A Friend of Cæsar: A Tale of the Fall of the Roman Republic. Time, 50-47 B.C.

by William Stearns Davis

  Chapter II

  The Upper Walks of Society

  I

  It was very early in the morning. From the streets, far below, a dullrumbling was drifting in at the small, dim windows. On the couch,behind some faded curtains, a man turned and yawned, grunted andrubbed his eyes. The noise of the heavy timber, stone, and merchandisewagons hastening out of the city before daybreak,[25] jarred the room,and made sleep almost impossible. The person awakened swore quietly tohimself in Greek.

  [25] No teaming was allowed in Rome by day.

  "_Heracles!_ Was ever one in such a city! What malevolent spiritbrought me here? Throat-cutting on the streets at night; highwaymen inevery foul alley; unsafe to stir at evening without an armed band! Nopolice worth mentioning; freshets every now and then; fires every dayor else a building tumbles down. And then they must wake me up at anunearthly hour in the morning. Curses on me for ever coming near theplace!" And the speaker rolled over on the bed, and shook himself,preparatory to getting up.

  "Bah! Can these Roman dogs never learn that power is to be used, notabused? Why don't they spend some of their revenues to level theseseven hills that shut off the light, and straighten and widen theirabominable, ill-paved streets, and keep houses from piling up as if tostorm Olympus? Pshaw, I had better stop croaking, and be up andabout."

  The speaker sat up in bed, and clapped his hands. Into the ill-lightedand unpretentiously furnished room came a tall, bony, ebon-skinned oldEthiopian, very scantily attired, who awaited the wishes of hismaster.

  "Come, Sesostris," said the latter, "get out my best_himation_[26]--the one with the azure tint. Give me a clean_chiton_,[27] and help me dress."

  [26] Greek outer mantle.

  [27] Greek under garment.

  And while the servant bustled briskly about his work, Pratinas, forsuch was his lord's name, continued his monologue, ignoring thepresence of his attendant. "Not so bad with me after all. Six yearsago to-day it was I came to Rome, with barely an obol of ready money,to make my fortune by my wits. Zeus! But I can't but say I'vesucceeded. A thousand sesterces here and five hundred there, and nowand then a better stroke of fortune--politics, intrigues, gambling;all to the same end. And now?--oh, yes, my 'friends' would say I amvery respectable, but quite poor--but they don't know how I haveeconomized, and how my account stands with Sosthenes the banker atAlexandria. My old acquaintance with Lucius Domitius was of some use.A few more months of this life and I am away from this beastly Rome,to enjoy myself among civilized people."

  Pratinas went over to a large wooden chest with iron clasps, unlockedit, and gazed for a moment inside with evident satisfaction. "Thereare six good talents in there," he remarked to himself, "and thenthere is Artemisia."

  He had barely concluded this last, hardly intelligible assertion, whenthe curtain of the room was pushed aside, and in came a short, plump,rosy-faced little maiden of twelve, with a clearly chiselled Greekprofile and lips as red as a cherry. Her white chiton was mussed and atrifle soiled; and her thick black hair was tied back in a low knot,so as to cover what were two very shapely little ears. All in all, shepresented a very pretty picture, as the sunlight streamed over her,when she drew back the hangings at the window.

  "Good morning, Uncle Pratinas," she said sweetly.

  "Good morning, Artemisia, my dear," replied the other, giving herround neck a kiss, and a playful pinch. "You will practise on yourlyre, and let Sesostris teach you to sing. You know we shall go backto Alexandria very soon; and it is pleasant there to have someaccomplishments."

  "And must you go out so early, uncle?" said the girl. "Can't you staywith me any part of the day? Sometimes I get very lonely."

  "Ah! my dear," said Pratinas, smoothly, "if I could do what I wished,I would never leave you. But business cannot wait. I must go and seethe noble Lucius Calatinus on some very important political matters,which you could not understand. Now run away like a good girl, anddon't become doleful."

  Artemisia left the room, and Pratinas busied himself about the finetouches of his toilet. When he held the silver mirror up to his face,he remarked to himself that he was not an unhandsome man. "If I didnot have to play the philosopher, and wear this thick, hot beard,[28]I would not be ashamed to show my head anywhere." Then while heperfumed himself with oil of saffron out of a little onyx bottle, hewent on:--

  [28] At an age when respectable men were almost invariably smooth shaven, the philosophers wore flowing beards, as a sort of professional badge.

