinvitations, and even Euphobias, the philosopher, reached his place atthe table without having to fight his way through the blows of herslaves.
Sonnica was radiant, clinging to Actaeon and listening to his words as tosweet music. The guests urged him to relate the story of his adventuresamong the Celtiberians, wondering at the customs of the tribes overwhich Alorcus reigned. Euphobias, the parasite, did not conceal hissatisfaction at possessing so powerful a friend, and he declared that hewould go to his kingdom to live awhile in comfort, without having to beghis bread from the merchants of Saguntum. Love's springtime returned forthe Athenian. He spent his days at the villa, lying at Sonnica's feet,watching her spin the bright colored wool from the distaff or give thefinishing touches to her toilette, assisted by her slaves. At the closeof day they strolled through the garden, and night surprised them in thegrotto, in fond embrace, listening to the song of the water falling intothe alabaster basin with sweet, monotonous melody.
Now and again Actaeon went to the city in the morning to stroll throughthe porticos of the Forum listening to the newsmongers with thecuriosity of a Greek accustomed to the grumblings in the Agora. Henoticed extraordinary stir in the great Saguntine market-square. Theidle talked of war; the more bellicose recounted with exaggeration theirachievements on the last expedition against the Turdetani, and thetranquil merchants left their counters to ask for news, accepting withgestures of despair the possibility of a coming struggle. As Actaeon cameinto Saguntum he saw on the wall hundreds of slaves repairing themerlons worn by time, and filled with cracks which many years of peacehad opened in them.
Mopsus, the archer, put him in touch with the deliberations of theelders. Hannibal had sent an emissary with an ultimatum to return to theTurdetani the conquered territories and the booty taken during theirlast expedition. The African threatened with insufferable arrogance, andthe Saguntine Republic had answered with scorn, refusing to listen tohis commands. Saguntum would only obey its strong ally Rome, and, securein her protection, she looked with indifference upon the threats of theCarthaginian. However, as war seemed inevitable, and as all stood infear of the youth and audacious character of Hannibal, two senators hadembarked some days before at the port of Saguntum, setting sail for thecoasts of Italy to relate what had taken place, soliciting theprotection of the Roman Senate.
This news circulated confusedly through the Forum, and the crowd jestedat Hannibal as an impetuous youth who needed a lesson. He might comeagainst Saguntum whenever he wished. These Carthaginians were the verysame who had been driven out of Sicily, the same who had been compelledto abandon the coasts of Magna Grecia, being expelled by the Romans, whohad then raised their own city beside the ruin! If they had achievedvictories afterward in Iberia it was only against barbarian tribesignorant of the art of warfare, who fell victims to their cunning! Whenthey attacked Saguntum they would encounter a worthier enemy, and Rome,the powerful ally, would fall upon their rear and exterminate them!
These ideas infuriated the city.
News came that Hannibal had set forth upon his campaign and was slowlyapproaching, and with such tidings a gust of war seemed to sweep overSaguntum inflaming the minds of the most prudent. The peace-lovingmerchants with the mute choler of pacific-minded men who see theirpossessions endangered, stood in the doorways of their shops cleaningthe rust from old arms, or they went down to the river bank to practiseusing them, mingling with the young men, who, since sunrise, had beenmaking their horses caracole, gaining skill in the management of thelance, or improving themselves in archery under the direction of Mopsus.
Actaeon now began to spend his days away from the villa, deaf to theprayers of Sonnica, who longed to have him ever near her. The Senate hadgiven him command of the peltasts, the light infantry, and at the headof some hundreds of young men, barefooted and with no other defensivearm than a cuirass of wool and a shield of osiers, he ran along theriver bank, teaching them to hurl darts without stopping in their race,to wound an enemy as they passed swiftly by his side, without givinghim time to respond with another blow.
This exercise over, the perspiring youths dived into the river torefresh themselves with a swim, while the Greek slowly returned to thevilla, lingering in the most smiling spots of the domain.
One afternoon the Athenian met Erotion, the potter, at the foot of anenormous cherry tree, gazing into the tallest branches, from which fella shower of red fruit shaken down by an invisible hand. They had not metsince the day when Actaeon surprised him modeling before the nudeshepherdess.
