The Gladiators. A Tale of Rome and Judæa

by G. J. Whyte-Melville

  CHAPTER IX

  THE LURE

  [Initial L]

  Like other great cities, the poorer quarters of Rome were densely crowded.The patricians, and indeed all the wealthier class, affected rural tasteseven in the midst of the capital, and much space was devoted to thegardens and pleasure-grounds which surrounded their dwellings. The humblerinhabitants were consequently driven to herd together in great numbers,with little regard to health or convenience, and the streets leading toand adjoining the Tiber were perhaps the most thickly populated of all.That in which Eleazar's house stood, was seldom empty of passengers at anyhour of the twenty-four, and least of all about sunset when the womenthronged out of their dwellings to draw water for the householdconsumption of the following day. Oarses was well aware of this, andtherefore it was that the cunning Egyptian had protested against anabduction of the Jewish maiden by open force from her father's door.

  "Leave it to me," said this finished villain, in discussing their infamousproject with his patron. "I know a lure to wile such birds as these offthe bough into my open hand. Stratagem first, force afterwards. There isno need to waken the tongues of all the women in the quarter. It was thecackling of a goose, my patron, that foiled the attack on the Capitol."

  'she was accosted by a dark sallow old woman']

  Mariamne, anxious and sad, was carrying her pitcher listlessly down to theTiber and letting her thoughts wander far from her occupation, into a fewsweet memories, and a thousand dreary apprehensions, when she was accostedby a dark sallow old woman, whose speech and manners, as well as herdress, betrayed an Eastern origin. The stranger asked some triflingquestions about her way, and prayed for a draught of cold water when thepitcher should be filled. Mariamne, whose heart unconsciously warmed tothe homely Syriac, entered freely into conversation with one of her ownsex, and whose language denoted, moreover, that she was familiar with hernation. Willingly she drew her a measure from the stream, which the otherquaffed with the moderation of one whose thirst is habitually quenchedwith wine rather than water.

  "It is somewhat muddy, I fear," said the girl kindly, reverting in her ownmind to the sparkling fountains of her native land, and yet acknowledginghow she loved this turbid stream better than them all. "If you will comeback with me to my father's house I can offer you a draught of wine and amorsel of bread to cheer you on your way."

  The other, though with no great avidity, took a second pull at thepitcher.

  "Nay," said she, "my daughter, I will not tax your hospitality so far. Norhave I need. There is lore enough left under these faded locks of mine, toturn the foulest cesspool in Rome as clear as crystal. Ay, to change thistasteless draught to wine of Lebanon, and the pitcher that contains it toa vase of gold."

  Mariamne shrank from her with a gesture of dismay. Believing implicitly intheir power, her religion forbade her to hold any intercourse with thosewho professed the black art. The other marked her repugnance.

  "My child," she continued, in soothing tones, "be not afraid of the oldwoman's secret gifts. Mine is but a harmless knowledge, gained by study ofthe ancient Chaldaean scrolls, such as your own wise king possessed of old.It is but white magic, such as your high-priest himself would not scrupleto employ. Fear not, I say--I, who have pored over those mystic characterstill mine eyes grew dim, can read your sweet pale face as plain as thebrazen tablets in the Forum, and I can see in it sorrow, and care, andanxiety for him you love."

  Mariamne started. It was true enough, but how could the wise woman havefound it out? The girl looked wistfully at her companion, and the latter,satisfied she was on the right track, proceeded to answer that questioningglance.

  "Yes," she said, "you think he is in danger or in grief. You wonder whyyou do not see him oftener. Sometimes you fear he may be false. What wouldyou not give, my poor child, to look on the golden locks, and the whitebrow, now, at this very moment? And I can show them to you if you will.The old woman is not ungrateful even for a draught of the Tiber's muddystream."

