_BOOK II. CHAPTER I._
I saw, my friends, that you listened with not less of indignation, than ofastonishment, to the account which I yesterday gave you of a day spent inthe Amphitheatre of Vespasian. Neither did I expect that it should beotherwise with young persons of ingenuous minds, whose feelings have neverbeen hardened by any experience of the life of Rome.
And yet, when you reflect a little more upon the matter, I think you willabate something of the wonder you manifested on hearing of the fondness ofthe Roman people for some of those cruel, ruthful spectacles. You willadmit, at least, that there is a certain natural principle, on anexaggerated and morbid obedience to which, rather than on any total andabsolute departure from the laws of our mind, much of that which excitedso much of your astonishment and indignation also may be supposed todepend. In and by myself, I maintain it must always be a most interestingthing for a man to witness, in whatever shape, the last moments of anyhuman creature. I mean not those merely corporeal struggles, in whichthere must always be every thing to revolt, and nothing to interest,because in them, it is evident, the nobler part of our nature can have noshare--the soul being already swallowed up, and its divinity absorbed inthe intense convulsions of animal suffering. These are things on which noeyes can gaze willingly, without indicating degradation of spirit. Butbefore that curtain falls, beyond which every one must shudder topenetrate, there is a last terrible act of the real tragedy, which mustever have power to fix the eyes with an earnestness not the less deep,because of its being preceded by some struggles of reluctance. We live ina state in which, however we may clothe ourselves in the armour of levity,or with the more effectual armour of occupation, it is impossible that theone fearful idea of dissolution should not ever and anon come to scare uswith its terrors. We feel that we are walking over a soil, on the mostlevel and the most rugged parts of which it is equally possible we maymeet with the dark pit wherein it is our destiny to stumble. How sudden,or how gradual soever the inevitable fall may be, we well know we shallhave little enough space to prepare ourselves for the last leap, when weshall be fairly on the declivity; and I maintain, once more, that it is arational, no less than a natural, curiosity, which leads us to seek tosupply, in some measure, this necessary defect, and to gather, ifpossible, from witnessing the last moments of others, some hints which maybe of use to us when our own dark hour shall come. We see a being standingon the edge of a precipice, to which the only thing we know certainly, is,that we ourselves shall one day be brought; and shall it be possible tofeel no curiosity concerning the manner in which he conducts himself onthat giddy brink? That which is denied to us in our own person, may, inpart, be supplied in his; and the eyes which dwell upon his features,while they are filled with the overwhelming expectation of nearapproaching death, make the closest approximation of which our natureadmits to penetrating the actual mysteries of the unseen region. Formyself, both wiser and better did I come away from all that mournfulspectacle. But perhaps I am joining together things which, after all, hadno necessary connection, when I ascribe to my contemplation of the deathof Tisias, and the other cruel sights which, as it seemed, were regardedwith indifference by the great multitudes around me, so much of the changewhich, about this period, my own spirit underwent.
The slumbers which followed that busy day of novelties and terrors, werelong and heavy; for utterly worn out were both mind and body, and youthhastened to repair the waste of its energies, by drinking deeply at thegreat fountain of natural refreshment. Nevertheless, although the hand ofsleep had lain steadily upon me, when I awoke in the already-confirmedlight of morning, I found myself yet filled with a confused and tremuloussense of excitation, as if the spirit had disdained to be idle afterhaving received so much food for activity, and Fancy had still beengarnishing the passive sphere of the night with aerial representations ofall the gorgeous and solemn realities of the by-past day. I lay thereruminating amidst the dispersing shadows of the mysterious world ofdreams, and scarcely as yet aware that a whole night had passed since Ihad returned from the Amphitheatre, when I was at length roused to asudden and complete recollection of all things by the entrance of Boto.