The youth greeted the Greek with a smile.
"Are you no longer busy?" asked Actaeon with paternal kindness. "Have youfinished your work?"
The boy answered with a gesture of indifference: "My work! Do not laughat me, Greek. I have nothing to do."
"And where is Rhanto?"
"She is in the top of that tree, gathering the finest cherries for me.She climbs like a wood-nymph and she will not let me go with her. She isafraid I shall hurt myself."
The branches of the cherry tree shook, and the shepherdess descended,agile as a squirrel, her limbs bare, her skirt gathered up and filledwith cherries. She and her lover devoured them amid laughter, their lipsruddy with the crimson fruit-juice, and they decorated each other's hairor hung yokes of cherries over their ears, forming picturesqueruby-colored earrings.
Actaeon smiled at the strong, handsome young folks who ever sought eachother's company and frolicked as if they were in the heart of thedesert, giving no heed to the danger threatening the city.
"But what about your art?" he asked.
Erotion and Rhanto laughed at the recollection.
"I smashed the figure to pieces," said the boy. "I broke the clay intofragments, and I have decided to touch no other than that in thepottery--when I make up my mind to return there."
He flung his arms around the shepherdess and rested his head upon hershoulder, rubbing his cheek against her neck with an almost felinecaress.
"Why should I work?" he added. "I spent many days kneeling before thataccursed clay, struggling to make it take on the form of her body; butit is useless. Clay is clay, and it cannot become living substance. Whenthe soft flesh of my Rhanto is within reach of my hand, it is folly togrow desperate trying to mold earth into a semblance of her life. I wishto
dream no more, Athenian. I will be content with what I have."
With sublime indifference he caressed his playmate in Actaeon's presence.
"One day," continued the boy, "I saw clearly, and I understood thetruth. Rhanto stood before me. Blinded by ambition I had seen in heronly the model, but that day I beheld the woman. Why seek glory when Ihad love before me! Even though I should mould a great statue, whatshould I gain? That people should say, after I am dead, 'Erotion theSaguntine made this.' I should not hear it--after having spent my lifeworking and suffering. No; let us live and love. That day I kicked thestatue to pieces, and I embraced Rhanto with an enthusiasm of joy.Loving each other is better than wasting time over clay puppets. Is notthat so, Rhanto?"
They kissed each other again, heedless of the presence of the Greek.Actaeon observed a transformation in the pair, both in the frank devotionof the boy, and in the glow in the eyes of the shepherdess. The ardor oflove seemed to have made him more manly, and to have given her a suaveand tender grace, a sweet abandon which she had lacked before.
"I have forgotten art, and now we are happy," continued the boy. "Itwould have been madness to have run off to Greece, leaving here atreasure which I had not fully appreciated. We spend our time wanderingthrough the fields; we know mysterious corners in the groves shelteredby curtains of leaves, dark and perfumed hiding places which evenSonnica the rich might envy us. When we are hungry we milk Rhanto'sgoats and we rob a beehive; we climb trees in search of fruit; this isthe glorious season of the year; the whole champaign is full ofcherries."
He suddenly ceased speaking, fearing lest he had said too much. PerhapsRhanto reproved him with a nudge. Then he added, in a supplicating tone:
"You are good, Athenian. Rhanto and I have looked upon you as an elderbrother since that day we met you on the Road of the Serpent. Do not sayanything to my father, nor to Sonnica. Let us be happy in this life ofours, which is worthy of the gods."
Actaeon envied the felicity of these care-free youths, who loved eachother frankly, living beneath the trees, strong and beautiful as wildcreatures who had no thoughts beyond their companionship.
"Saguntum is about to be attacked. War is at our gates. Did you not knowit?"
"We have not heard of it," said Erotion, with a scornful gesture. "I aminterested in nothing but Rhanto."
"Are you not interested in the fate of your city?"
"I am more interested in the kisses of my shepherdess. As long as therebe love, sunshine, and fruits, what does the rest of the world matter tome?"
"Have you no thought for your country, you truant?"
"Just now I have no thought for anything but these cherries, and forthese red lips which are as fresh as they."
They parted, and Actaeon long held the memory of the meeting. Thelight-heartedness of the loving couple filled him with envy.