  "What dogs and gluttons these Romans are! They have no real taste forart, for beauty. They cannot even conduct a murder, save in a bunglingway. They have to call in us Hellenes to help them. Ha! ha! this isthe vengeance for Hellas, for the sack and razing of Corinth and allthe other atrocities! Rome can conquer with the sword; but we Greeks,though conquered, can, unarmed, conquer Rome. How these Italians canwaste their money! Villas, statues, pretty slaves, costly vases, andtables of mottled cypress,[29] oysters worth their weight in gold, andI know not what else! And I, poor Pratinas, the Greek, who lives in anupper floor of a Subura house at only two thousand sesterces rental,find in these noble Roman lords only so much plunder. Ha! ha! Hellas,thou art avenged!"

  [29] A "fad" of this time. Such tables often cost $20,000.

  And gathering his mantle about him, he went down the several flightsof very rickety stairs, and found himself in the buzzing street.

  II

  The Romans hugged a fond belief that houses shut out from sunlight andair were extremely healthy. If such were the fact, there should havebeen no sickness in a great part of the capital. The street in whichPratinas found himself was so dark, that he was fain to wait till hiseyes accommodated themselves to the change. The street was no widerthan an alley, yet packed with booths and hucksters,--sellers ofboiled peas and hot sausage, and fifty other wares. On the worthyHellene pressed, while rough German slaves or swarthy Africans jostledagainst him; the din of scholars declaiming in an adjoining schooldeafened him; a hundred unhappy odors made him wince. Then, as hefought his way, the streets grew a trifle wider; as he approached theForum the shops became more pretentious; at last he reached hisdestination in the aristocratic quarter of the Palatine, and pausedbefore a new and ostentatious mansion, in whose vestibule was swarminga great bevy of clients, all come in the official calling costume--aponderous toga--to pay their respects to the great man. But as theinner door was pushed aside by the vigilant keeper, all the rest ofthe crowd were kept out till Pratinas could pass within.

  The atrium of the house was a splendid sight, with its veined marblepillars, mosaic floor, bubbling fountain, choice frescoes, andexpensive furniture upholstered in Tyrian purple. A little in the rearof this gorgeous room was seated in a high armchair the individual whoboasted himself the lord of this establishment, Lucius AtiliusCalatinus. He was a large, coarse man, with a rough, bull-dog face andstraight red hair. He had been drinking heavily the night before, andhis small bluish eyes had wide dark circles beneath them, and hisbreath showed strongly the garlic with which he had seasoned the breadand grapes of his early lunch. He was evidently very glad to see hisGreek visitor, and drove the six large, heavily gemmed rings which hewore on one of his fat fingers, almost into the other's hand when heshook it.

  "Well met, Pratinas!" was his salutation. "Tell me, is that littleaffair of yours settled? Have you stopped the mouth of that beastlyfellow, Postumus Pyrgensis, who said that I was a base upstart, withno claim to my gentile name, and a bad record as a tax farmer inSpain, and therefore should not be elected tribune[30]?"

  [30] The ten tribunes had power to convene the people and Senate, propose laws and "veto" the actions of other magistrates.

  "I have stopped him," said Pratinas, with a little cough. "But it wasexpensive. He stuck out for ten thousand sesterces."

  "Oh, cheaply off," said Calatinus, laughing. "I will give you mycheque on Flaccus the banker. But I want to know about the othermatter. Can you make sure of the votes of the Suburana tribe? Have yous
een Autronius?"

  "I have seen him," said Pratinas, dryly.

  "And he said?"

  "Twenty thousand sesterces for him to deposit with trustees[31] untilthe election is over. Then he as go-between[32] will make sure of amajority of the tribesmen, and distribute to them the money if allgoes well at the _comitia_.[33] It was the best bargain I could make;for Autronius really controls the tribe, and some one might outbid us."

  [31] _Sequestres_.

  [32] _Interpres_.

  [33] Assembly of the Roman tribes for election.

