The Gladiators. A Tale of Rome and Judæa

by G. J. Whyte-Melville

  CHAPTER V

  ROME

  [Initial M]

  Meanwhile the British slave, unconscious that he was already the object ofValeria's interest and Myrrhina's admiration, was threading his waythrough the crowded streets that adjoined the Forum, enjoying that vaguesense of amusement with which a man surveys a scene of bustle andconfusion that does not affect his immediate concerns. Thanks to thefavour of his master, his time was nearly at his own disposal, and he hadample leisure to observe the busiest scene in the known world, and tocompare it, perhaps, with the peace and simplicity of those early days,which seemed now like the memories of a dream, so completely had theypassed away. The business of the Forum was over: the markets weredisgorging their mingled stream of purveyors, purchasers, and idlelookers-on. The whole population of Rome was hurrying home to dinner, anda motley crowd it was. The citizens themselves, the Plebeians, properly socalled, scarcely formed one half of the swarming assemblage. Slavesinnumerable hurried to and fro, to speed the business or the pleasure oftheir lords; slaves of every colour and of every nation, from theScandinavian giant, with blue eyes and waving yellow locks, to the sturdyEthiopian, thick-lipped, and woolly-haired, the swarthy child of Africa,whose inheritance has been servitude from the earliest ages until now.Many a Roman born was there, too, amongst the servile crowd, aping theappearance and manner of a citizen, but who shrank from a master's frownat home, and who, despite the acquirement of wealth, and even theattainment of power, must die a bondsman as he had lived.

  Not the least characteristic feature of the state of society under theEmpire was the troop of freedmen that everywhere accompanied the person,and swelled the retinue of each powerful patrician. These manumittedslaves were usually bound by the ties of interest as much as gratitude tothe former master, who had now become their patron. Dependent on him inmany cases for their daily food, doled out to them in rations at his door,they were necessarily little emancipated from his authority by theirlately acquired freedom. While the relation of patron and client wasproductive of crying evils in the Imperial City, while the former threwthe shield of his powerful protection over the crimes of the latter, andthe client in return became the willing pander to his patron's vices, itwas the freedman who, more than all others, rendered himself a willingtool to his patrician employer, who yielded unhesitatingly time,affections, probity, and honour itself, to the caprices of his lord. Theyswarmed about the Forum now, running hither and thither with theobsequious haste of the parasite, bent on errands which in too many caseswould scarce have borne the light of day.

  Besides these, a vast number of foreigners, wearing the costumes of theirdifferent countries, hindered the course of traffic as they stood gaping,stupefied by the confusing scene on which they gazed. The Gaul, with hisshort, close-fitting garment; the Parthian, with his conical sheepskincap; the Mede, with his loose silken trousers; the Jew, barefoot and robedin black; the stately Spaniard, the fawning Egyptian, and amongst themall, winding his way wherever the crowd was closest, with perfect ease andself-possession, the smooth and supple Greek. When some great man passedthrough the midst, borne aloft in his litter, or leaning on the shoulderof a favourite slave, and freedmen and clients made a passage for him withthreat, and push, and blow, the latter would invariably miss the Greek tolight on the pate of a humble mechanic, or the shoulders of a sturdybarbarian, while the descendant of Leonidas or Alcibiades would reply inwhining sing-song tones to the verbal abuse, with some biting retort,which was sure to turn the laughter of the crowd on the aggressor.

  If Rome had once overrun and conquered the dominions of her elder sisterin civilisation, the invasion seemed now to be all the other way. With theturn of the tide had come such an overflow of Greek manners, Greekcustoms, Greek morals, and Greek artifice, that the Imperial City wasalready losing its natural characteristics; and the very language was sointerlarded with the vocabulary of the conquered, that it was fastbecoming less Latin than Greek. The Roman ladies, especially, delighted inthose euphonious syllables, which clothed Athenian eloquence in suchmelodious rhythm; and their choicest terms of endearment in the languageof love, were invariably whispered in Greek.