"My dear master," said he, making a sort of start after he had come in, "Iwas afraid you would be angry with me for not coming to you sooner, butnow I perceive you have been as lazy as the rest of us. Why, surely, youare not aware what time of day it is! What would my dear old lady over thewater say, if she heard of my young master lying in bed till within threehours of noon? Oh, what a place is this you have brought me to! Why, whenI awake in the morning, the first thought that comes into my head alwaysis, What, Boto, and is it really possible that all that wide roaring sealies between you and the green banks of quiet Anton? Is it truth, goodtruth, and neither dream nor witching, that you, _Boto_, are in _Rome_?But I sometimes have to jump up, and take a look out of the window beforeI am quite convinced; and then, to be sure, I know well enough that I, whoused always to dream about driving cattle to Venta, and perhaps kissing aBrigian lass by the way, could never dream of so many fine things unless Iwere really among them. Good heavens! what a heap of stories I shall haveto tell, when we get safe back to Old Britain!"--"Indeed, Boto," said I,"you will be quite a travelled man. Be sure you do not give yourself toomany airs on the occasion."--"Travelled man, in faith," replied the clown."I should like to know, who it is that will be able to hold up his headwith me, when I am once fairly back again? Oh, how the old smith will behumbled! He thought himself such a mighty person, because my old master,your father, had taken him with him as far as Camolodunum, and how he usedto brag of what he had seen there; but now, I trow, Master Pernorix willbe fain to talk quietly about his journeys.--O Rome, Rome! what fine thingsshall I have to tell them all about Rome,--and the lions, and the monkeys,and Caesar, and the elephants, and the fighting men, and the Christian, andall the wonderful sights we saw yesterday. But the worst of it is, thatnobody will ever be able to believe one half of what I shall tellthem.--And when does my dear Master Valerius think we shall be returning tomy old lady, and all the rest of them in Britain?"
"Of a truth, good Boto," said I, "that is more than I can pretend to giveyou any notion of; but I dare say, you shall have both time andopportunity to pick up a few more marvels still before we go. In themeantime, you are comfortable, I hope, in your quarters, and Dromo takesgood heed of you."--"Dromo," quoth he, looking as arch as his massivefeatures would admit of,--"Dromo, indeed!--If I had nobody to trust to buthim, I should be very ill off. Dromo is a great man; the young lord of thehouse has him up in his chamber every day to talk with him by himself; andwhen he comes down again, or returns from any of the errands he is sentout upon, there is no bearing with him in the court-yard, where we are allhuddled together. As for the overseer, old Sarcalus, the freed-man, he hasquite given him up. Nobody dare speak about whipping him; he looks uponhimself as almost as important a person as his master, I believe, if thetruth were known; and yet I should not complain, for, after all, it wasDromo that carried me yesterday to the Amphitheatre."--"Ay, that was verykind of Dromo--I should have thought of it myself. And did he not see thatyou got your supper snugly, when you came back?"--"Ah! now, master, don'tmake them whip me--I see they have told you all."--"All!" said I--"I doassure you they have told me nothing about you; but come, speak out. Itmust be something very bad that would make me think of having you whipt.You have only been three days in Rome--I shall make allowance for a fewvagaries, provided they be not very extravagant."--"Well, then, MasterCaius," quoth he, "since they have told you nothing beforehand, and youseem inclined to be so good-natured with me, I shall e'en tell you allmyself, and I hope you won't think me, after all, very much toblame."--"Speak out, my honest Boto, and remember there is Dromo also to beexamined, in case you keep any thing back from me."--"Ah! master, but Dromowould not be so easily caught as poor Boto. Dromo is a cunning man, and aclose; and besides, they say he was born in a city they call Crete, andthe people of that place can't speak a word o
f truth, even although theywere willing. Do not think any thing at all about Dromo; but trustentirely to your own poor Boto, and he will tell you every thing. Dromo isa sad dog."
I know not what more he might have proceeded to say concerning Dromo, hadnot that crafty Cretan, who, without question, had been listening all thewhile behind the door, just at that moment glided in on very delicatetiptoe, and coming close up behind the British slave, as he stood in theact of haranguing me, smote him a smart fillip upon the cheek with theback of his fingers, mimicking, at the same time, the outlandish accent ofthe man, and repeating after him into his tinkling ears, the words, _Dromois a sad dog--Dromo is a cunning man, and a close--Dromo would not be soeasily caught as poor Boto_.--"Ha, ha! Master Valerius," then said he tome, "and so you would really take the trouble to ask questions of thisworthy man, when you had it in your power to send for me? I thought it hadnot been for nothing that three persons I could name entered upon acertain alliance--but 'tis all one to the Cretan.--Both Sextus, and you, maymanage your own affairs for yourselves, if such be your pleasure."