  "All right," broke out Calatinus with a laugh, "another cheque onFlaccus."

  "One thing else," said Pratinas; "I must have a little money to shutup any complaints that those ridiculous anti-bribery Licinian andPompeian Laws are being broken. Then there is my fee."

  "Oh, yes," replied the other, not to be daunted in his good humour,"I'll give you fifty thousand in all. Now I must see this rabble."

  And the mob of clients swept up to the armchair, grasping after thegreat man's hand, and raining on him their _aves_, while some daringmortals tried to thrust in a kiss.

  Pratinas drew back and watched the crowd with a smile half cynical,half amused. Some of the visitors were regular hangers-on, who perhapsexpected an invitation to dine; some were seekers of patronage; somehad an eye to political preferment, a few were real acquaintances ofCalatinus or came on some legitimate business. Pratinas observed threefriends waiting to speak with Calatinus, and was soon in conversation.

  The first of the trio was known as Publius Gabinius, who was by farthe oldest. Coarse-featured, with broken complexion, it needed but aglance to proclaim him as gifted with no other distinctions than thoseof a hard drinker, fast liver, and the owner of an attenuatedconscience. Servius Flaccus, the second, was of a different type. Hewas languid; spirited only when he railed at a slave who brushedagainst his immaculate toga. The frills on his robes made him almostfeminine; and he spoke, even in invective, in a soft, lisping voice.Around him floated the aroma of countless rare unguents, that made hiscoming known afar off. His only aim in life was evidently to getthrough it with as little exertion of brain or muscle as was possible.The third friend was unlike the others. Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbusclearly amounted to more than either of his companions. A constantworship of three very popular gods of the day--Women, Wine, andGaming--with the other excitements of a dissipated life, had ruined afine fair complexion. As it was, he had the profile of a handsome,affable man; only the mouth was hard and sensual, and his skin wasfaded and broken. He wore a little brown beard carefully trimmedaround his well-oiled chin after the manner of Roman men of fashion;and his dark hair was crimped in regular steps or gradations, partingin the middle and arranged on both sides like a girl's.[34]

  [34] Suet., "Nero," 51.

  "Good morning, Pratinas!" said Lucius, warmly, taking the Greek'shand. "How glad we are to find you here. I wanted to ask you around toMarcus Laeca's to-night; we think he will give something of a feast,and you must see my latest sweetheart--Clyte! She is a little pearl. Ihave had her head cut in intaglio on this onyx; is she not pretty?"

  "Very pretty," said Pratinas, looking at the engraving on the ring."But perhaps it is not right for me, a grave philosopher, to go toyour banquet."

  "How (h)absurd! (H)of c(h)ourse you c(h)an!" lisped Flaccus, whoaffected Greek so far as to aspirate every word beginning with avowel, and to change every _c_ into a _ch_.

  "Well," said Pratinas, laughing, for he was a dearly loved favouriteof all these gilded youth, "I will see! And now Gabinius is invitingCalatinus also, and we are dispersing for the morning."

  "Alas," groaned Ahenobarbus, "I must go to the Forum to plead withthat wretch Phormio, the broker, to arrange a new loan."

  "And I to the Forum, also," added Calatinus, coming up, "to continuethis pest of a canvass for votes."

  The clients fell into line behind Calatinus like a file of soldiers,but before Pratinas could start away with the other friends, aslave-boy came running out from the inner house, to say that "the LadyValeria would be glad of his company in her boudoir." The Greek bowedhis farewells, then followed the boy back through the court of theperistylium.[35]

  [35] An inner private court back of the atrium.

  III

  The dressing room occupied by Valeria--once wife of Sextus Drusus andnow living with Calatinus as her third husband in about fouryears--was fitted up with every luxury which money, and a taste whichcarried refinement to an extreme point, could accomplish. The wallswere bright with splendid mythological scenes by really good artists;the furniture itself was plated with silver; the rugs weremagnificent. The mistress of this palatial abode was sitting in a loweasy-chair, holding before her a fairly large silver mirror. She worea loose gown of silken texture, edged to an ostentatious extent withpurple. Around her hovered Arsinoe and Semiramis, two handsome Greekslave-girls, who were far better looking than their owner, inasmuch astheir complexions had never been ruined by paints and ointments. Theywere expert hairdressers, and Valeria had paid twenty-five thousandsesterces for each of them, on the strength of their proficiency inthat art, and because they were said to speak with a pure Attic Greekaccent. At the moment they were busy stripping off from the lady'sface a thick layer of dried enamel that had been put on the nightbefore.