  That supple nation, too, adapting itself to the degradation of slavery andthe indulgence of ease, as it had risen in nobler times to the exigenciesof liberty and the efforts demanded by war, had usurped the greaterportion of art, science, and even power, in Rome. The most talentedpainters and sculptors were Greeks. The most enterprising contractors andengineers were Greeks. Rhetoric and elocution could only be learned in aGreek school, and mathematics, unless studied with Greek letters, must beesteemed confused and useless; the fashionable invalid who objected toconsult a Greek physician deserved to die; and there was but oneastrologer in Rome who could cast a patrician horoscope. Of course he wasa Greek. In the lower walks of criminal industry; in the many iniquitousprofessions called into existence by the luxury of a great city, theGreeks drove a thriving and almost an exclusive trade. Whoever was in mostrepute, as an evil counsellor, a low buffoon, a money-lender, pimp,pander, or parasite, whatever might be his other qualifications, was sureto be a Greek. And many a scrutinising glance was cast by professors ofthis successful nation at the Briton's manly form as he strode through thecrowd, making his way quietly but surely from sheer weight and strength.They followed him with covetous eyes, as they speculated on the variouspurposes to which so much good manhood might be applied. They appraisedhim, so to speak, and took an inventory of his thews and sinews, hislimbs, his stature, and his good looks; but they refrained from accostinghim with importunate questions or insolent proposals, for there was a boldconfident air about him, that bespoke the stout heart and the ready hand.The stamp of freedom had not yet faded from his brow, and he looked likeone who was accustomed to take his own part in a crowd.

  Suddenly a stoppage in the traffic arrested the moving stream, whichswelled in continually to a struggling, eager, vociferating mass. A dray,containing huge blocks of marble, and drawn by several files of oxen, hadbecome entangled with the chariot of a passing patrician, and anothergreat man's litter being checked by the obstruction, much confusion andbad language was the result. Amused with the turmoil, and in no hurry toget home, the British slave stood looking over the heads of the populaceat the irritated and gesticulating antagonists, when a smart blow on theshoulder caused him to wheel suddenly round, prepared to return the injurywith interest. At the same instant a powerful hand dragged him back by thetunic, and a grasp was laid on him, from which he could not shake himselffree, while a rough good-humoured voice whispered in his ear--

  "Softly, lad, softly! Keep hands off Caesar's lictors an' thou be'st notmad in good earnest. These gentry give more than they take, I can promisethee!"

  The speaker was a broad powerful man of middle size, with the chest of aHercules; he held the Briton firmly pinioned in his arms while he spoke,and it was well that he did so, for the lictors were indeed forcing apassage for the Emperor himself, who was proceeding on foot, and as far aswas practicable _incog._, to inspect the fish-market.

  Vitellius shuffled along with the lagging step of an infirm and bloatedold man. His face was pale and flabby, his eye dim, though sparkling atintervals with some little remnant of the ready wit and pliant humour thathad made him the favourite of three emperors ere he himself attained thepurple. Supported by two freedmen, preceded and followed only by a file oflictors, and attended by three or four slaves, Caesar was taking his shortwalk in hopes of acquiring some little appetite for dinner: what localityso favourable for the furtherance of this object as the fish-market, wherethe imperial glutton could feast his eyes, if nothing else, on thechoicest dainties of the deep? He was so seldom seen abroad in Rome, thatthe Briton could not forbear following him with his glance, while his newfriend, relaxing his hold with great caution, whispered once more in hisear--

  "Ay, look well at him, man, and give Jove thanks thou art not an e
mperor.There's a shape for the purple! There's a head to carry a diadem! Well,well, for all he's so white and flabby now, like a Lucrine turbot, hecould drive a chariot once, and hold his own at sword and buckler with thebest of them. They say he can drink as well as ever still. Not that he wasa match for Nero in his best days, even at that game. Ay, ay, they maytalk as they will: we've never had an emperor like _him_ before nor since.Wine, women, shows, sacrifices, wild-beast fights;--a legion of men allengaged in the circus at once! Such a friend as he was to _our_ trade."

  "And that trade?" inquired the Briton good-humouredly enough, now hishands were free: "I think I can guess it without asking too manyquestions."

