Chapter IV
Lucius Ahenobarbus Airs His Grievance
I
The pomp and gluttony of Roman banquets have been too often describedto need repetition here; neither would we be edified by learning allthe orgies that Marcus Laeca (an old Catilinian conspirator) and hiseight guests indulged in that night: only after the dinner had beencleared, and before the Gadesian[57] dancing girls were called in, thedice began to rattle, and speedily all were engrossed in drink andplay.
[57] From Cadiz, Spain.
Lucius Ahenobarbus soon lost so heavily that he was cursing every godthat presided over the noble game.
"I am ruined next Ides," he groaned. "Phormio the broker has onlycontinued my loan at four per cent a month. All my villas andfurniture are mortgaged, and will be sold at auction. _Mehercle_,destruction stares me in the face!"
"Well, well, my dear fellow," said Pratinas, who, having won thestakes, was in a mood to be sympathetic, "we must really see what canbe done to remedy matters."
"I can see nothing!" was his answer.
"Won't your father come to the rescue?" put in Gabinius, between deeppulls on a beaker.
"My father!" snapped Ahenobarbus. "Never a sesterce will I get out ofhim! He's as good as turned me adrift, and Cato my uncle is alwaysgiving him bad reports of me, like the hypocritical Stoic that Catois."
"By the bye," began Gabinius again, putting down the wine-cup, "youhinted to-day that you had been cheated out of a fortune, after amanner. Something about that Drusus of Praeneste, if I recollect.What's the story?"
Lucius settled down on his elbow, readjusted the cushions on thebanqueting couch, and then began, interrupted by many a hiccoughbecause of his potations.
"It is quite a story, but I won't bore you with details. It has quiteas much to do with Cornelia, Lentulus Crus's pretty niece, as withDrusus himself. Here it is in short. Sextus Drusus and Caius Lentuluswere such good friends that, as you know, they betrothed their son anddaughter when the latter were mere children. To make the compactdoubly strong, Sextus Drusus inserted in his will a clause like this:'Let my son Quintus enjoy the use of my estate and its income, untilhe become twenty-five and cease to be under the care of Flaccus his_tutor_.[58] If he die before that time, let his property go toCornelia, the daughter of Caius Lentulus, except;' and here Sextusleft a small legacy for his own young daughter, Livia. You see Drususcan make no will until he is five-and-twenty. But then comes anotherprovision. 'If Cornelia shall marry any person save my son, my sonshall at once be free to dispose of my estates.' So Cornelia is laidunder a sort of obligation also to marry Quintus. The whole aim of thewill is to make it very hard for the young people to fail to wed astheir fathers wished."
[58] Commercial adviser required for young men under five-and-twenty.
"True," said Gabinius; "but how such an arrangement can affect you andyour affairs, I really cannot understand."
"That is so," continued Ahenobarbus, "but here is the other side ofthe matter. Caius Lentulus was a firm friend of Sextus Drusus; he alsowas very close and dear to my father. Caius desired that Cornelia wedyoung Drusus, and so enjoined her in his will; but out of complimentto my father, put in a clause which was something like this: 'IfQuintus Drusus die before he marry Cornelia, or refuse to marryCornelia at the proper time, then let Cornelia and all her property begiven to Lucius, the second son of my dearly loved friend, LuciusDomitius Ahenobarbus,' Now I think you will begin to see why QuintusDrusus's affairs interest me a little. If he refuse to marry Corneliabefore he be five-and-twenty, she falls to me. But I understand thatLentulus, her uncle, is badly in debt, and her dowry won't be much.But if Drusus is not married to her, and die before he is twenty-five,_his property is hers and she is mine._ Do you understand why I have alittle grudge against him?"
"For what?" cried Laeca, with breathless interest.
"For living!" sighed Ahenobarbus, hopelessly.
The handsome face of Pratinas was a study. His nostrils dilated; hislips quivered; his eyes were bright and keen with what evidentlypassed in his mind for a great discovery.