The summer months passed. The vines of the domain ripened theirclusters, the farmers rejoiced in the prospect of the coming crop hiddenbeneath the leaves, but from time to time, like a gloomy trumpet blast,came news of Hannibal, of his victories over the tribes of the interiorwho refused to recognize him, and of his imperious demands uponSaguntum.
Actaeon scented the nearness of war, and this, which had ever been hisprincipal occupation, now caused him only sorrow. He had grown to lovethis beautiful land as dearly as Greece. His soul, saturated with thesweet peace of the fertile fields, and of the rich industrious city, wassaddened at the thought that this life was to be paralyzed. Hisexistence had been spent amid struggles and adventures; and now, richand happy, when he longed for peace in a corner where he hoped to endhis days, war, like a forgotten mistress who presents herselfinopportunely, returned unbidden, forcing him anew to cruelty anddestruction.
One afternoon, at the end of summer, he was pondering these things as hewas riding toward the city. In the oblique rays of the sun theindustrious bees, searching out the wild flowers, glistened like goldenbuttons. The vintagers were singing in the vineyards, stooping overtheir baskets. Actaeon saw one of the slaves whom Sonnica kept in herwarehouses in Saguntum come running from the direction of the city.
He stopped panting before Actaeon. He was almost speechless from fatigue,and his broken words revealed his alarm. Hannibal was coming from thedirection of Saetabis! The people from the country were crowding into thecity in terror, driving their flocks before them. They had not seen theinvader but they ran, horrified by the tales of the fugitives who werefleeing from the frontiers of the Saguntine territory. The Carthaginianshad crossed the border; they were people of ferocious aspect, who borestrange arms, who looted the villages, and set them on fire. He wasrunning to tell his mistress that she might take refuge in the city.
He rushed on toward Sonnica's villa. The Greek hesitated a moment; hedeliberated whether he should go back in search of his beloved, but heended by setting out on a gallop toward the city, and as he neared it,he rode at full speed around the walls. He went for a look at thehighway from the mountains which gave Saguntum communication with thetowns by a branch which led to Saetatis and Denia. As he approached hebegan to meet the refugees of whom the slave had told him.
They flooded the road like an inundation. The flocks and herds werebleating and lowing under the lash, crowding in between the wagons;women were running, carrying great bundles on their heads, and draggingalong the children clutching at the folds of their tunics; boys weredriving horses laden with furniture and clothing thrown togetherhaphazard in the precipitation of flight, and ewes leaped to the sidesof the road to escape the wheels which, catching their dragging fleece,almost crushed them.
The Greek, riding into the stream of fugitives, opened passage with hishorse through the seething wave of wagons and animals, rustics andslaves, in which people of different towns were confusedly mingled,while members of scattered families were calling to one anotherdesperately through the clouds of dust.
The fleeing multitude was clearing away. Actaeon was beginning to meetthe stragglers; poor old women traveling with vacillating step, bearingon their shoulders some lamb which constituted their entire fortune; oldmen crushed by the weight of pots and clothing; sick people draggingthemselves along by the aid of a staff; abandoned animals wanderingamong the olive trees near the highway, that suddenly darted forward atfull speed through the fields as if scenting their masters; childrenseated on a stone weeping, abandoned by their kindred.
Soon the road was empty. The last of the refugees were left behind, andActaeon saw before him only the narrow tongue of red earth winding alongthe mountain slopes, without a solitary being to break the monotony ofthe road with his shadow.
The gallop of his horse resounded like distant thunder through theprofound silence. It seemed as if Nature had expired as she guessed theapproach of war. Even the ancient trees, the twisted olives which hadstood for centuries, the great fig trees which rose like green cupolasagainst the mountain slopes, remained motionless, as if terrified at theapproach of that something which caused the people to abandon theirhomes and to flee into the city.
Actaeon rode through a village. Closed doors! Silent streets! From theinterior of a cabin he thought he heard a faint groan--some sick personforsaken by his kindred in their haste to escape. Then he passed a greatclosed villa. Behind the high mud walls a dog was howling in despair.
