by Felix Dahn
CHAPTER X.
"I am generous," replied Ausonius. "It pleases me to discover in thisway a favorite dish of my usually Spartan friend. I will avenge myselfby placing before you, if possible, the delicious fish this lakecontains; for in its green depths are balche and trout of the mostdelicate flavor. They are even better than those of the Mosella: Icould surely have supplied you with them if the Barbarians had not allfled from the shore before our troops. When, five years ago, I spentseveral months on the opposite side in Arbor Felix, to investigate thecondition of the frontiers, what magnificent fish I had!" Then, as iflost in reverie, he sighed: "Ah, those were happy days! My dear wife,my gentle Sabina, was living."
"Hail to thy memory, Attusia Lucana Sabina!" said the nephew.
"And my dear children! Then my beautiful, spacious house in the city,and the charming villa outside the Garumna gate were not empty anddesolate. How gaily the songs of the young girls echoed through thecountry during the season when the vine blossoms poured forth theirfragrance! Then I still saw around me the beloved faces of my kindred,did not stand alone, poor with all my wealth, as now--"
"Uncle!" interrupted Herculanus, trying to assume a tone of most tenderreproach, in which, however, he was not entirely successful. "Standalone? Have you not me, who love you so tenderly?"
The Tribune gazed coldly at the over-zealous nephew.
But Ausonius replied kindly: "Certainly, my dear fellow, you are leftto me, but you alone out of the whole circle of my family swept away ina single year by the pestilence: my Sabina, my three children, my twosisters and two sweet young nieces. Can you alone fill the places ofall? I often feel so lonely. And you are a man. My gentle wife, mydaughters, my sisters, my nieces, how I miss them! I confess it: I needthe melody of women's voices, their graceful movements around me. Imiss something!"
The young Roman, excited, hastily seized the goblet. The Tribune lookedhim keenly in the face and, without averting his eyes from the nephew,suddenly said to the uncle in a very loud tone: "You must marry again!"Then the Illyrian turned away from Herculanus: he seemed to have seenenough.
"Yes," said Ausonius slowly, almost solemnly, "I have often thought ofit. It is a serious, a very serious matter--at my age."
"At any age," said Saturninus. "Years will not stand in your way. Youare perhaps fifty?"
"Fifty-two," sighed the Prefect. "And my hair is gray!"
"Not very yet! Besides, mine is too. In my case from the weight of thehelmet. And it is becoming. You are a--"
"Handsome old man, you are going to say," replied Ausonius smiling."That is not exactly what pleases maidens."
"Well, you need not choose a girl of sixteen."
"But not one much older!" said the poet quickly. "No, my friend! I wantyouth and charm near me."
"That you may have too," said the Illyrian. "You can select from yourwhole province, nay, the whole Empire. You, the highest official inGaul, the Emperor's tutor and favorite, the celebrated poet and--"
"And the richest match in the whole West," interrupted the nephewsharply. Hitherto he had remained persistently silent, his eyes castdown and the expression of his mouth covered by his hand. "The richestgray beard on this side of the Alps!" he added.
"Yes, that is it," said Ausonius bitterly. "Herculanus only says openlyand frankly what has secretly tortured me so much all these years, nay,what has alone deterred me. You know, my friend,--or rather, you bluntTribune of the camp, you do not know,--for what reasons parents in ourlarge cities marry their daughters, nay, how these girls themselves,almost before they have laid aside their dolls, instantly look out for'a good catch'! In sooth, neither Eros nor Anteros, but Hermes andPlutus unite couples now."
"Yes, they marry only for money!" cried Herculanus wrathfully. "I ampoor; the girls all shun me--"
The Tribune was about to answer, but only laughed and drank his wine.
"Although I am nearly thirty years younger than my uncle! Fathers,mothers, guardians, nay, even the forward girls themselves, all cajolehim, till I can scarcely warn and guard enough."
"That's the way the bee-keeper guards the honey from the mice," growledthe Illyrian under his breath.
"My nephew is perfectly right. A friend of mine, Erminiscius, a richmerchant who deals in gems, fifty years old, married a girl of twenty.A week after, she disappeared with all his antique jewels and--hisyoungest freedman. Another, Euronius, a large owner of vineyards,somewhat older, married a young widow of twenty-five; that is--he wasmarried by her; for she did not rest until she had him. Even before thewedding he was obliged to make his will; she dictated it to him wordfor word. He died at the next kalends--violent colic. I did not like itat all; I hate colic! And so many wild cherries grew close by hisgarden! You ought to see how much this double widow enjoys life now.She once paid me a visit--she is very beautiful and was bewitchinglyamiable to me; but I thought of the dead Euronius's colic, and escapedunwedded. I don't imagine in all cases an elopement or a wild-cherrycake; every one is neither a Helena nor a Locusta. Suspicion is notusually one of my faults."
"Rather the contrary," observed Saturninus.
"But, I confess it, my gray hairs make me distrustful. I should be sounhappy--Apollo's richest laurels would not heal the wound--if I wereforced to believe that I had been married only for the sake of mywealth. I do not deserve it."
"No indeed, you do not," cried the Tribune, pressing his hand warmly."Your heart is tender, kind, and frank. Whoever feigned love for thesake of your money would be contemptible. And I hope that you may yetsee a band of children playing around your knees in the beautiful villagardens on the flowery shores of your beloved Garumna."
Ausonius smiled. The picture seemed to please him. Then his eye met theglance of his nephew, who seemed to be gazing into the distance lesscomplacently. "Don't be uneasy, Herculanus," he said. "Even if itshould be so, my will would not forget you. And your creditors," headded, smiling compassionately.
"Will! What an ill-omened word! Far be it," cried the young Roman.
"Well, people don't die from making wills, or I should have left theliving long ago. A Roman citizen sets his house in order for everyemergency, death included. So, though Herculanus according to the lawwould now be my sole heir, I made my will before the magistrate inBurdigala before joining the army, formally naming him my heir: a fewlittle legacies and the liberation of some faithful slaves stillremain. To you, Saturninus," he added, laughing, "I shall bequeathafter my return, in a codicil, a valuable memento of this evening."
"Well?"
"A copy of the 'Mosella'; but the verses about the fish are to be cutout by way of punishment."
He quaffed his wine, pleased with his own jest.