I knew not on this whether to be more amazed with the impudence of theCretan, or the confusion of poor Boto, who stood rubbing his cheek with astrangely mingled aspect of sheepishness and sulkiness; but Dromo soon putan end to the affair, by turning round with a face of admirably feignedastonishment to my Briton, and saying, "Good heavens! Boto, are you stillthere? Do you not perceive that your master and I have something to say toeach other in private? Begone, my good man--shall I never be able to renderyou susceptible of the smallest polish?"
These last words being accompanied with a gentle push on the back, soonexpelled poor Boto, who, nevertheless, did not depart without castingtowards me a look of woful appeal over his shoulder. But I perceivingplainly, in the midst of all his frolicsome behaviour, that Dromo hadreally something to say to me; and suspecting, of course, that theinterest of Sextus might be concerned in what he had to say, suffered myslave to withdraw in good earnest. Dromo, after the door was shut, laidhis finger upon his lip, and stood still for a moment in an attitude ofclose attention; but the heavy heels of the reluctant Briton were heardwith great distinctness, lumbering along the marble floor of the gallery;so, being satisfied that there was no eavesdropping in the case, thevarlet seated himself forthwith in a posture of great familiarity on thenether end of my couch, and, to judge from the expression of hiscountenance, seemed evidently to be preparing himself for a disclosure ofsome importance. At length, after not a few winks of much intelligence, itwas thus he began:--"You may hear Boto's story, sir, at any time youplease, and I dare say it will amuse you; but, in the meantime, I mustreally have you attend to me, for, without jesting, things are by no meansin so fair a train as I had thought for my young master; and if somethingeffectual be not speedily discovered, I am really at a loss to think howwe shall be able to get out of our difficulties, in such a manner as maybe either satisfactory to him, or creditable to my management. But you hadbetter get up and dress yourself, and while you are doing so, I will tellyou every thing."
I did as he bade me, and then the Cretan proceeded:--"As I was coming outof the Amphitheatre yesterday, I happened to find myself rubbing shoulderswith a certain old fat Calabrian, whom I had seen before about Rubellia'shouse in the Suburra, and thinking that no harm could possibly come ofbeing civil to him, I began immediately to ask his opinion of thespectacles. I wish you had been there to see how much he was delightedwith the attention I paid him, and how he plumed himself on being admittedto talk on such subjects with such a person as me; for the man himself isbut an ignorant fellow, and seems never to have kept company but with thegrooms and hinds. From less to more, we began to be the greatest friendsin the world; and by the time we got to the Arch, it was evident that wecould not possibly part, without having a cup together to cement theacquaintance. Well, we were just about to dive into one of thewine-cellars there, below the gate-way, when I saw your friend Botostanding by himself in the middle of the street, apparently quite a-gazeand bewildered, and not able to form the smallest guess which way he oughtto take in order to reach home; and being a good-natured fellow, in spiteof all that has been said, I immediately shouted out his name till he wascompelled to hear me, and then beckoned to him to come along with us,which indeed he did without much coaxing."
"Well, Dromo," said I, "and so all your great news is, that you have beenleading my Briton into one of your debauches? In truth, I think you neednot have made such an affectation of mystery withal."--"Stop now," quothhe, cutting me short; "if the slave be too slow, I am sure the master'squickness will make up for it.--Hear me out before you begin commenting;such interruptions would bring the Stagyrite himself to a stand. We weresoon, all three of us, seated in one of those snug little places, which ifyou have not yet seen, you are ignorant of the most comfortable sightwithin all the four walls of Rome,--a quiet cleanly little place,--threegood hassocks upon the floor, a handful of sausages, a plate of dried fishas broad as the shield of Ajax, and a good old fashioned round-belliedjolly jug of Surrentine in the midst of us. I dare say, there were ahundred besides employed in the same way in the house; but we shut thedoor, and were as private as behind the altar of Vesta."--"A temptingscene, Dromo; and what use did you make of your privacy?"--"All in goodtime, Master Valerius; you would have the apple before the egg. We hadscarcely emptied our first jug, ere the conversation between the Calabrianand me took a turn that was not quite unnatural; for slaves, howeverlittle you may trust them, will always be smelling out something of thetruth; and you may be sure, all this visiting, and feasting, and ridingabout in chariots, and sitting together at the Amphitheatre, has not beengoing on, without causing a good deal of talk both in this house and therich widow's. The courtship was of course the subject of our conversation,and I, pretending to know nothing of it myself, except from the commonreport of the slaves about our house, affected to consider it as highlyprobable, that the fat Calabrian might have had much better opportunitiesthan mine of being informed how the affair really stood."