Then once more solitude, silence, absence of life, a paralysis thatseemed to creep over the fields. Night began to fall. From afar, as ifdiffused and mellowed by the distance, he heard a muffled booming;something like the surging of an invisible sea, the swelling roar of aninundation.
The Greek left the road; his horse began to climb a cultivated hill, hishoofs sinking into the red soil of the vineyards. From the height hecould dominate the landscape for a great distance.
The sun's last rays dyed the mountain slopes a brilliant orange. On thewinding red road shone like a rivulet of sparks the cuirasses of a groupof horsemen approaching cautiously on a trot, as if exploring the way.Actaeon recognized them; they were the Numidian
cavalry with white andfloating mantles, while, mingled with them galloped other warriors ofless imposing stature, waving lances and making their small horsescaracole. The Greek smiled as he recognized Hannibal's Amazons, thefamous squadron he had seen in New Carthage, formed of the wives anddaughters of soldiers, commanded by the valorous Asbyte, daughter ofIarbas, the Garamantan of Fezzan.
Behind this group, the road was deserted for some distance. Against thebackground, like a dark monster moving with serpentine undulations,loomed the army, an immense girdle upon which glittered the lances likea line of fire broken at intervals by square bulks, which advanced likemoving towers. These were the elephants.
Suddenly a new sun seemed to rise behind the army, illuminating itsfootsteps. A lurid light filled the horizon, and upon this ruddybackground the serrated outlines of an immense mass were traced. Avillage was in flames. Hannibal's troops, composed of mercenaries fromall countries, and from barbarian tribes in the interior, intended toterrify the hostile city, hence immediately upon entering Saguntineterritory they laid waste the fields and set fire to the dwellings.Actaeon feared to become surrounded by the Numidians and the Amazons, andriding down from the height he started toward Saguntum at a desperategallop.
It was after dark when he reached the city, and he had to call hisfriend Mopsus and make himself known before the gate would open to him.
"Have you seen them?" asked the archer.
"Before the cock crows they will be before our walls."
The city presented an extraordinary aspect. The streets wereilluminated with bonfires. Pine torches burned in doorways and windows,and the multitude of fugitives huddled in the public squares, fillingthe porticos, and lying on the thresholds. All the Saguntines hadstreamed into the city.
The Forum was a camp. The flocks and herds were crowded between the fourcolonnades without space to move, stamping and bellowing; sheep sprangabout on the steps of the temples; families of rustics boiled pots onthe Attic bases of the marble columns, and the glow of so many fires,flickering on the facades of the houses, seemed to communicate a thrillof alarm to the entire city. The magistrates ordered the fugitives lyingin the streets obstructing traffic to get up, and lodged them in theslaves' quarters of the dwellings of the rich, or had them conducted tothe Acropolis to camp in its innumerable buildings. The herds also weredriven thither by the light of torches, between a double row of almostnaked men who beat the oxen when they tried to escape down the sides ofthe sacred mountain.
Rising above the murmur of the multitude sounded blasts from trumpetsand conch shells calling the citizens to form ready for defending thewalls. Merchants, dressed in bronze loricas, their faces covered by theGrecian helmet crested with an enormous brush of horsehair, issued fromtheir houses, tearing themselves from the arms of wives and children,and strode majestically through the crowds of rustics, bow in hand,their spears over their shoulders, and their swords clanking againsttheir nude thighs, their limbs covered to the knees with the coppergreaves. The young men dragged to the walls enormous stones to hurldown upon the besiegers, and they laughed on being assisted by thewomen who were eager to take part in the combat. Old men with venerablebeards, rich members of the Senate, opened passage, followed by slaveswith great bundles of spears and swords, distributing the arms among thestrongest country people, first making sure if they were freemen.
The city seemed to rejoice. Hannibal was coming! The more enthusiastichad actually been anxious lest the African would not dare to presenthimself before their walls; but there he was, and all laughed, thinkingthat Carthage would perish in the fall of Hannibal here at the feet ofSaguntum, as soon as Rome should rally to the aid of the city.