  Had Valeria been willing, she might have feared no comparison with hermaids; for from a merely sensuous standpoint, she would have beenreckoned very beautiful. She had by nature large brown eyes, luxuriantbrown hair, and what had been a clear brunette skin, and well-roundedand regular features. But her lips were curled in hard, haughty lines,her long eyelashes drooped as though she took little interest in life;and, worse than all, to satisfy the demands of fashion, she hadbleached her hair to a German blonde, by a process ineffective andinjurious. The lady was just fuming to herself over a gray hairArsinoe had discovered, and Arsinoe went around in evident fear lestValeria should vent her vexation on her innocent ministers.

  Over in one corner of the room, on a low divan, was sitting astrange-looking personage. A gaunt, elderly man clothed in a verydingy Greek himation, with shaggy grey hair, and an enormous beardthat tumbled far down his breast. This personage was Pisander,Valeria's "house-philosopher," who was expected to be always at herelbow pouring into her ears a rain of learned lore. For this worthylady (and two thousand years later would she not be attending lectureson Dante or Browning?) was devoted to philosophy, and loved to hearthe Stoics[36] and Epicureans expound their varying systems of thecosmos. At this moment she was feasting her soul on Plato. Pisanderwas reading from the "Phaidros," "They might have seen beauty shiningin brightness, when the happy band, following in the train of Zeus (aswe philosophers did; or with the other gods, as others did), saw avision, and were initiated into most blessed mysteries, which wecelebrated in our state of innocence; and having no feeling of evilsyet to come; beholding apparitions, innocent and simple and calm andhappy as in a mystery; shining in pure light; pure ourselves, and notyet enchained in that living tomb which we carry about, now that weare imprisoned in the body ..."

  [36] The opponents of the Epicureans; they nobly antagonized the mere pursuit of pleasure held out as the one end of life by the Epicurean, and glorified duty.

  "Pratinas, to see her ladyship!" bawled a servant-boy[37] at thedoorway, very unceremoniously interrupting the good man and hislearnedly sublime lore. And Pratinas, with the softest and sweetest ofhis Greek smiles, entered the room.

  [37] _Cubicularius_.

  "Your ladyship does me the honour," he began, with an extremelydeferential salutation.

  "Oh, my dear Pratinas," cried Valeria, in a language she called Greek,seizing his hand and almost embracing him, "how delighted I am to seeyou! We haven't met since--since yesterday morning. I did so want tohave a good talk with you about Plato's theory of the separateexistence of ideas. But first I must ask you, have you heard whetherthe report is true that Terentia, Caius Glabrio's wife, has run offwith a gladia
tor?"

  "So Gabinius, I believe," replied Pratinas, "just told me. And I heardsomething else. A great secret. You must not tell."

  "Oh! I am dying to know," smirked Valeria.

  "Well," said the Greek, confidentially, "Publius Silanus has divorcedhis wife, Crispia. 'She went too much,' he says, 'with youngPurpureo.'"

  "You do not say so!" exclaimed the lady. "I always knew that wouldhappen! Now tell me, don't you think this perfume of iris is delicate?It's in that little glass scent bottle; break the neck.[38] I shalluse it in a minute. I have just had some bottles sent up from Capua.Roman perfumes are so vulgar!"

  [38] To let out the ointment. Capua was a famed emporium for perfumes and like wares.

  "I fear," said Pratinas, doing as bidden, and testing the essence withevident satisfaction, "that I have interrupted your philosophicalstudies." And he glanced at Pisander, who was sitting lonesome andoffended in his corner.

  "Oh! not in the least," ran on Valeria; "but though I know you areEpicurean, surely you enjoy Plato?"