"Eureka!" cried the Greek, clapping his hands. "My dear Lucius, let mecongratulate you! You are saved!"
"What?" exclaimed the young man, starting up.
"You are saved!" repeated Pratinas, all animation. "Drusus's sestercesshall be yours! Every one of them!"
Lucius Ahenobarbus was a debauchee, a mere creature of pleasure,without principle or character; but even he had a revulsion of spiritat the hardly masked proposal of the enthusiastic Greek. He flushed inspite of the wine, then turned pale, then stammered, "Don't mentionsuch a thing, Pratinas. I was never Drusus's enemy. I dare not dreamof such a move. The Gods forefend!"
"The Gods?" repeated Pratinas, with a cynical intonation. "Do youbelieve there are any?"
"Do you?" retorted Lucius, feeling all the time that a deadlytemptation had hold of him, which he could by no means resist.
"Why?" said the Greek. "Your Latin Ennius states my view, in some ofyour rather rough and blundering native tetrameters. He says:--
"'There's a race of gods in heaven; so I've said and still will say. But I deem that we poor mortals do not come beneath their sway. Otherwise the good would triumph, whereas evil reigns to-day.'"
"And you advise?" said Ahenobarbus, leaning forward with pent-upexcitement.
"I advise?" replied Pratinas; "I am only a poor ignorant Hellene, andwho am I, to give advice to Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus, a most noblemember of the most noble of nations!"
If Pratinas had said: "My dear Lucius, you are a thick-headed,old-fashioned, superstitious Roman, whom I, in my superior wisdom,utterly despise," he would have produced about the same effect uponyoung Ahenobarbus.
But Lucius still fluttered vainly,--a very weak conscience whisperingthat Drusus had never done him any harm; that murder was a dangerousgame, and that although his past life had been bad enough, he hadnever made any one--unless it were a luckless slave or two--the victimof bloodthirsty passion or rascality.
"Don't propose it," he groaned. "I don't dare to think of such athing! What disgrace and trouble, if it should all come out!"
"Come, come, Ahenobarbus," thrust in Marcus Laeca, who had beeneducated in Catilina's school for polite villains and cut-throats."Pratinas is only proposing what, if you were a man of spirit, wouldhave been done long ago. You can't complain of Fortune, when she's puta handsome estate in your hands for the asking."
"My admirable fellow," said Pratinas, benevolently, "I highly applaudyour scruples. But, permit me to say it, I must ask you to defer to meas being a philosopher. Let us look at the matter in a rational way.We have gotten over any bogies which our ancestors had about Hades, orthe punishments of the wicked. In fact, what we know--as goodEpicureans--is that, as Democritus of Abdera[59] early taught, thisworld of ours is composed of a vast number of infinitely small andindivisible atoms, which have by some strange hap come to take theforms we see in the world of life and matter. Now the soul of man isalso of atoms, only they are finer and more subtile. At death theseatoms are dissolved, and so far as that man is concerned, all is overwith him. The atoms may recombine, or join with others, but never formanew that same man. Hence we may fairly conclude that this life iseverything and death ends all. Do you follow, and see to what I amleading?"
[59] Born about 470 B.C.
"I think so," said the wretched Lucius, feeling himself like a birdcaught in a snare, yet not exactly grasping the direct bearing of allthis learned exposition.
"My application is this," went on Pratinas, glibly. "Life is all--alleither for pleasure or pain. Therefore every man has a right toextract all the sweetness he can out of it. But suppose a mandeliberately makes himself gloomy, extracts no joy from life; letshimself be overborne by care and sorrow,--is not such a man betterdead than living? Is not a dreamless sleep preferable to misery oreven cold asceticism? And how much more does this all apply when wesee a man who makes himself unhappy, preventing by his very act o
fexistence the happiness of another more equably tempered mortal! Now Ibelieve this is the present case. Drusus, I understand, is leading aspare, joyless, workaday sort of existence, which is, or by everyhuman law should be, to him a burden. So long as he lives, he preventsyou from enjoying the means of acquiring pleasure. Now I have Socratesof imperishable memory on my side, when I assert that death under anycircumstances is either no loss or a very great gain. Considering thenthe facts of the case in its philosophic and rational bearings, I maysay this: Not merely would it be no wrong to remove Drusus from aworld in which he is evidently out of place, but I even conceive suchan act to rise to the rank of a truly meritorious deed."