  "No need to guess," replied the other. "I'm not ashamed of my trade, norof my name neither. Maybe you have heard of Hirpinus, the gladiator?Tuscan born, free Roman citizen, and willing to match himself with any manof his weight, on foot or on horseback, blindfold or half-armed, in or outof a war-chariot, with two swords, sword and buckler, or sword or spear.Any weapon, and every weapon, always excepting the net and the noose.Those I can't bear talking about--to my mind they are not fair fighting.But what need I tell _you_ all about it?" he added, running his eye overthe slave's powerful frame. "I must surely have seen you before. You lookas if you belonged to the Family(2) yourself!"

  The slave smiled, not insensible to the compliment.

  "'Tis a manlier way of getting bread than most of the employments I seepractised in Rome," was his reply, though he spoke more to himself thanhis companion. "A man might die a worse death than in the amphitheatre,"he added meditatively.

  "A worse death!" echoed Hirpinus. "He could scarce die a better! Think ofthe rows of heads one upon another piled up like apples to the veryawnings. Think of the patricians and senators wagering their collars andbracelets, and their sesterces in millions, on the strength of your arm,and the point of your blade. Think of your own vigour and manhood, trainedtill you feel as strong as an elephant, and as lithe as a panther, with anhonest wooden buckler on your arm, and two feet of pliant steel in yourhand, as you defile by Caesar and bid him 'Good-morrow, from those who havecome here to die!' Think of the tough bout with your antagonist, foot tofoot, hand to hand, eye to eye, feeling his blade with your own (why aswordsman, lad, can fence as well in the dark as the daylight!), foilinghis passes, drawing his attack, learning his feints, watching youropportunity; when you catch it at last, in you dash like a wild-cat, andthe guard of your sword rings sharp and true against his breastbone, as hegoes over backwards on the sand!"

  "And if _he_ gets the opportunity first?" asked the slave, interested inspite of himself at the enthusiasm which carried him irresistibly alongwith it. "If your guard is an inch too high, your return a thought tooslow? If you go backwards on the sand, with the hilt at your breastbone,and the two feet of steel in your bosom? How does it feel then?"

  "Faith, lad, you must cross the Styx to have that question fairlyanswered," replied the other. "I have had no such experience yet. When itcomes I shall know how to meet it. But this talking makes a man thirsty,and the sun is hot enough to bake a negro here. Come with me, lad! I knowa shady nook, where we can pierce a skin of wine, and afterwards play agame at quoits, or have a bout of wrestling, to while away the afternoon."

  The slave was nothing loth. Besides the debt of gratitude he owed forpreservation from a serious danger, there was something in his newfriend's rough, good-humoured, and athletic manhood that won on theBriton's favour. Hirpinus, with even more than their fierce courage, hadless than the usual brutality of his class, and possessed besides a sortof quaint and careless good-humour, by no means rare among the athletes ofevery time, which found its way at once to the natural sympathies of theslave. They started off accordingly, on the most amicable terms, in searchof that refreshment which a few hours' exposure to an Italian sun renderedvery desirable; but the crowd had not yet cleared off, and their progresswas necessarily somewhat slow, notwithstanding that the throng ofpassengers gave way readily enough before two such stalwart and athleticforms.

  Hirpinus thought it incumbent on him to take the Briton, as it were, underhis protection, and to point out to him the different objects of interest,and the important personages, to be seen at that hour in the streets ofthe capital, totally irrespective of the fact that his pupil was as wellinstructed on these points as himself. But the gladiator dearly loved alistener, and, truth to tell, was extremely diffuse in his narratives whenhe had got one to his mind. These generally turned on his own physicalprowess, and his deadly exploits in the amphitheatre, which he was by nomeans disposed to underrate. There are some really brave men who are alsoboasters, and Hirpinus was one of them.

  He was in the midst of a long dissertation on the beauties of an encounterfought out between naked combatants, armed only with the sword, and wasexplaining at great length a certain fatal thrust outside his antagonist'sguard, and over his elbow, which he affirmed to be his own invention, andirresistible by any party yet discovered, when the slave felt his gownplucked by a female hand, and turning sharply round was somewhatdisconcerted to find himself face to face with Valeria's waiting-maid.

  "You are wanted," said she unceremoniously, and with an imperious gesture."You are to come to my lady this instant. Make haste, man; she cannotbrook waiting."

