CHAPTER XVIII
THE BUSINESS OF CAESAR
Thrusting Spado aside without ceremony, and disregarding the eunuch'sexpostulations in obedience to the orders he had received, Esca burstthrough a narrow door, tore down a velvet curtain, and found himself inthe private apartment of the Emperor. Caesar's business was at that momentscarcely of an urgency to weigh against the consideration of Caesar's life.Vitellius was reclining on a couch, his dress disordered and ungirt, agarland of roses at his feet, his heavy face, of which the swollenfeatures had lost all their early comeliness, expressing nothing butsullen torpid calm; his eye fixed on vacancy, his weak nerveless handscrossed in front of his unwieldy person, and his whole attitude that ofone who had little to occupy his attention, save his own personalindulgence and comfort. Yet for all this, the mind was busy within thatbloated form. There are moments in existence, when the past comes back tous day by day, and incident by incident, shining out in colours vivid andlifelike as the present. On the eve of an important crisis, during thecrisis itself if we are not permitted to take an active part in it butcompelled to remain passive, the mere sport of its contingencies, for thefew minutes that succeed a complete demolition of the fabric we have beenbuilding all our lives, we become possessed of this faculty, and seem, ina strange dream-like sense, to live our time over again.
For the last few days, even Vitellius had awoke to the conviction that hisdiadem was in danger, for the last few hours he had seen cause to tremblefor his life; nevertheless, none of the usual habits of the palace hadbeen altered; and even when Primus, the successful general of hisdangerous rival, Vespasian, occupied the suburbs, his reverses did butelicit from the Emperor a call for more wine and a heartless jest. To-dayhe must have seen clearly that all was lost, yet the supper to which hesat down with half a dozen favourite eunuchs, was no less elaborate thanusual, the wine flowed as freely, the Emperor ate as enormously, and whenhe could eat no more, retired to pass his customary half-hour in perfectsilence and repose, nor suffered the important process of digestion to bedisturbed by the fact that his very gates must ere midnight be inpossession of the enemy.
Nevertheless, as if in warning of what was to come, the pageant of hislife seemed to move past his half-closed eyes; and who shall say how vainand empty such a pageant may have appeared even to the besotted glutton,who, though he had the address to catch the diadem of the Caesars, when itwas thrown to him by chance, knew but too well that he had no power toretain it on his head when wrested by the grasp of force. Though feebleand worn out, he was not old, far short of threescore years, yet what alife of change and turmoil and vicissitudes his had been! Proconsul ofAfrica, favourite of four emperors, it must have been a certainversatility of talent that enabled him to rule such an important provincewith tolerable credit, and yet retain the good graces of successivetyrants, resembling each other in nothing save incessant caprice. Aninformer with Tiberius; a pander to the crimes, and a proselyte to thedivinity of mad Caligula; a screen for Messalina's vices, and an easyadviser to her easy and timid lord; lastly, everything in turn withNero--chariot-driver, singer, parasite, buffoon, and in all these variousparts, preserving the one unfailing characteristic of a consummate andsystematic debauchee. It seemed but yesterday that he had thrown the dicewith Claudius, staking land and villas as freely as jewels and gold,losing heavily to his imperial master; and, though he had to borrow themoney at high usury, quick-witted enough to perceive the noble reversionhe had thus a chance of purchasing. It seemed but yesterday that he flewround the dusky circus, grazing the goal with practised skill, and, by ahappy dexterity, suffering Caligula to win the race so narrowly, as toenchance the pleasure of imperial triumph. It seemed but yesterday that hesang with Nero, and flattered the monster by comparing him with thesirens, whose voices charmed mariners to their destruction.
And now was it all over? Must he indeed give up the imperial purple andthe throne of blazing gold?--the luxurious banquets and the luscious wines?He shuddered and sickened while he thought of a crust of brown bread and apitcher of water. Nay, worse than this, was he sure his life was safe? Hehad seen death often--what Roman had not? But at his best, in the field,clad in corselet and headpiece, and covered with a buckler, he had thoughthim an ugly and unwelcome visitor. Even at Bedriacum, when he told hisgenerals as he rode over the slain, putrefying on the ground, that "a deadenemy smelt sweet, and the sweeter for being a citizen," he remembered nowthat his gorge had risen while he spoke. He remembered, too, the Germanbody-guard that had accompanied him, and the faithful courage with whichhis German levies fought. There were a few of them in the palace yet. Itgave him confidence to recollect this. For a moment the soldier-spiritkindled up within, and he felt as though he could put himself at the headof those blue-eyed giants, lead them into the very centre of the enemy,and die there like a man. He rose to his feet, and snatched at one of theweapons hanging for ornament against the wall, but the weak limbs failed,the pampered body asserted itself, and he sank back helpless on the couch.