Lucius Ahenobarbus was conquered. He could not resist the inexorablelogic of this train of reasoning, all the premises of which he fullyaccepted. Perhaps, we should add, he was not very unwilling to havehis wine-befuddled intellect satisfied, and his conscience stilled. Heturned down a huge beaker of liquor, and coughed forth:--
"Right as usual, Pratinas! By all the gods, but I believe you can saveme!"
"Yes; as soon as Drusus is dead," insinuated the Greek who was alreadycomputing his bill for brokerage in this little affair, "you can raiseplenty of loans, on the strength of your coming marriage withCornelia."
"But how will you manage it?" put in the alert Gabinius. "Theremustn't be any clumsy bungling."
"Rest assured," said Pratinas, with a grave dignity, perhaps theresult of his drinking, "that in my affairs I leave no room forbungling."
"And your plan is--" asked Lucius.
"Till to-morrow, friend," said the Greek; "meet me at the Temple ofSaturn, just before dusk. Then I'll be ready."
II
Lucius Ahenobarbus's servants escorted their tipsy master home to hislodgings in a fashionable apartment house on the Esquiline. When heawoke, it was late the next day, and head and wits were both sadly theworse for the recent entertainment. Finally a bath and a luncheoncleared his brain, and he realized his position. He was on the brinkof concocting a deliberate murder. Drusus had never wronged him; thecrime would be unprovoked; avarice would be its only justification.Ahenobarbus had done many things which a far laxer code of ethics thanthat of to-day would frown upon; but, as said, he had never committedmurder--at least had only had crucified those luckless slaves, who didnot count. He roused with a start, as from a dream. What if Pratinaswere wrong? What if there were really gods, and furies, andpunishments for the wicked after death? And then came the other sideof the shield: a great fortune his; all his debts paid off; unlimitedchances for self-enjoyment; last, but not least, Cornelia his. She hadslighted him, and turned her back upon all his advances; and now whatperfect revenge! Lucius was more in love with Cornelia than headmitted even to himself. He would even give up Clyte, if he couldpossess her. And so the mental battle went on all day; and the prickof conscience, the fears of superstition, and the lingerings ofreligion ever grew fainter. Near nightfall he was at his post, at theTemple of Saturn. Pratinas was awaiting him. The Greek had only a fewwords of greeting, and the curt injunction:--"Draw your cloak up toshield your face, and follow me." Then they passed out from the Forum,forced their way through the crowded streets, and soon were throughthe _Porta Ratumena,_ outside the walls, and struck out across theCampus Martius, upon the Via Flaminia. It was rapidly darkening. Thehouses grew fewer and fewer. At a little distance the dim structuresof the Portico and Theatre of Pompeius could be seen, looming up to anexaggerated size in the evening haze. A grey fog was drifting up fromthe Tiber, and out of a rift in a heavy cloud-bank a beam of theimprisoned moon was struggling. Along the road were peasants withtheir carts and asses hastening home. Over on the Pincian Mount thedark green masses of the splendid gardens of Pompeius and of Luculluswere just visible. The air was filled with the croak of frogs and thechirp of crickets, and from the river came the creak of the sculls andpaddles of a cumbrous barge that was working its way down the Tiber.
