CHAPTER IV.
SCIPIO.
The old king's body was roughly embalmed, in order to give some timebefore the celebration of the funeral. This was a more splendid andimpressive ceremony than had ever been witnessed in that region. Thenews of Masinissa's death had been carried far into the interiorwith that strange, almost incredible rapidity with which greattidings commonly travel in countries that have no regular means ofcommunication. The old man had been one of the most prominent figures inNorthern Africa for a space more than equal to an ordinary lifetime. Norhad he been one of the rulers who shut themselves up in their palaces,and are known, not in their persons, but by their acts. His long lifehad been spent, one might say, in the saddle. There was not a chief inthe whole region that had not met him, either as friend or as foe. Manyhad heard from their fathers or grandfathers the traditions of his craftas a ruler and his prowess as a warrior, and now they came in throngs topay him the last honours. From the slopes of the Atlas range far to thewest, and from the south as far as the edge of what is now called theAlgerian Sahara, came the desert chiefs, some of them men who had neverbeen seen within the walls of a city. For that day, at least, weresuspended all the feuds of the country, many and deadly as they were. Itwas the greatest, as it was the last honour that could be paid to thegreat chief who had done so much to join these warring atoms into aharmonious whole.
The bier was carried by representatives of the states which had ownedthe late king's sway. Behind it walked his three sons; these again werefollowed by the splendid array of the war-elephants with their gorgeoustrappings. The wise beasts, whom the degenerate successors of the oldAfrican races have never been able to tame,[6] seemed to feel the natureof the occasion, and walked with slow step and downcast mien. Behind theelephants came rank after rank what seemed an almost interminablecavalcade of horsemen. The procession was finished by detachments ofRoman troops, both infantry and cavalry, a striking contrast, with theirregular equipment and discipline, to the wild riders from the plains andhills of the interior.
The funeral over, there was a great banquet, a scene of wild anduproarious festivity--a not unnatural reaction from the enforced gravityof the morning's proceedings. Cleanor, who had the sober habits whichbelonged to the best type of Greeks, took the first opportunity thatcourtesy allowed of withdrawing from the revel.
He made his way to a secluded spot which he had discovered in the wildgarden or park attached to the palace, and threw himself down on theturf, near a little waterfall. The fatigues of the day, for he had takena great part in the ordering of the morning's ceremonial, and theexhausting heat of the banqueting hall had predisposed him to sleep, andthe lulling murmur of the water completed the charm.
When he awoke, he found that he was no longer alone. A stranger in Romandress was standing by, and looking down upon him with a kindly smile.When the young Greek had collected his thoughts, he remembered that hehad already seen and been impressed by the new-comer's features andbearing. Then it dawned upon him that he was the officer in command ofthe detachment of Roman soldiers that had been present at the obsequiesof the king.
And, indeed, the man was not one to be hastily passed over, or lightlyforgotten. In the full vigour of manhood--he was just about to completehis thirty-seventh year--he presented a rare combination of strength andrefinement. His face had the regularity and fine chiselling of the Greektype, the nose, however, having something of the aquiline form, which isso often one of the outward characteristics of military genius. Thebeauty of the features was set off by the absence of moustache andbeard, a fashion then making its way in Italy, but still uncommonelsewhere. To the Greek it at once suggested the familiar artisticconception of the beardless Apollo.
But the eyes were the most remarkable feature of the face. Theyexpressed with a rare force, as the occasion demanded, kindliness, apenetrating intelligence, or a righteous indignation against evil. Butover and above these expressions, they had from time to time a look ofinspiration. They seemed to see something that was outside and beyondmortal limits. In after years it was often said of Scipio--my readerswill have guessed that I am speaking of Scipio--that he talked with thegods. Ordinary observers did not perceive, or did not understand it. Toa keen and sensitive nature, such as Cleanor's, it appealed with a forcethat may almost be called irresistible. All this did not reveal itselfimmediately to the young man, but he felt at once, as no one ever failedto feel, the inexplicable charm of Scipio's personality.
"So you too," said the Roman, "have escaped from the revellers?"
Cleanor made a movement as if to rise.
"Nay," said the other, "do not disturb yourself. Let me find a place byyou;" and he seated himself on the grass. "What a home for a naiad isthis charming little spring! But you will say that a Roman has nobusiness to be talking of naiads. It is true, perhaps. Our hills, ourstreams, our oaks have no such presences in them. We have borrowed themfrom you. Our deities are practical. We have a goddess that makes thebutter to come in the churn, curdles the milk for the cheese, and helpsthe cow to calve. There is not a function or an employment that has notgot its patron or patroness. But we have not peopled the world of naturewith the gracious and beautiful presences which your poets haveimagined. Nor, I fancy," he added with a smile, "have your Africanfriends done so."
Cleanor, who would in any case have been too courteous to show to acasual stranger the hostility which he cherished against the Romannation, felt at once the charm of the speaker's manner. He was struck,too, by the purity of the Roman's Greek accent, and by the elegance ofhis language, with which no fault could have been found except, perhaps,that it was more literary than colloquial. He laughingly acknowledgedthe compliment which the Roman had paid to the poetical genius of hiscountrymen.
A brisk conversation on literary topics followed. Cleanor, who wasof a studious turn, had spent a year at Athens, listening to thephilosophical teachers who were the successors of Plato at the Academy,and another year at Rhodes, then the most famous rhetorical school inthe world. Scipio, on the other hand, was one of the best-read men ofhis age. He was a soldier and a politician, and had distinguishedhimself in both capacities, but his heart was given to letters. Inprivate life he surrounded himself with the best representatives ofGreek and Roman culture. He now found in the young Greek, with whosemelancholy history he was acquainted, a congenial spirit. Cleanor, onthe other hand, who had something of the Greek's readiness to look downupon all outsiders as barbarians, was astonished to see how wide and howdeep were the attainments of his new acquaintance.
The two thus brought together had many opportunities of improving theacquaintance thus begun. Scipio had to carry out the details of thedivision of royal functions mentioned in my last chapter. This was not athing to be done in a day. The three brothers accepted the principlereadily enough, though they felt that the one to whom the army had beenallotted had the lion's share of power. But when the principles came tobe applied there were endless jealousies and differences of opinion. Itrequired all Scipio's tact and personal influence to keep the peaceunbroken.
When this complicated business was finished, or at least put in a fairway of being finished, an untoward event cut short Scipio's sojourn inAfrica. Two new commanders came out to take charge of the Roman armybefore Carthage. Scipio knew them to be rash and incompetent, and wasunwilling to incur the responsibility of serving under them. Accordinglyhe asked for permission to resign his command--he held the rank oftribune.[7] The consuls, on the other hand, were not a little jealous oftheir subordinate's reputation and, above all, of his name. A Scipio atCarthage had a prestige which no one else could hope to rival, and theywere glad to get rid of him.
This interruption of an acquaintance which was rapidly ripening intofriendship had an important bearing on Cleanor's life. If anyone couldhave reconciled him to Rome, Scipio was the man. Scipio gone, the oldfeelings, only too well justified as they were, revived in full force.Hostility to Rome became, indeed, the absorbing passion of his life. Itwas a passion, howev
er, which he concealed with the finesse natural tohis race. For the present his purpose could, he conceived, be betterserved outside the walls of Carthage than within them. Accordingly heaccepted an offer from Mastanabal that he should undertake the duties ofa private secretary.
FOOTNOTES:
6: It is the Asiatic elephant only that has been domesticated in modern times, and taught to utilize his strength in the service of man.
7: About equivalent to a colonel in our army. There were five tribunes in the legion or brigade, and these commanded in turn.
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