It was at this moment that Esca burst so unceremoniously into theEmperor's presence.
Vitellius did not rise again, less alarmed, perhaps, than astonished. TheBriton threw himself upon his knees, and touched the broad crimson bindingof the imperial gown.
"There is not a moment to lose!" said he. "They are forcing the gates. Theguard has been driven back. It is too late for resistance; but Caesar mayyet escape if he will trust himself to me."
Vitellius looked about him, bewildered. At that moment a shout was heardfrom the palace-gardens, accompanied by a rush of many feet, and theominous clash of steel. Esca knew that the assailants were gladiators. Ifthey came in with their blood up, they would give no quarter.
"Caesar must disguise himself," he insisted earnestly. "The slaves havebeen leaving the palace in hundreds. If the Emperor would put on a coarsegarment and come with me, I can show him the way to safety; and Placidus,hastening to this apartment, will find it empty."
With all his sensual vices, there was yet something left of the old Romanspirit in Vitellius, which sparkled out in an emergency. After the firstsudden surprise of Esca's entrance, he became cooler every moment. At themention of the tribune's name he seemed to reflect.
"Who are you?" said he, after a pause; "and how came you here?"
Short as had been his reign he had acquired the tone of royalty; and couldeven assume a certain dignity, notwithstanding the urgency of his presentdistress. In a few words Esca explained to him his danger, and hisenemies.
"Placidus," repeated the Emperor thoughtfully, and as if more concernedthan surprised; "then there is no chance of the design failing; no hope ofmercy when it has succeeded. Good friend! I will take your advice. I willtrust you, and go with you, where you will. If I am an Emperor to-morrow,you will be the greatest man in Rome."
Hitherto he had been leaning indolently back on the couch. Now he seemedto rouse himself for action, and stripped the crimson-bordered gown fromhis shoulders, the signet-ring from his hand.
"They will make a gallant defence," said he, "but if I know JuliusPlacidus, he will outnumber them ten to one. Nevertheless they may holdhim at bay with their long swords till we get clear of the palace. Thegardens are dark and spacious; we can hide there for a time, and take anopportunity of reaching my wife's house on Mount Aventine; Galeria willnot betray me, and they will never think of looking for me there."
Speaking thus coolly and deliberately, but more to himself than hiscompanion, Caesar, divested of all marks of splendour in his dress andornaments, stripped to a plain linen garment, turning up his sleeves andgirding himself the while, like a slave busied in some household workrequiring activity and despatch, suffered the Briton to lead him into thenext apartment, where, deserted by his comrades, and sorely perplexedbetween a vague sense of duty and a strong inclination to run away, Spadowas pacing to and fro in a ludicrous state of perturbation and dismay.Already the noise of fighting was plainly disti
nguished in the outercourt. The gladiators, commanded by Hippias and guided by the treacheroustribune, had overpowered the main body of the Germans who occupied theimperial gardens, and were now engaged with the remnant of these faithfulbarbarians at the very doors of the palace.
The latter, though outnumbered, fought with the desperate courage of theirrace. The Roman soldier in his cool methodical discipline, was sometimespuzzled to account for that frantic energy, which acknowledged nosuperiority either of position or numbers, which seemed to gather afresher and more stubborn courage from defeat; and even the gladiators,men whose very livelihood was slaughter, and whose weapons were never outof their hands, found themselves no match for these large savage warriorsin the struggle of a hand-to-hand combat, recoiled more than once inbaffled rage and astonishment from the long swords, and the blue eyes, andthe tall forms that seemed to tower and dilate in the fierce revelry ofbattle.
The military skill of Placidus, exercised before many a Jewish rampart,and on many a Syrian plain, had worsted the main body of the Germans bytaking them in flank. Favoured by the darkness of the shrubberies, he hadcontrived to throw a hundred practised swordsmen unexpectedly on theirmost defenceless point. Surprised and outnumbered, they retreatednevertheless in good order, though sadly diminished, upon their comradesat the gate. Here the remaining handful made a desperate stand, and herePlacidus, wiping his bloody sword upon his tunic, whispered to Hippias--
"We must put Hirpinus and the supper-party in front! If we can but carrythe gate, there are a score of entrances into the palace. Remember! wegive no quarter, and we recognise no one."