Ahenobarbus felt awed and uncomfortable. Pratinas, with his mantlewrapped tightly around his head, continued at a rapid pace. Lucius hadleft his attendants at home, and now began to recall gruesome tales ofhighwaymen and bandits frequenting this region after dark. His fearswere not allayed by noticing that underneath his himation Pratinasoccasionally let the hilt of a short sword peep forth. Still the Greekkept on, never turning to glance at a filthy, half-clad beggar, whowhined after them for an alms, and who did not so much as throw a kissafter the young Roman when the latter tossed forth a denarius,[60] butsnatched up the coin, muttered at its being no more, and vanished intothe gathering gloom.
[60] Four sesterces, 16 cents.
"Where are you leading me?" asked Ahenobarbus, a second time, afterall his efforts to communicate with the usually fluent Greek met withonly monosyllables.
"To the _lanista_[61] Dumnorix," replied Pratinas, quickening analready rapid pace.
[61] Keeper of a school of gladiators.
"And his barracks are--?"
"By the river, near the Mulvian bridge."
At length a pile of low square buildings was barely visible in thehaze. It was close to the Tiber, and the rush of the water against thepiling of the bridge was distinctly audible. As the two drew near to aclosed gateway, a number of mongrel dogs began to snap and bark aroundthem. From within the building came the roar of coarse hilarity andcoarser jests. As Pratinas approached the solidly barred doorway, agrating was pushed aside and a rude voice demanded:--
"Your business? What are you doing here?"
"Is Dumnorix sober?" replied Pratinas, nothing daunted. "If so, tellhim to come and speak with me. I have something for his advantage."
Either Pratinas was well known at the gladiators' school, or somethingin his speech procured favour. There was a rattling of chains andbolts, and the door swung open. A man of unusual height and ponderousproportions appeared in the opening. That was all which could be seenin the semi-darkness.
"You are Pratinas?" he asked, speaking Latin with a northern accent.The Hellene nodded, and replied softly: "Yes. No noise. Tell Dumnorixto come quietly."
The two stepped in on to the flags of a courtyard, and the doorkeeper,after rebolting, vanished into the building. Ahenobarbus could onlysee that he was standing in a large stone-paved court, perhaps onehundred and forty feet wide and considerably longer. A colonnade oflow whitewashed pillars ran all about: and behind them stretched rowsof small rooms and a few larger apartments. There were _tyros_practising with wooden swords in one of the rooms, whence a lightstreamed, and a knot of older gladiators was urging them on, mocking,praising, and criticising their efforts. Now and then a burlygladiator would stroll across the court; but the young noble and hisescort remained hidden in shadow.
Presently a door opened at the other end of the courtyard, and someone with a lantern began to come toward the entrance. Long before thestranger was near, Ahenobarbus thought he was rising like a giant outof the darkness; and when at last Dumnorix--for it was he--was closeat hand, both Roman and Greek seemed veritable dwarfs beside him.
Dumnorix--so far as he could be seen in the lantern light--was asplendid specimen of a northern giant. He was at least six feet fiveinches in height, and broad proportionately. His fair straight hairtumbled in disorder over his shoulders, and his prodigiously longmustaches seemed, to the awed Ahenobarbus, almost to curl down to hisneck. His breath came in hot pants like a winded horse, and when hespoke, it was in short Latin monosyllables, interlarded withoutlandish Gallic oaths. He wore cloth trousers with bright stripes ofred and orange; a short-sleeved cloak of dark stuff, falling down tothe thigh; and over the cloak, covering back and shoulders, anothersleeveless mantle, clasped under the chin with a huge golden buckle.At his right thigh hung, from a silver set girdle, by weighty bronzechains, a heavy sabre, of which the steel scabbard banged noisily asits owner advanced.
"Holla! Pratinas," cried the Gaul, as he came close. "By the holy oak!but I'm glad to see you! Come to my room. Have a flagon of our goodnorthern mead."
; "Hist," said the Greek, cautiously. "Not so boisterous. Better stayhere in the dark. I can't tell who of your men may hear us."
"As you say," said Dumnorix, setting down the light at a littledistance and coming closer.