  Myrrhina pointed while she spoke to where a closed litter borne aloft byfour tall Liburnian slaves, had stopped the traffic, and already becomethe nucleus of a crowd. A white hand peeped through its curtains, as theslave approached, surprised and somewhat abashed at this unexpectedappeal. Hirpinus looked on with grave approval the while. Arriving closebeneath the litter, of which the curtain was now open, the slave pausedand made a graceful obeisance; then, drawing himself up proudly, stooderect before it, looking unconsciously his best, in the pride of his youthand beauty. Valeria's cheek was paler than usual, and her attitude morelanguid, but her grey eyes sparkled, and a smile played round her mouth asshe addressed him.

  "Myrrhina tells me that you are the man who brought a basket of flowers tomy house this morning from Licinius. Why did you not wait to carry back mysalutations to my kinsman?"

  The colour mounted to the slave's brow as he thought of Automedon'sinsolence, but he only replied humbly, "Had I known it was your wish,lady, I had been standing in your porch till now."

  She marked his rising colour, and attributed it to the effect of her owndazzling beauty.

  "Myrrhina knew you at once in the crowd," said she graciously; "and indeedyours is a face and figure not easily mistaken in Rome. I should recogniseyou myself anywhere now."

  She paused, expecting a suitable reply, but the slave, albeit notinsensible to the compliment, only blushed again and was silent. Valeria,meanwhile, whose motives in summoning him to her litter had been in thefirst instance of simple curiosity to see the stalwart barbarian who hadso excited Myrrhina's admiration, and whom that sharp-sighted damsel hadrecognised in an instant amongst the populace, now found herself pleasedand interested by the quiet demeanour and noble bearing of this foreignslave. She had always been susceptible to manly beauty, and here shebeheld it in its noblest type. She was rapacious of admiration in allquarters; and here she could not but flatter herself she gathered anundoubted tribute to the power of her charms. She owned all a woman'sinterest in anything that had a spice of mystery or romance, and a woman'sunfailing instinct in discovering high birth and gentle breeding underevery disguise; and here she found a delightful puzzle in the manner andappearance of her kinsman's messenger, whose position seemed so atvariance with his looks. She had never in her life laid the slightestrestraint on her thoughts, and but little on her actions--she had neverleft a purpose unfulfilled, nor a wish ungratified--but a strange and newfeeling, at which even her courageous nature quailed, seemed springing upin her heart while she gazed with half-closed eyes at the Briton, andhesitated to confess, even to herself, that she had never seen such a manas this in her life before. It was in a softened tone that she againaddressed him, moving on her couch to sh
ow an ivory shoulder and a roundedarm to the best advantage.

  "You are a confidential servant of my kinsman's? You are attached to hisperson, and always to be found in his household?" she asked, more with aview of detaining him than for any fixed purpose.

  "I would give my life for Licinius!" was the prompt and spirited reply.

  "But you are gentle born," she resumed, with increasing interest; "howcame you in your present dress, your present station? Licinius has nevermentioned you to me. I do not even know your name. What is it?"

  "Esca," answered the slave proudly, and looking the while anything but aslave.

  "Esca!" she repeated, dwelling on the syllables, with a slow soft cadence;"Esca! 'Tis none of our Latin names; but that I might have known already.Who and what are you?"

  There was something of defiance in the melancholy tone with which heanswered--

  "A prince in my own country, and a chief of ten thousand. A barbarian anda slave in Rome."

  She gave him her hand to kiss, with a gesture of pity that was almost acaress, and then, as though ashamed of her own condescension, bade theLiburnians angrily to "go on."

  Esca looked long and wistfully after the litter as it disappeared; butHirpinus, clapping him on the back with his heavy hand, burst into ahearty laugh while he declared--

  "'Tis a clear case, comrade. 'Came, saw, and conquered,' as the greatsoldier said. I have known it a hundred times, but always to men of musclelike thee and me. By Castor and Pollux! lad, thou art in luck. Ay, ay,'tis always so. She takes thee for a gladiator, and they'll look atnothing but a gladiator now. Come on, brother; we'll drink a cup to everyletter of her name!"