  The blood mounted to Mariamne's brow, but the light kindled at the sametime in her eyes, and the soft gleam swept over her face that comes intoevery human countenance when the heart vibrates with an allusion to itstreasure as though the silver cord thrilled to the touch of an angel'swing. It was no clumsy guess of the wise woman, to infer that this dark-eyed damsel cherished some fair-haired lover.

  "What mean you?" asked the girl eagerly. "How can you show him to me? Whatdo you know of him? Is he safe? Is he happy?"

  The wise woman smiled. Here was a bird flying blindfold into the net. Takeher by her affections, and there would be little difficulty in thecapture.

  "He is in danger," she replied. "But you could save him if you only knewhow. He might be happy too, if he would. But with another!"

  To do Mariamne justice she heard only the first sentence.

  "In danger!" she repeated, "and I could save him! Oh, tell me where he is,and what I can do for his sake!"

  The wise woman pulled a small mirror from her bosom.

  "I cannot tell you," she answered, "but I can show him to you in this.Only not here, where the shadow of a passer-by might destroy the charm.Let us turn aside to that vacant space by the broken column, and you shalllook without interruption on the face you love."

  It was but a short way off, though the ruins which surrounded it made theplace lonely and secluded; had it been twice the distance, however,Mariamne would have accompanied her new acquaintance without hesitation inher eagerness for tidings of Esca's fate. As she neared the broken column,so endeared to her by associations, she could not repress a faint sigh,which was not lost on her companion.

  "It was here you met him before," whispered the wise woman. "It is hereyou shall see his face again."

  This was scarcely a random shaft, for it required little penetration todiscover that Mariamne had some tender associations connected with a spotthus adapted for the meeting of a pair of lovers; nevertheless theapparent familiarity with her previous actions was sufficient to convincethe Jewess of her companion's supernatural knowledge, and though it rousedalarm, it excited curiosity in a still greater degree.

  "Take the mirror in your hand," whispered the wise woman, when they hadreached the column, casting, at the same time, a searching glance around."Shut your eyes whilst I speak the charm that calls him, three times over,and then look steadily on its surface till I have counted a hundred."

  Mariamne obeyed these directions implicitly. Standing in the vacant spacewith the mirror in her hand, she shut her eyes and listened intently tothe solemn tones of the wise woman chanting in a low monotonous voice someunintelligible stanzas, while from the deep shadow behind the brokencolumn, there stole out the portly figure of Damasippus, and, at the samemoment, half a dozen strong well-armed slaves rose from the differenthiding-places in which they lay concealed amongst the ruins. Ere theincantation had been twice repeated, Damasippus threw a shawl over thegirl's head, muffling her so completely, while he caught her in his strongarms, that an outcry was impossible. The others snatched her up ere shecould make a movement, and bore her swiftly off to a chariot with fourwhite horses waiting in the next street, whilst the wise woman, followingat a rapid pace, and disencumbering herself of her female attire as shesped along, disclosed the cunning features and the thin wiry form ofOarses the Egyptian. Coming up with Damasippus, who was panting behind theslaves and their burden, he laughed a low noiseless laugh.

  "My plan was the best," said he, "after all. What fools these women are, Omy friend! Is there any other creature that can be taken with a bait sosimple? Three inches of mirror and the ghost of an absent face!"

  But Damasippus had not breath to reply. Hurrying onward, he was chieflyanxious to dispose of his prize in the chariot without interruption; andwhen he reached it he mounted by her side, and bidding Oarses and theslaves follow as near as was practicable, he drove off at great speed inthe direction of the trib
une's house.

  But this was an eventful night in Rome, and although for that reason welladapted to a deed of violence, its tumult and confusion exacted greatcaution from those who wished to proceed without interruption along thestreets. The shouts that had disturbed the two freedmen in their garretwhilst preparing the enterprise they had since so successfully carriedout, gave no false warning of the coming storm. That storm had burst, andwas now raging in its fury throughout a wide portion of the city. Like allsuch outbreaks it gathered force and violence in many quarters at once,and from many sources unconnected with its original cause.