"You remember that little affair of last year," said Pratinas,continuing;--"how you helped me get rid of a witness in a verytroublesome law case?"
"Ha! ha!" chuckled the giant, "I wish I had the sesterces I won then,in my coffer now."
"Well," replied Pratinas, "I don't need to tell you what I and mynoble friend here--Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus--have come for. Alittle more business along the same line. Are you our man?"
"I should say so," answered Dumnorix, with a grin worthy of a baboon."Only make it worth my while."
"Now," said Pratinas, sinking his voice still lower, "this affair ofours will pay you well; but it is more delicate than the other. Ablunder will spoil it all. You must do your best; and we will do thefair thing by you."
"Go on," said the Gaul, folding his huge paws on his breast.
"Have you ever been in Praeneste?" questioned Pratinas.
"I matched two _mirmillones_[62] of mine there against two_threces_[63] of another lanista, and my dogs won the prize; but Ican't say that I am acquainted with the place," answered the other.
[62] Gladiators equipped as Gaulish warriors.
[63] Buckler men.
"You should find out, then," said Pratinas, "for here lies your work."And then he proceeded, with occasional prompting from thebetter-informed Ahenobarbus, to point out the location of Drusus'sestate, and the character and habits of the man whom Dumnorix wascheerfully proposing to put out of the way. Dumnorix assented and badehim go on, with hoarse grunts; and when the Greek had concluded,growled out in his barbarous Latin:--
"But why all this pother? Why not let me send a knave or two and knockthe fellow some dark night in the head? It will save us both time andtrouble."
"My excellent master of the gladiators," said Pratinas, as smoothly asever, "you must not take it ill, if I tell you that to have a takingoff such as you propose would be a very bad thing both for you and themost noble Ahenobarbus. This Drusus is not a helpless wight, withoutfriends, waiting to become the fair prey of any dagger man.[64] He hasfriends, I have learned, who, if he were to be disposed of in such arude and bungling manner, would not fail to probe deeply into thewhole thing. Flaccus the great banker, notably, would spare no painsto bring the responsibility of the matter home, not merely to the poorwretch who struck the blow, but the persons who placed the weapon inhis hands. All of which would be very awkward for Ahenobarbus. No,your rough-and-ready plan won't in the least work."
[64] _Sicarius_.
"Well," replied Dumnorix, testily, "I'm a man of shallow wits and hardblows. If I had been of keener mind, the gods know, I would have beena free chief among the Nervii, instead of making sport for thesestraw-limbed Romans. If what I propose won't answer, what can bedone?"
"A great deal," said Pratinas, who knew perfectly how to cringe low,yet preserve his ascendency; "first of all, it is very necessary thatthe murderers of the amiable Drusus should receive a meet reward fortheir crime--that justice should be speedy and severe."
"Man!" cried Dumnorix, griping the Greek's arm in his tremendousclutch. "What are you asking?"
"By Zeus!" burst out Pratinas, rubbing his crushed member. "What agrip is yours! Don't be alarmed. Surely you would be as willing tohave one or two of your newest _tiros_ hung on a cross, as stabbed onthe arena--especially when it will pay a great deal better?"
"I don't follow you," said the Gaul, though a little reassured.
"Simply this," said Pratinas, who evidently felt that he was coming tothe revealing of an especially brilliant piece of _finesse_. "Mygeneral proposal is this. Let you and your company march throughPraeneste,--of course carefully timing your march so as to find theinnocent and unfortunate Drusus at his farm. You will have a verydisorderly band of gladiators, and they begin to attack Drusus'sorchard, and maltreat his slaves. You try to stop them,--withoutavail. Finally, in a most unfortunate and outrageous outbreak theyslay the master of the house. The tumult is quelled. The heirs proceedagainst you. You can only hand over the murderers for crucifixion, andoffer to pay any money damages that may be imposed. A heavy fine islaid upon you, as being responsible for the killing of Drusus by yourslaves. You pay the damages. Ahenobarbus marries Cornelia and entersupon the estate. The world says that all that can be done to atone forDrusus's murder has been done. All of the guilty are punished. Thedead cannot be recalled. The matter is at an end. Ahenobarbus has whathe wished for; you have all the money you paid in damages quietlyrefunded; also the cost of the poor rascals crucified, and a fair sumover and above for your trouble."