The Saguntine ambassadors were already in Rome, and her legions wouldsoon arrive and crush the besiegers at a blow. Some, in theirenthusiastic optimism, inclined to the marvelous, believing that, by amiracle of the gods, the great deed would happen within a few hours, andthat as soon as day should dawn, at the very instant when Hannibal'sarmy had begun to invest Saguntum, a countless galaxy of sails wouldappear on the blue of the Sucronian gulf--the fleet convoying theinvincible veterans of Rome.
Nearly the entire city was on the walls. The multitude crowded upon themuntil many had to catch hold of the merlons to keep from falling.
Outside the ramparts darkness reigned absolute. The frogs that inhabitedthe pools along the river were hushed as if terrified; the dogs thatwandered vagabond through the champaign barked ceaselessly; they sensedthe presence of hidden beings moving in the shadows surrounding thecity.
Obscurity augmented the anxious uncertainty of the watchers on thewalls. Suddenly a point of light pierced the darkness of the plain;another and then another flash, in different places at a distance fromthe city. They were torches guiding the steps of the approaching army.Before the ruddy spot of light silhouettes of men and horses were seento pass. Far off on the hilltops gleamed bonfires, serving as signals tostraggling troops.
These lights exasperated the more impatient. Some of the younger mencould no longer remain inactive, and drawing their bows, began to shoottheir arrows. Promptly came response from out the darkness. A whistlingpassed over the heads of the crowd, and from the houses near the wallsome tiles flew off with a crash. Sling-shots from the enemy!
Thus the night passed. When the cocks crowed announcing dawn a greatpart of the multitude had fallen asleep, wearied with straining theireyes into the darkness where buzzed the invisible foe.
When the sun rose the Saguntines saw Hannibal's entire army before theirwalls, on the side toward the river. Actaeon, as he noted the location ofthe troops, could not repress a smile.
"He well knows the lay of the land. His visit to the city has stood himin good stead. Even in the dark he has chosen the only point from whichSaguntum can be attacked."
The whole side of the mountain was free of besiegers. His army hadencamped between the river and the lower part of the city, occupying theorchards, the gardens of the villas, the beautiful section of which therich of Saguntum were so proud.
Soldiers came and went through the luxurious villas, preparing theirmorning meal; they made kindling of sumptuous furniture to light theircamp fires; they wrapped themselves in garments they had found, and theycut down trees to make room for setting up their tents. Across theriver, over the immense domain, groups of horsemen scattered out to takepossession of villages, of villas, of the innumerable buildings whichrose above the verdure of the plain, abandoned to the mercy of theenemy.
The first things to attract the attention of the Saguntines, exciting achildish curiosity, were the elephants. They stood in a row on theopposite side of the river, enormous, ashen-hued, like tumescencesuprisen from the earth within the night, their green-painted earsdrooping like fans, from time to time waving their trunks which seemedlike gigantic leeches, trying to suck in the blue of the sky. Theirdrivers, assisted by the soldiers, unbound the square towers resting ontheir backs, and rolled up the heavy trappings which covered theirflanks when engaged in battle. They set them free, as if the fertileplain were to them an immense stable, their drivers being convinced thatthe siege would be a lengthy undertaking, and that while it lasted theywould not need the assistance of the terrible beasts, so appreciated inbattle.
Near the elephants, along the river bank, stood the engines of war, thecatapults, the battering-rams, the movable towers, complicatedstructures of wood and bronze, drawn by rosaries of double yokes ofoxen having enormous backward curving horns.
As if suffering from an eruption the fields were covered with pustulesof diverse colors, tents of cloth, of straw, or of skins, some conical,others square, the majority mound-shaped like ant hills, around whichswarmed the armed multitude.
The Saguntines, from the top of the walls, examined the besieging armythat seemed to fill the whole plain, and which was being joined by aceaseless stream of new crowds on foot and on horseback, flowing in fromevery road, and seeming to roll down from the crests of the surroundingmountains. It was an agglomeratio
n of diverse races, of differentpeoples; a bizarre collection of costumes, colors, and types, and thoseSaguntines who had been taught by travel recognized the differentnations, and were pointing them out to their absorbed fellow citizens.