  Rome was the theatre that night of a furious civil war, consequent on theintrigues of various parties which had now grown to a head. The oldPraetorian guard had been broken up by Vitellius, and dismissed without anyof the honours and gratuities to which they considered themselvesentitled, in order to make way for another body of troops on whosefidelity the Emperor believed he could rely, and who were now called, incontradistinction to their predecessors, the New Praetorians. Two suchconflicting interests carried in them the elements of the direst hatredand strife. The original body-guard hoping to be restored by Vespasian,should he attain the purple, had everything to gain by a change ofdynasty, and were easily won over by the partisans of that successfulgeneral to any enterprise, however desperate, which would place him on thethrone. Trusting to this powerful aid, these partisans, of whom JuliusPlacidus, the tribune, though he had wormed himself into the confidence ofVitellius, was one of the most active and unscrupulous, were ready enoughto raise the standard of revolt and had no fear for the result. The trainwas laid, and to-night it had been decided that the match should beapplied. In regular order of battle, in three ranks with spears advancedand eagles in the centre, the Old Praetorians marched at sundown to attackthe camp of their successors. It was a bloody and obstinate contest. Thenew body-guard, proud of their promotion, and loyal to the hand that hadbought them, defended themselves to the death. Again and again was thecamp almost carried. Again and again were the assailants obstinatelyrepulsed. It was only when slain, man by man, falling in their ranks asthey stood, with all their wounds _in front_, that a victory wasobtained--a victory which so crippled the conquerors as to render them butinefficient auxiliaries in the other conflicts of that eventful night. Butthis was only one of the many pitched battles, so to speak, of which Romewas the unhappy theatre. The Capitol after an obstinate defence had beentaken by the partisans of the present Emperor and burned to the ground.

  This stronghold having been previously seized and occupied by Sabinus, whodeclared himself Governor of Rome in the name of Vespasian, and who evenreceived in state several of the principal nobility and a deputation fromthe harassed and vacillating senate, had been alternately the object ofattack and defence to either party. Its possession seemed to confer aspurious sovereignty over the whole city, and it was held as obstinatelyas it was vigorously and desperately attacked.

  An hour or two before sunset, an undisciplined body of soldiers, armedonly with their swords, and formidable chiefly from the wild fury withwhich they seemed inspired, marched through the Forum and ascended theCapitoline Hill. The assailants having no engines of war either forprotection or offence, suffered severely from the missiles showered uponthem by the besieged, till the thought struck them of throwing flamingtorches into the place from the roofs of the houses which surrounded it,and which, erected in time of peace, had been suffered to overtop theRoman citadel. In vain, after the flames had consumed the gate, did theyendeavour to force an entrance; for Sabinus, with the unscrupulousresource of a Roman soldier, had blocked the way by a hundred prostratestatues of gods and men, pulled down from the sacred pedestals on whichthey had stood for ages; but the contiguous houses catching fire, and allthe woodwork of the Capitol being old and dry, the flames soon spread, andin a few hours the stronghold of Roman pride and Roman history waslevelled with the ground. Callous to the memories around him, forgetful ofthe Tarquins, and the Scipios, and the many hallowed names that shed theirlustre on this monument of his country's greatness, Sabinus lost hispresence of mind in proportion as the necessity for preserving it becamemore urgent. He was no longer able to control his troops, and the latter,panic-stricken with the entrance of their enemies, disbanded, and betookthemselves to flight. The majority, including one woman of noble birth,were put ruthlessly to the sword, but a few, resembling their assailants,as they did, in arms, appearance, and language, were fortunate enough tocatch the password by which they recognised each other, and so escaped.