"By the god Belew!"[65] cried the enthusiastic Dumnorix. "What aclever plan! How the world will be cheated! Ha! ha! How sharp youlittle Greeks must be. Only I must have fair return for my work, andan oath that the business shall never be coming to the point of givingmy eyes to the crows. I can't risk my life in anything but a squarefight."
[65] The Gallic sun-god.
"Well," said Pratinas, after a few words with his companion, "how willthis proposition suit you? All expenses, before and after the affairitself, of course refunded; one hundred thousand sesterces clear gainfor doing the deed, twenty-five thousand sesterces for every poorfellow we have to nail up to satisfy the law, and you to be guaranteedagainst any evil consequence. Is this sufficient?"
"I think so," growled Dumnorix, in his mustaches, "but I must have theoath."
"The oath?" said Pratinas, "oh, certainly!" and the Greek raised hishands toward heaven, and muttered some words to the effect that "if heand his friend did not fulfil their oath, let Zeus, the regarder ofoaths, destroy them," etc., etc.--an imprecation which certainly, sofar as words went, was strong enough to bind the most graceless. Thenhe proceeded to arrange with Dumnorix how the latter should wait untilit was known Drusus had gone back to Praeneste, and was likely to staythere for some time; as to how many gladiators the lanista was to haveready. Dumnorix complained that the rather recent law against keepinggladiators at Rome prevented him from assembling in his school anyconsiderable number. But out of his heterogeneous collection of Gauls,Germans, Spaniards, Greeks, and Asiatics he would find enough whocould be used for the purpose without letting them know the fullintent with which they were launched against Drusus. At all events, iftheir testimony was taken, it would have to be as slaves on the rack;and if they accused their master of instigating them to riot, it waswhat any person would expect of such degraded and lying wretches. So,after promising to come again with final word and some bags ofearnest-money, Pratinas parted with the lanista, and he and LuciusAhenobarbus found themselves again in the now entirely darkened CampusMartius. Lucius again feared brigands, but they fell in with nounpleasant nocturnal wayfarers, and reached the city without incident.Ahenobarbus seemed to himself to be treading on air--Cornelia, villas,Drusus's money--these were dancing in his head in a delightfulconfusion. He had abandoned himself completely to the sway ofPratinas; the Greek was omniscient, was invincible, was a greater thanOdysseus. Ahenobarbus hardly dared to think for himself as to the planwhich his friend had arranged for him. One observation, however, hemade before they parted.
"You swore that Dumnorix should get into no trouble. May it not proveexpensive to keep him out of difficulty?"
"My dear Lucius," replied Pratinas, "in cases of that kind there is aline from the Hippolytus of the immortal tragedian Euripides, whichindicates the correct attitude for a philosopher and a man ofdiscretion to assume. It runs thus,--
"'My tongue an oath took, but my mind's unsworn.'
Not an inelegant sentiment, as you must see."
III
We left the excellent man of learning, Pisander, in no happy frame ofmind, after Agias had been dragged away, presumably to speedy doom.And indeed for many days the shadow of Valeria's crime, for it wasnothing else, plunged him in deep melancho
ly. Pisander was not a fool,only amongst his many good qualities he did not possess that of beingable to make a success in life. He had been tutor to a young Asiaticprince, and had lost his position by a local revolution; then he haddrifted to Alexandria, and finally Rome, where he had struggled firstto teach philosophy, and found no pupils to listen to his lectures;then to conduct an elementary school, but his scholars' parents werebackward in paying even the modest fees he charged. Finally, in sheerdespair, to keep from starving, he accepted the position as Valeria's"house-philosopher."