Whilst the chosen band who had left the tribune's table were held in checkby the guard, there was a moment's respite, during which Caesar mightpossibly escape. Esca, rapidly calculating the difficulties in his ownmind, had resolved to hurry him through the most secluded part of thegardens into the streets, and so running the chance of recognition whichin the darkness of night, and under the coarse garb of a household slave,was but a remote contingency, to convey him by a circuitous route toGaleria's house, of which he knew the situation, and where he might beconcealed for a time without danger of detection. The great obstacle wasto get him out of the palace without being seen. The private door by whichhe had himself entered, he knew must be defended, or the assailants wouldhave taken advantage of it ere this, and he dared not risk recognition, tosay nothing of the chances of war, by endeavouring to escape through themidst of the conflict at the main gate. He appealed to Spado forassistance.
"There is a terrace at the back here," stammered the eunuch; "if Caesar canreach it, a pathway leads directly down to the summer-house in thethickest part of the gardens; thence he can go between the fish-pondsstraight to the wicket that opens on the Appian Way."
"Idiot!" exclaimed the Emperor angrily, "how am I to reach the terrace?There is no door, and the window must be a man's height at least from theground."
"It is your only chance of life, illustrious!" observed Esca impatiently."Guide us to the window, friend," he added, turning to Spado, who lookedfrom one to the other in helpless astonishment, "and tear that shawl fromthe couch; we may want it for a rope to let the Emperor down."
A fresh shout from the combatants at the gate, while it completelyparalysed the eunuch, seemed to determine Vitellius. He moved resolutelyforward, followed by his two companions, Spado whispering to the Briton,"You are a brave young man. We will all escape together, I--I will stand byyou to the last!"
They needed but to cross a passage and traverse another room. Caesar peeredover the window-sill into the darkness below, and drew back.
"It is a long way down," said he. "What if I were to break a limb?"
Esca produced the shawl he had brought with him from the adjoiningapartment, and offered to place it under his arms and round his body.
"Shall I go first?" said Spado. "It is not five cubits from the ground."
But the Emperor thought of his brother Lucius and the cohorts atTerracina. Could he but gain the camp there he would be safe, nay more, hecould make head against his rival; he would return to Rome with avictorious army; he would retrieve the diadem and the purple, and thesuppers at the palace once more.
"Stay where you are!" he commanded Spado, who was looking with an eagereye at the window. "I will risk it. One draught of Falernian, and I willrisk it and be gone."
He turned back towards the banqueting-room, and while he did so anothershout warned him that the gate was carried, and the palace in possessionof the conspirators.
Esca followed the Emperor, vainly imploring him to fly. Spado, taking onemore look from the window ere he risked his bones, heard the ring ofarmour and the tramp of feet coming round the corner of the palace, on thevery terrace he desired to reach. White and trembling, he tore the garlandfrom his head and gnawed its roses with his teeth in the inpotence of hisdespair. He knew the last chance was gone now, and they must die.
The Emperor returned to the room where he had supped; seized a flagon ofFalernian, filled himself a large goblet which he half-emptied at adraught, and set it down on the board with a deep sigh of satisfaction.The courtyard had been taken at last, and the palace surrounded.Resistance was hopeless, and escape impossible. The Germans were stillfighting, indeed, within the rooms, disputing inch by inch the glitteringcorridors, and the carved doorways, and the shining polished floors, nowmore slippery than ever with blood. Pictures and statues seemed to lookdown in calm amazement at thrust and blow and death-grapple, and all thereeling confusion of mortal strife. But the noise came nearer and nearer;the Germans, falling man by man, were rapidly giving ground. Esca knew thegame was lost at last, and he turned to his companions in peril with agrave and clouded brow.
"There is nothing for it left," said he, "but to die like men. Yet ifthere be any corner in which Caesar can hide," he added, with something ofcontempt in his tone, "I will gain him five minutes more of life, if thisglittering toy holds together so long."
Then he snatched from the wall an Asiatic javelin, all lacquered andornamented with gold, cast one look at the others, as if to bid themfarewell, and hurried from the room. Spado, a mass of shaking flesh, andtumbled garments and festive ornaments strangely out of keeping with hisattitude, cowered down against the wall, hiding his face in his hands; butVitellius, with something akin even to gratification on his countenance,returned to the half-emptied cup, and raising it to his lips, deliberatelyfinished his Falernian.
The Gladiators. A Tale of Rome and Judæa Page 40