  In another quarter of the mighty city, a large body of troops who hadhoisted the standard of Vespasian, and had already suffered one repulsewhich rather excited their animosity than quelled their ardour, wereadvancing in good order, and, according to sound warlike tactics, in threedivisions. The gardens of Sallust, laid out by that elegant andintellectual sensualist, with a view to pursuits far removed from strifeand bloodshed, were the scene of an obstinate combat, in which, however,one of these columns succeeded in establishing itself within the walls;and now the struggle that had heretofore been carried on in its outskirts,penetrated to the heart of the Roman capital. The citizens beheld warbrought into their very homes and hearths--the familiar street slipperywith blood--the wounded soldier reeling on the doorsill, where the childrenwere wont to play--the dead man's limbs strewed helpless by the fountain,where the girls assembled with shrill laughing voices on the calm summerevenings,--and worse than all, instead of the kindly grasp of friends andfellow-countrymen, the brother's hand clutching at the brother's throat.

  Such horrors, however, did but more demoralise a population alreadysteeped to the very lips in cruelty, vice, and foul iniquity. Trained tobloodshed by the ghastly entertainments of the amphitheatre, the Romancitizen gloated on no spectacle with so keen a pleasure as on the throesof a fellow-creature in the agony of violent death. The populace seemednow to consider the contest waged at their doors as a goodly show got upfor their especial amusement. Loud shouts encouraged the combatants aseither party swayed and wavered in the mortal press, and _Euge!_--_Bene!_were cried as loudly for their encouragement, as if they had been paidgladiators, earning their awful livelihood on the sand. Nay, worse, whensome wounded soldier dragged himself into a house for safety, instead ofsuccour, he was received with yells of reprobation, and thrust out intothe street that he might be despatched by his conquerors according to themerciless regulations of the amphitheatre.

  Nor was man the only demon on the scene. Unsexed women with bare bosoms,wild eyes, streaming hair, and white feet stained with blood, flew to andfro amongst the soldiers, stimulating them to fresh atrocities with wineand caresses and odious ribald mirth. It was a festival of Death and Sin.She had wreathed her fair arms around the spectral king, and crowned hisfleshless brows with her gaudy garlands, and wrapped him in her mantle offlame, and pressed the blood-red goblet to his lips, maddening him withher shrieks of wild, mocking laughter, the while their mutual feettrampled out the lives and souls of their victims on the stones of Rome.

  Through a town in such a state of turmoil and confusion, Damasippus tookupon himself to conduct in safety the prize he had succeeded in capturing,not, it must be confessed, without many hearty regrets that he had everembarked in the undertaking. Devoutly did he now wish that he could shiftthe whole business on to the shoulders of Oarses; but of late he had beenconcerned to observe in the patron's manner a certain sense of his owninutility as compared with the astute Egyptian; and if the latter were nowpermitted to conclude, as he had undoubtedly inaugurated, the adventure,Placidus might be satisfied that there was little use in entertaining tworogues to do the work of one. He knew his patron well enough to be awareof the effect such a conviction would have on his own prospects. Thetribune would no more scruple to bid him go starve or hang, than he wouldto pull out a superfluous hair from his beard. Therefore, at all risks,thought Damasippus, he must be the man to bring Mariamne into his lord'shouse. It was a difficult and a dangerous task. There was only room
forhimself and one stout slave besides the charioteer and the prisoner. Thelatter had struggled violently, and required to be held down by mainforce, nor in muffling her screams was it easy to observe the happy mediumbetween silence and suffocation. Also, it was indispensable, in thepresent lawless state of affairs, to avoid observation; and the spectacleof a handsomely gilded chariot with a female figure in it, held down andclosely veiled, the whole drawn by four beautiful white horses, was notcalculated to traverse the streets of a crowded city without remark.Oarses, indeed, had suggested a litter, but this had been overruled by hiscomrade on the score of speed, and now the state of the streets made speedimpossible. To be sure this enabled the escort to keep up with him, andDamasippus, who was no fighter at heart, derived some comfort from theirpresence. The darkness, however, which should have favoured him, wasdispelled by the numerous conflagrations in various parts of the city; andwhen the chariot was stopped and forced to turn into a by-street to avoida crowd rushing towards the blazing Capitol, Damasippus felt his heartsink within him in an access of terror, such as even he had never feltbefore.