"And did he really seem to have any knowledge about it?" said I.--"Notmuch--not much; but still the man did tell me something that I think mayturn out to be well worth the knowing. 'I am sure,' said I, (by this timeBoto was fast asleep,)--'I am sure, if Rubellia won't have my young master,it won't be for want of presents; for we all know he has already given hera whole casket of rings and bracelets that belonged to his mother, and heis sitting for his picture, which, they say, he is to give herbesides.'--'And _I_ am sure,' quoth the Calabrian in return, 'that if youryoung master don't have my lady, it won't be for want of presents neither;for she is the most generous open-handed lady in the world, and that herworst enemies will allow, although her father be an old rogue, and anusurer, as all the town says he is. No, Dromo,' continued he, 'nor will itbe for want of philtres, nor of charms, nor of any thing that soothsayingcan procure; for, between ourselves, my lady keeps up a constant trafficof late with all that sort of gentry; and what the issue of it all may be,Hecate only knows.' Now, Master Valerius, when I heard him speak ofphiltres and charms, you may be sure I began to quicken up my ears morekeenly than ever."
"Dromo!" said I; "you are not serious. You do not mean surely to make methink that you believe in the efficacy of love-potions, or any suchquackeries?" "Quackeries! do you call philtres quackeries? Why, there wasa girl once gave myself a philtre that kept me raving for sixmonths."--"What sort of a looking girl was she, good Dromo?"--"Bah!" quothhe; "don't expect to jeer me out of memory as well as judgment. Heavensand earth! when did any body ever hear of any body denying the efficacy ofphiltres? What an atheistical sort of barbarians those Britons must be. Iwonder you are not afraid of some evil coming upon you. Remember Dian'shandful; remember the fate of Actaeon!"--"Good Dromo," said I, "I supposeyou also suffered from peeping. But talk seriously; are you yourself adealer in philtres, that you are so anxious I should believe in theirpower? Or what is your meaning?"
"My meaning is this," quoth he, with great ve
hemence,--"it is, that ifRubellia gives Sextus such another philtre as a certain cunning damselgave me, before I left pleasant Crete, to be a drudge and a packhorse herein Rome, where a man may sweat all his life in another's service withoutbeing once thanked for his pains, and perhaps be laid out, look ye, for asupper to the vultures at last, because no body will treat his carcase toa blaze of old sticks,--I say, that if the Lady Rubellia contrives to giveSextus such another philtre as that, the game's up, Master Valerius; andwe may as well set about painting the dead, as try to save him from herclutches. The man's gone--he's as lost as Troy."--"Well, Dromo," said I, forI perceived there was no use in fighting it with him, "and have you notbeen able to hit upon any feasible scheme?"--"Ay, have you come to that atlast? that is just what I have been cudgelling my brains about for thelast twelve hours. But if I do hit upon any thing, I shall needassistance. In such cases, the best judgment can do nothing byitself."--"Fear not, Dromo," quoth I; "if my assistance can do you anygood, you well know you can command it to the utmost."--"Then prepare,"replied the Cretan, rising up with an air of much solemnity--"then preparein good earnest; for, may Cerberus growl upon me, if I don't find out somescheme before another day goes over, and shew you all what stuff I am madeof. To think of entrapping Sextus without consulting Dromo!--No, by CretanJove, she shall not accomplish it--no, not even with a sea of philtres."
"And, in the meantime," said I, "what must Sextus do with himself?"--"Hemust not go near the Suburra; he must remain closely at home; and as fortasting any thing at her house, or any thing that comes from her--byheavens, if he does not take his oath against that--we may as well leavehim to his destiny. If he will but take good care for this one day, Ithink there is every chance something may be hit upon ere the morning. Ihave got my cue, and shall not be idle, I promise you; but I undertakenothing, unless you swear to keep Sextus safe, and at a distance from her,till night-fall."--"Good Dromo," said I, "make yourself easy on that score;it will be a new circumstance indeed, if we find any difficulty inpersuading Sextus to stay a single day away from the Suburra."