  "Certainly," said Pratinas, with dramatic dignity, "I suck the sweetsfrom the flowers left us by all the wise and good. Epicurean though Iam, your ladyship must permit me to lend you a copy of an essay I havewith me, by that great philosopher, the Stoic Chrysippos,[39] althoughI cannot agree with all his teachings; and this copy of Panaitios, theEclectic's great _Treatise on Duty_, which cannot fail to edify yourladyship." And he held out the two rolls.

  [39] Born 180 B.C.

  "A thousand thanks," said Valeria, languidly, "hand them to Pisander.I will have him read them. A little more white lead, Arsinoe, I am tootanned; make me paler. Just run over the veins of my temples with atouch of blue paint. Now a tint of antimony on my eyelids."

  "Your ladyship seems in wonderfully good spirits this morning,"insinuated Pratinas.

  "Yes," said Valeria, with a sigh, "I endure the woes of life as shouldone who is consoled by philosophy."

  "Shall I continue the Plato?" edged in poor Pisander, who was raginginwardly to think that Pratinas should dare to assume the name of a"lover of learning."

  "When you are needed, I can tell you," snapped Valeria, sharply, atthe feeble remonstrance. "Now, Semiramis, you may arrange my hair."

  The girl looked puzzled. To tell the truth, Valeria was speaking in atongue that was a babel of Greek and Latin, although she fondlyimagined it to be the former, and Semiramis could hardly understandher.

  "If your ladyship will speak in Latin," faltered the maid.

  "Speak in Latin! Speak in Latin!" flared up Valeria. "Am I deceived?Are you not Greeks? Are you some ignorant Italian wenches who can'tspeak anything but their native jargon? Bah! You've misplaced a curl.Take that!" And she struck the girl across the palms, with the flat ofher silver mirror. Semiramis shivered and flushed, but said nothing.

  "Do I not have a perfect Greek pronunciation?" said the lady, turningto Pratinas. "It is impossible to carry on a polite conversation inLatin."

  "I can assure your ladyship," said the Hellene, with still anotherbland smile, "that your pronunciation is something exceedinglyremarkable."

  Valeria was pacified, and lay back submitting to her hairdressers[40],while Pratinas, who knew what kind of "philosophy" appealed most tohis fair patroness, read with a delicate yet altogether admirablevoice, a number of scraps of erotic verse that he said friends hadjust sent on from Alexandria.

  [40] _Ornatrices_.

  "Oh! the shame to call himself a philosopher," groaned the neglectedPisander to himself. "If I believed in the old gods, I would invokethe Furies upon him."

  But Valeria was now in the best of spirits. "By the twoGoddesses,"[41] she swore, "what charming sentiments you Greeks canexpress. Now I think I look presentable, and can go around and seePapiria, and learn about that dreadful Silanus affair. Tell Agias tobring in the cinnamon ointment. I will try that for a change. It is inthe murrhine[42] vase in the other room."

  [41] Demeter and Persephone, a Greek woman's oath.

  [42] A costly substance, probably porcelain agate.

  Iasus the serving-boy stepped into the next apartment, and gave theorder to one of his fellow slaves. A minute later there was a crash.Arsinoe, who was without, screamed, and Semiramis, who thrust her headout the door, drew it back with a look of dismay.

  "What has happened?" cried Valeria, startled and angry.

  Into the room came Arsinoe, Iasus, and a second slave-boy, awell-favoured, intelligent looking young Greek of about seventeen. Hisruddy cheeks had turned very pale, as had those of Iasus.

  "What has happened?" thundered Valeria, in a tone that showed that asorry scene was impending.

  The slaves fell on their knees; cowered, in fact, on the rugs at thelady's feet.

  "_A! A! A!_ Lady! Mercy!" they all began in a breath. "The murrhinavase! It is broken!"

  "Who broke it?" cried their mistress, casting lightning glances fromone to another.

  Now the truth had been, that while Agias was coming through a doorcovered with a curtain, carrying the vase, Iasus had carelesslyblundered against him and caused the catastrophe. But there had beenno other witnesses to the accident; and when Iasus saw that hismistress's anger would promptly descend on somebody, he had not themoral courage to take the consequences of his carelessness. Whatamounted to a frightful crime was committed in an instant.

  "Agias stumbled and dropped the vase," said Iasus, telling the truth,but not the whole truth.