Some horsemen who seemed to fly, lying stretched along the backs oftheir swift barbs, were Numidians, Africans of feminine aspect, coveredwith white veils, wearing women's earrings and slippers, perfumed, witheyes painted black, but who were impetuous in combat and fought in fullcareer using their lances with great skill. Around the camp fires in thegardens stalked athletic negroes from Libya, with kinky hair andglistening teeth, smiling in stupid satisfaction as they wrapped theirnaked limbs in garments of rich weave which they had just stolen,shivering with cold as soon as they drew away from the fire, as ifsuffering martyrdom in the cool morning air. These dark, shiny-skinnedmen, so seldom seen in Saguntum, excited the curiosity of the citizensalmost as much as the Amazons who audaciously passed on a gallop closeto the walls to obtain a better view of the city. They were young women,slender, their skins bronzed by exposure. Their hair floated behindtheir helmets like a barbaric decoration, and they wore no otherclothing than a broad tunic open on the left side, displaying sinewylimbs clinging to their horses' ribs. Over the breast some worecorselets of bronze-scales, also open on the left side to give greaterfreedom in fighting, displaying the roundness of their small breastsmade firm and hard by fatiguing exercise. They rode their wild nervoushorses bareback, guiding them with a delicate bridle, and as theygalloped in groups the ferocious animals bit and kicked each other, thusenlivening the desperate race. The Amazons approached close to thewalls, laughing and hurling insults which the Saguntines did notunderstand; they waved their lances and shields; and when a cloud ofarrows and stones was flung after them, they dashed away, withwind-swept drapery, turning their heads to repeat their mockinggestures.
The besieged distinguished in the dark crowd of soldiers the cuirassesof certain horsemen which shone like plates of gold. They were theCarthaginian captains, some rich men of Carthage who followed Hannibal,sons of opulent merchants who marched with the army more like shepherdsthan like chiefs, covered with metal from head to foot for protectionagainst blows, and, with the genius of their race, more devoted toadministering the conquests and in sharing the booty than in seekingglory in combat.
In addition to these people, those on the walls who were familiar withthem pointed out the other troops of the besieging army. Some with skinthe color of milk, with faded mustaches, and red horsehair tied to thecrowns of their heads, who laid aside their military cloaks and tallboots of untanned leather to bathe in the river, were Gauls. The others,bronzed and so thin that their skeletons were outlined as if they wouldpush through the skin, were Africans from the oases of the great desert,mysterious people, who with the beating of their small drums caused themoon to descend, and by playing the flute forced venomous serpents todance. Mingling with them were the bulky Lusitanians, with limbs asstrong as columns, and broad rock-like chests; those from Baetica, unitedto their horses day and night by a love which lasted all their lives;the hostile Celtiberians, bushy-haired and dirty, wearing their ragswith arrogance; tribes from the North, who worshipped solitary menhirsas gods, and in the moonlight sought mysterious herbs for charms andphilters; men of ferocious customs, in perpetual battle with hunger;barbarian people of whom horrifying tales were told, believed to devourthe bodies of the conquered after a victory.
The Balearic slingers provoked laughter in spite of their ferociousaspect. From the walls the observers commented on the extravagantcustoms which prevailed in their island home, and the multitude burstinto laughter contemplating the almost naked youths, carrying stickswith charred points which served them as lances, and having threeslings, one wound around the forehead, another about the waist, and thethird held in the hand. One of these slings was of horsehair, one ofesparto, and the third of bull tendon, and one or the other was usedaccording to the distance they had to throw.
They lived on their islands in caves or in the hollow spaces betweenhuge masses of rock, and they were taught to use the sling while merechildren. Their fathers set their bread some distance from them, andwould not let them eat it until they had brought it down with a pebble.Their passion was drunkenness, and woman their strongest appetite. Incombat they turned with scorn from prisoners who would bring high ransomto capture the women, and they not infrequently would exchange sixstrong slave men for a single slave woman. On the islands they wereunfamiliar with gold and silver; the elders divining the evils of money,had prohibited the importation of coins, and the Balearic slingers inthe service of Carthage, unable to carry their earnings to theircountry, spent their wages in drink or flung them generously into thehands of the loose and wretched women who followed the army. Theirtraditional customs amused the Saguntines. At their weddings, so saidthose who had visited the islands, it was customary for all the gueststo embrace the bride in advance of the husband, and at funerals thecorpse was beaten until the bones were crushed and converted into ashapeless mass which they forced into a narrow urn and buried under aheap of stones. Their slings were terrible. They hurled to greatdistances balls of sun-baked clay, conical at their ends, and bearinggrotesque inscriptions dedicated to the one who received the blow, andin battle they flung stones weighing a pound with such force that thehighest tempered armor failed to resist them.