"Persuading!" quoth the slave; "who ever heard of such a word aspersuasion at such a crisis as this? I tell you he _must_ be kept away;and if no other plan can be fallen on, I have a great mind to turn the keyon him and his pedagogue both together. I heard them hammering at theirlessons already as I came along--and that puts me in mind that I have avery shrewd notion there is more between that bearded goat of ours andthis Rubellia, than any of us had been suspecting. Unless that Calabrianlies--and I think lying is above his sphere--this old rogue has been oftenerin the Suburra of late than we had any thought of. So help me Hermes! Ibelieve Licinius has been employing him to go his private messages toRubellia--but that is only one insult more, and I shall have my revenge allin a lump."
"I think it very likely," answered I, quietly, "that Licinius may havebeen employing Xerophrastes in some such embassies; and, if I mistake notthe matter, he would feel himself quite as much in his element, trottingalong the Sacred Way, and so forth, on such delicate errands for thefather, as in expounding musty parchments to the son."--"No matter for allthat," quoth Dromo, rubbing his hands; "the more enemies the more glory.Would Miltiades have been pleased had the Spartans arrived?--Leave all tome--take you care only of Sextus, and I am not afraid for any reinforcementthat rascally rhetorician may bring against me."--While he was saying so,the face of the Cretan exhibited symptoms of incipient glee; and heconcluded with snapping his fingers, and uttering a short keen whistle,such as you have heard from the lips of a hunter, when the dogs begin tobay around a thicket.
Seeing his eyes dance with the expectation of some bustling scene, I couldnot help participating, in some measure, in the feelings of the Cretan;and, "Dear Dromo," said I, "I beseech you, if it be possible, let me havea share in whatever you resolve upon."--"Watch well," replied he, "duringthe day, and you shall see what you shall see, when the moon mounts abovethe Coelian, and the hour for grubbing among herbs and bones is come.--Butnow I hear some one coming--it is Licinius."--Dromo, finger on lip, glidedfrom the room. Nor had his well-practised ears deceived him, for hescarcely vanished, before my kinsman entered.
"Valerius," said he, saluting me affectionately, "I thought you wereprobably much fatigued with your spectacles, so I desired that nobodyshould call you this morning; but I met Boto in the hall, and hearing thatyou were astir, I have come up, for I wish a little private conversation.Shall we walk in the eastern portico, till Xerophrastes leaves Sextus atliberty?"
He led the way along the gallery, and in passing, we also heard the deepvoice of the rhetorician resounding among the pillars, and could evencatch a few of the magniloquent phrases with which he was feeding the earsof his pupil. "Ay, ay," says Licinius, "I wish, indeed, it were possibleto inspire the youth with some sense of what is due to the dignity ofprinciple, and how absurd it is to think of gratifying whims at theexpense of duty. But I fear the boy is incorrigible; and, Caius, I amsorry to say, I suspect you have been looking on his errors with acountenance rather of favour and of confirmation, than, as I should haveexpected, of rebuke."
"Licinius," said I, "you know not how much you distress me. I could ratherdie than encourage Sextus in any thing I thought evil; but, indeed, I haveseen nothing to make me imagine him capable of such conduct."
"Come, by Hercules," returned he, "there is no occasion for so many words.I thought it very odd that you went away so soon from the Forum the otherday, considering that you had never been there before; but I thought itdoubly and trebly remarkable that Sextus should have accompanied you, whenthe case in hand affected the affairs of Rubellia. But I have since foundout that it was not the society of old Capito which attracted him--no, myfriend, nor yet the alarm of a thunder storm that detained you at thevilla. In a word, Valerius, I strongly suspect that Sextus is carrying onan intrigue with a young lady whom I never saw, but who, I am quite sure,will never be mistress of a dozen lizards, and that this is the true causeof his reluctance concerning a match, which, to say nothing of thepleasure it would give to me, is the only means by which I can see anyprospect of the young man's fortune being made, and the dignity of hisfamily kept up, after another effigy shall have been added to our hall.Infatuated and headstrong boy! if he owes nothing to himself or to me, isit possible that he can look upon that venerable line of sages and heroes,without feeling shame in the degradation of his own earth-stoopingdesires?"