His condition was infinitely unsatisfactory for a variety of reasons.The good lady wished him to be at her elbow, ready to read from thephilosophers or have on hand a talk on ethics or metaphysics todeliver extempore. Besides, though not a slave or freedman, he faredin the household much worse sometimes than they. A slave stole thedainties, and drained a beaker of costly wine on the sly. Pisander,like Thales, who was so intent looking at the stars that he fell intoa well, "was so eager to know what was going on in heaven that hecould not see what was before his feet."[66] And consequently the poorpedant dined on the remnants left after his employer and her husbandhad cleared the board; and had rancid oil and sour wine given him,when they enjoyed the best. The slaves had snubbed him and made fun ofhim; the freedmen regarded him with absolute disdain; Valeria'sregular visitors treated him as a nonentity. Besides, all hisstandards of ethical righteousness were outraged by the round of lifewhich he was compelled daily to witness. The worthy man would longbefore have ceased from a vassalage so disgraceful, had he possessedany other means of support. Once he meditated suicide, but was scaredout of it by the thought that his bones would moulder in those hugepits on the Esquiline--far from friend or native land--where artisans,slaves, and cattle, creatures alike without means of decent burial,were left under circumstances unspeakably revolting to moulder away todust.
[66] See Plato's "Theaetetus," 174.
The day of Agias's misfortune, Pisander sat in his corner of theboudoir, after Valeria had left it, in a very unphilosophical rage,gnawing his beard and cursing inwardly his mistress, Pratinas, and theworld in general.
Arsinoe with a pale, strained face was moving about, replacing thebottles of cosmetics and perfumery in cabinets and caskets. Pisanderhad been kind to Arsinoe, and had taught her to read; and there was afairly firm friendship between the slave and the luckless man, whofelt himself degraded by an equal bondage.
"Poor Agias," muttered Pisander.
"Poor Agias," repeated Arsinoe, mournfully; then in some scorn, "Come,Master Pisander, now is the time to console yourself with yourphilosophy. Call out everything,--your Zeno, or Parmenides, orHeraclitus, or others of the thousand nobodies I've heard you praiseto Valeria,--and make thereby my heart a jot the less sore, or Agias'sdeath the less bitter! Don't sit there and snap at your beard, if yourphilosophy is good for anything! People used to pray to the gods introuble, but you philosophers turn the gods into mists or thin air.You are a man! You are free! Do something! Say something!"
"But what can I do?" groaned Pisander, bursting into tears, andwishing for the instant Epicureans, Stoics, Eclectics, Peripatetics,and every other school of learning in the nethermost Hades.
"_Phui!_ Fudge!" cried Arsinoe. "What is life made for then, if a manwho has spent all his days studying it is as good as helpless! Look atme! Have I not hands, feet, a head, and wits? Am I not as wellinformed and naturally capable as three fine ladies out of every four?Would I not look as handsome as they, if I had a chance to wear theirdresses and jewels? Have I any blemish, any defect, that makes mecease to be a woman, and become a thing? Bah, master _Pisander!_ I amonly a slave, but I will talk. Why does my blood boil at the fate ofAgias, if it was not meant that it should heat up for some end? Andyet I am as much a piece of property of that woman whom I hate, asthis chair or casket. I have a right to no hope, no ambition, nodesire, no reward. I can only aspire to live without brutal treatment.That would be a sort of Elysium. If I was brave enough, I would killmyself, and go to sleep and forget it all. But I am weak and cowardly,and so--here I am."