  "Send for Alfidius the _lorarius_,"[43] raged Valeria, who, with thepromptness that characterizes a certain class of women, jumped at aconclusion and remained henceforth obstinate. "This shall not happenagain! Oh! my vase! my vase! I shall never get another one like it! Itwas one of the spoils of Mithridates, and"--here her eye fell onAgias, cringing and protesting his innocence in a fearful agony.

  [43] Whipper; many Roman houses had such a functionary, and he does not seem to have lacked employment.

  "Stand up, boy! Stop whining! Of course you broke the vase. Who elsehad it? I will make you a lesson to all the slaves in my house. Theyneed one badly. I will get another serving-boy who will be morecareful."

  Agias was deathly pale; the beads of sweat stood out on his forehead;he grasped convulsively at the hem of his mistress's robe, andmurmured wildly of "mercy! mercy!" Pratinas stood back with hisimperturbable smile on his face; and if he felt the least pity for hisfellow-countryman, he did not show it.

  "Alfidius awaits the mistress," announced Semiramis, with tremblinglips.

  Into the room came a brutish, hard-featured, shock-headed man, with alarge scar, caused by branding, on his forehead. He carried a shortrope and scourge,[44]--a whip with a short handle to which wereattached three long lashes, set at intervals with heavy bits ofbronze. He cast one glance over the little group in the room, and hisdull piglike eyes seemed to light up with a fierce glee, as hecomprehended the situation.

  [44] _Flagellum_.

  "What does your ladyship wish?" he growled.

  "Take this wretched boy," cried Valeria, spurning Agias with her foot;"take him away. Make an example of him. Take him out beyond the PortaEsquilina and whip him to death. Let me never see him again."

  Pisander sprang up in his corner, quivering with righteous wrath.

  "What is this?" he cried. "The lad is not guilty of any real crime. Itwould be absurd to punish a horse for an action like his, and a slaveis as good as a horse. What philosopher could endure to see such anoutrage?"

  Valeria was too excited to hear him. Pratinas coolly took theperturbed philosopher round the waist, and by sheer force seated himin a chair.

  "My friend," he said calmly, "you can only lose your place byinterfering; the boy is food for the crows already. Philosophy shouldteach you to regard little affairs like this unmoved."

  Before Pisander could remonstrate further Alfidius had caught up Agiasas if he had been an infant, and carried him, while moaning andpleading, out of the room. Iasus was still trembling. He was not aknave--simply
unheroic, and he knew that he had committed the basestof actions. Semiramis and Arsinoe were both very pale, but spoke nevera word. Arsinoe looked pityingly after the poor boy, for she had grownvery fond of his bright words and obliging manners. For some minutesthere was, in fact, perfect silence in the boudoir.

  Alfidius carried his victim out into the slaves' quarters in the rearof the house; there he bound his hands and called in the aid of anassistant to help him execute his mistress's stern mandate.

  Agias had been born for far better things than to be a slave. Hisfather had been a cultured Alexandrine Greek, a banker, and had givenhis young son the beginnings of a good education. But the rascality ofa business partner had sent the father to the grave bankrupt, the sonto the slave-market to satisfy the creditors. And now Alfidius and hismyrmidon bound their captive to a furca, a wooden yoke passing downthe back of the neck and down each arm. The rude thongs cut the fleshcruelly, and the wretches laughed to see how the delicate boy writhedand faltered under the pain and the load.

  "Ah, ha! my fine _Furcifer_,"[45] cried Alfidius, when this work wascompleted. "How do you find yourself?"

  [45] Furca-bearer, a coarse epithet.

  "Do you mock at me, you '_three letter man_'?" retorted Agias in grimdespair, referring cuttingly to FVR[46] branded on Alfidius'sforehead.

  [46] Thief. Branding was a common punishment for slaves.

  "So you sing, my pretty bird," laughed the executioner. "I think youwill croak sorrowfully enough before long. Call me '_man of letters_'if you will; to-night the dogs tear that soft skin of yours, while myhide is sound. Now off for the Porta Esquilina! Trot along with you!"and he swung his lash over the wretched boy's shoulders.

  Agias was led out into the street. He was too pained and numbed togroan, resist, or even think and fear. The thongs might well have beensaid to press his mind as much as his skin.