In the rear of this warlike crowd ragged women of all colors scatteredthrough the champaign; lean, naked children who did not know theirparents; the parasites of war, who marched at the tail of the army torevel in the spoils of victory; females who at night lay down in oneextreme of the camp and arose on the opposite in the morning, and, agedin the prime of their youth by fatigue and blows, died forsaken by theroadside; youngsters who looked upon all the soldiers of their race astheir fathers, bearing on their backs on long marches the firewood orthe flesh-pot of the warriors, and, in moments of fiercest struggle,when the fighting was hand to hand, they slipped between theadversaries' legs and bit them like rabid cur-dogs.
Actaeon found Sonnica on the wall, gazing at the hostile camp in thefirst streak of dawn. The beautiful Greek had taken refuge in Saguntumthe night before, followed by slaves and flocks, moving part of herriches from the villa to her warehouse. She had left behind rooms filledwith paintings and mosaics; rich furniture, sumptuous table-service, allwhich would fall into the hands of the victor. And she and her fellowGreek saw peeping through the distant foliage the terrace of the villawith its statues, the tower of the doves and the roofs of the houses ofthe slaves, over which men, barely discernible, were running likeinsects. The invaders were there; perhaps they would amuse themselves byshooting their arrows at the brilliantly plumaged Asiatic birds, and bybeating the old and sick slaves abandoned in the flight. Between thebanana trees in the garden rose the smoke of a bonfire. The Greek womanand her lover guessed the destruction and rapine that were takingplace. Sonnica grew sad, not at the loss of a part of her riches, butbecause they were rending her heart through destroying a place which hadbeen witness to her first outbursts of love for the Athenian.
Some time after sunrise the Saguntine people cried out with indignation.Along the Road of the Serpent appeared groups of drunken and shoutingwomen embracing soldiers. They were the _lupas_ of the port, themiserable harlots who thronged around the temple of Aphrodite by night,and who were denied entrance to the city. When the first Carthaginianhorsemen passed through the port these creatures had followed them withenthusiasm. Accustomed to the coarse blandishments of men of allcountries, the presence of these soldiers, so different in dress andnationality, did not seem strange to them. The 'wolves' of the land werethe same as those of the sea. They adored strong men, birds of preywhich could destroy them with their talons, and they followed theCarthaginians to their camp, rejoicing in their hearts at the chance toapproach the city without fear of punishment, and at being able to mockthe besieged inhabitants with the concentrated odium of long years ofhumiliation.
T
hey sang like mad women, flitting from one pair of greedy and tremblinghands to the next which disputed for them as if in their eagerness theywould tear them to pieces. They drank to intoxication from amphorae ofrich wines sacked from the villas; around their shoulders they flungcloths with threads of gold, stolen but a moment before; the Numidianswith their moist gazelle-like eyes, looked upon them admiringly,bedecking them with crowns of grass, and they in turn bursting intobacchanal laughter, petted the kinky hair of the Ethiopians, who giggledlike children, displaying their sharp cannibal teeth.
They gave themselves up to all manner of ribaldry near the long line ofhorses staked out in front of the tents, displaying their wantonness asa shameless insult to the besieged city, and the Saguntines who hadwitnessed undaunted the approach of the long defile of the enemytrembled with ire behind their merlons as they witnessed this offense oftheir courtesans.
"The wretches! _Caninae!_"
The women of the city hissed and reviled them, pale with fury, leaningover the walls ready to spring into the camp to lay hold upon thestrumpets, while they, as if the anger of the city only stimulated them,redoubled their laughter, adding insult to insult, and exciting thewhole army to join with them.