"Without question," said I, "you allude to the Lady Rubellia, whom, as Ihave heard from various quarters, you are desirous of seeing wedded toSextus."
"Yes, Caius Valerius, it is indeed to her I allude; and it is of theobstacle which--unwittingly, I doubt not--you yourself have been throwing inthe way of that union, that I have now to make my complaint. Not such theservice that I had expected from my kinsman. Rubellia is descended from anoble family, and, both in possession and expectation, her wealth isgreat. Two heavy fines laid upon me by Domitian, and the expense at whichI have maintained my rank among the great patrons of Rome--these thingstogether have impoverished me, and to an extent not altogether convenient.In this boy my hopes were placed; and see now how they are all likely tobe blasted for a dimpled cheek and a pair of wanton eyes!--or rather,indeed, I should say, for the sake of the malignant pleasure that isderived from thwarting my purposes; for, if beauty were what the boywanted, where should he find beauty beyond Rubellia? Perhaps, Caius, Ishould, before this time, have made you acquainted with my intentions frommy own lips. But it is my own foolish indulgence which has made mydegenerate boy quite forget, not only what is the duty of a son, but whatis the power of a father."
"I trust," said I, "there is no need for all this seriousness. Sextus hasonly laid aside the garb of a stripling; it is too much to be despairingof his success in life, only because he is unwilling, at a period soearly, to enter upon a permanent connection. Is it possible, that, if hereally dislike Rubellia, you would wish to see him marry her--only todivorce her, without question, as soon as he should find it po
ssible to doso without inconvenience?"--"Handsome, rich, noble, and almost as young ashimself, why, in the name of all the gods, for what cause should hedivorce Rubellia?"--"Sir," said I, "he loves not Rubellia, nor will everlove her; and if you cause your son to marry this woman, look you well toit, that the unhappiness of both rest not on your head. Handsome, rich,noble, and young she may be; but I am sure, she has neither such a heart,nor such a mind, as should belong to the wife of your Sextus. A luxuriouswoman is Rubellia, and I have seen her find luxury in the contemplation ofblood. Wed not Rubellia to your son."--"Peace, Valerius," he answered;"what boyish nonsense is this?--I _will_ wed Rubellia to my son; and lethim see to it, that he tempts me not farther with his disobedience."
Licinius said these last words in a voice of so much earnestness, that Iknew not well what answer to make to him; but while I was hesitating, oneof the little boys about the house, (I mean the children of the domesticslaves,) said, "If it please my lord, the same senator that was here inthe morning is waiting in the hall."--"Pontius Mamurra!" said the orator,leaving me.
I, for my part, when I heard the name of the visiter, began to understandsomewhat of the channel through which my kinsman had been informed aboutwhat had passed at the Suburban. I had no leisure, however, to reflectlong upon this hint; for I found Sextus waiting for me. "Come," he said,"I was afraid I must set off without you. My father has been looking on methis morning with such an aspect of displeasure as I rarely beforewitnessed in him, and if I defer going to the painter about this likeness,he will be altogether enraged at supper-time. I know very well he meansthe ring, in which it is to be placed, for another present to Rubellia;but notwithstanding, what can I do? Any opposition to him in lessermatters would only tend to bring on some final explanation about the greataffair itself, and that, whether it be weakness in me or not, I as yethave no courage to encounter. The man must be expecting me; and I am sureyou will accompany me, for I have much need of you to keep up my heart.Xerophrastes, indeed, has been desired to go with me; but he will be nocomfort, for I see plainly, from the drift of his harangues, that he isenlisted against me. Dear Caius, I have nobody in the whole world I cantrust to but Dromo and yourself."
He had scarcely said so, when we heard Xerophrastes pacing up and downwith solemn strides in the gallery; so I knew not how to excuse myself,although I was very anxious to have staid at home for another purpose.Sextus had taken my gown from the nail; he threw it over my shouldersbefore I had time to say any thing, and we were soon on our way to hisungrateful destination.
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