A fresh cause of indignation infuriated anew the minds of theSaguntines. Some thought they saw something familiar in the appearanceof one of the Celtiberian warriors riding at the head of a troop ofcavalry. His gallant bearing on his horse, the arrogance with which hegalloped with firm seat in the saddle, recalled to many the sightlyprocession of the Panathenaic festival. When he dismounted and removedhis helmet, wiping away the sweat, all recognized him, and raised ashout of resentment. Alorcus! Even he! Another ingrate, faithless to thecity which had overwhelmed him with honors and distinctions! His duty aschieftain compelled him to ignore his fraternal reception in Saguntum.
Blind with rage they drew their bows against him but the arrows fellshort of the spot where the Celtiberians were encamped. The maddenedcrowd experienced one slight consolation. The groups along the wall madeway for Theron, the priest of Hercules, who advanced with the majesty ofa god, his eyes fixed on the enemy, insensible to the general adorationwhich surrounded him.
The Saguntines persuaded themselves that they beheld Hercules himself,who perhaps had abandoned his temple on the Acropolis to come down totheir walls. He was nude; an enormous lion skin covered his back. Thewild beast's claws were crossed over his breast, and his head wascovered by the cranium of the animal, with bristling whiskers, sharpteeth, and yellow glass eyes which shone between the tossed golden mane.His right hand clutched without visible effort the entire trunk of anoak tree which served him as a cudgel in imitation of the mace of thegod. His shoulders towered above all other heads. His breasts were roundand strong as shields, on which the veins and sinews were traced liketendrils winding round the muscles, and his columnar limbs, all excitedadmiration. His virility was the very type of sovereign power. He was soenormous that his head seemed small between his great shoulders,exaggerated in size by the cushion of his muscles; his chest heaved likea bellows, and instinctively all took a step backward, fearing contactwith that machine of flesh created for strength.
Sonnica's friends, the young gallants, who, even on this extraordinaryoccasion had not forgotten to paint their faces, followed and admiredhim, ordering the crowd, to give them passage.
"Hail, Theron!" shouted Lachares. "We will see what Hannibal will dowhen he meets you in battle."
"Hail to the Saguntine Hercules!" replied the other youths, leaningweakly on the backs of their little slave boys.
The giant looked over the encampment, in which trumpets began to sound,and the soldiers ran to form in rank. The slingers cautiously advanced,sheltering themselves behind buildings and hummocks. The attack wasabout to begin. On the walls the bowmen drew their bows, and the boyspiled up stones to hurl with their slings. The old men compelled thewomen to retire. At the head of the stairway leading up to the top ofthe wall, Euphobias the philosopher stood haranguing in the midst of agroup, paying no heed to the indignation of his hearers.
"Blood is going to flow," he shouted; "you will all perish, and forwhat? I ask you what do you gain by not obeying Hannibal? You willalways have a master, and it is just as well to be friends of Carthageas of Rome. The siege will be prolonged, and you will die of hunger; Ishall outlive you all, because I know hunger from of old like a faithfulfriend. But again I ask you, what more does it profit you to be Romansthan Carthaginians? Live and enjoy! Leave shedding of blood to thebutchers, and before you think of putting another man to death, studyyour own selves. If you would give heed to my wisdom, if instead ofscorning me, you would feed me in exchange for my advice, you would notbe shut up in your city like foxes in a trap."
A chorus of imprecations and a row of threatening fists answered thephilosopher.
"Parasite! Slave of poverty!" they shouted. "You are worse than those_lupas_ who throw themselves at the barbarians."
Euphobias, whose insolence increased as the indignation blazed higher,opened his mouth to reply; but he hesitated, beholding a dark mass whichshut out the sunlight. The gigantic Theron was before him, looking athim as scornfully as would one of those elephants that the besiegers hadnear the river. He raised his left hand carelessly, as if he were goingto flip off an insect; he barely grazed the insolent face when thephilosopher tumbled down the steps from the wall, his head bleeding,silent, bumping from step to step without a groan, like a man accustomedto such caresses, and convinced that pain is but a figment of theimagination.
At the same moment a cloud of black arrows whistled over the walls likea flock of birds. Tiles flew off, bits of plaster sprang from themerlons, and some fell from the wall with broken heads. From between themerlons stones and arrows leaped as an impetuous answer.
The defense of the city had begun!
Sónnica la cortesana. English Page 5