Pisander only groaned and went away to his room to turn over hisAristotle, and wonder why nothing in the "Nicomachean Ethics" or anyother learned treatise contained the least word that made himcontented over the fate of Agias or his own unhappy situation. Arsinoeand Semiramis, when he went from them, cried, and cried again, in pityand helpless grief at their whole situation. And so a considerablenumber of days passed. Calatinus could have given joy to the hearts ofseveral in his household if he had simply remembered that Agias hadnot been scourged to death, but sold. But Calatinus feared, now thathe was well out of the matter, to stir up an angry scene with hiswife, by hinting that Agias had not been punished according to herorders. Alfidius, too, and the other slaves with him, imagined thathis mistress would blame them if they admitted that Agias was alive.So the household gathered, by the silence of all concerned, that thebright Greek boy had long since passed beyond power of human torment.Pisander recovered part of his equanimity, and Arsinoe and Semiramisbegan to see life a shade less darkened.
Pratinas occasionally repeated his morning calls upon Valeria. Heseemed much engrossed with business, but was always the same suave,elegant, accomplished personage that had endeared him to that lady'sheart. One morning he came in, in unusually good spirits."Congratulate me," he exclaimed, after saluting Valeria; "I havedisposed of a very delicate piece of work, and my mind can take alittle rest. At least I have roughly chiselled out the matter, as asculptor would say, and can now wait a bit before finishing. Ah! whatelegant study is this which is engrossing your ladyship this morning?"
"Pisander is reading from the works of Gorgias of Leontini," saidValeria, languidly.
"To be sure," went on Pratinas; "I have always had the greatestrespect for the three nihilistic propositions of that philosopher. Toread him one is half convinced of the affirmation that nothing exists;that if anything existed, the fact could not be known, and that if thefact were known, it could not be communicated; although of course, mydear madam, there are very grave objections to accepting such views intheir fulness."
"Of course," echoed Valeria. "Pisander, read Pratinas that little poemof Archilochus, whose sentiment I so much admired, when I happened onit yesterday."
Pisander fumbled among his rolls, then read, perhaps throwing a bit ofsarcasm into his tone:--
"Gyges'[67] wealth and honours great Come not nigh to me! Heavenly pow'r, or tyrant's state, I'll not envy thee. Swift let any sordid prize Fade and vanish from my eyes!"
[67] A Lydian king whose wealth was placed on a par with that of the better known Croesus.
"Your ladyship," said Pratinas, appearing entranced by the lines, "isever in search of the pearls of refined expression!"
"I wish," said Valeria, whose mind ran from Gorgias to Archilochus,and then back to quite foreign matters, with lightning rapidity, "youwould tell Kallias, the sculptor, that the head-dress on my statue inthe atrium must be changed. I don't arrange my hair that way anylonger. He must put on a new head-dress without delay."[68]
[68] Such alterations were actually made in Rome.
"Certainly," assented the Greek.
"And now," said the lady, half entreating, half insinuating, "_youmust_ tell me what has made you so abstracted lately; that businessyou mentioned, which compelled you to restrict your calls."
"My dear Valeria," said Pratinas, casting a glance over at Pisander inhis corner, "I dislike mysteries; but perhaps there are some thingswhich I had better not reveal to any one. Don't be offended, but--"
"I am offended," exclaimed the lady, striking her lap with her hands,"and I accept no '_buts_.' I will be as silent about all your affairsas about the mysteries of the _Bona Dea_.[69]"
[69] To whose mysteries only women were admitted.
"I believe I can be confident you will not betray me," said Pratinas,who in fact considered precautions that were necessary to take amongso blundering and thick-witted peopl
e as the Latins, almostsuperfluous. He muttered to himself, "I wouldn't dare to do this inAlexandria,--prate of a murder,--" and then glanced again towardPisander.
"Pisander," said Valeria, sharply, noting Pratinas's disquietude, "goout of the room. I don't need you at present."
Pisander, unlike many contemporaries, was affected by a sensitiveconscience. But if there was one man whom he despised to the bottom ofhis soul, it was Pratinas. Pratinas had lorded it over him andpatronized him, in a way which drove the mild-tempered man of learningto desperation. The spirit of evil entered into the heart of Pisanderas he left the room. The average chatter of Pratinas and Valeria hadbeen gall and wormwood to him, and he had been glad enough to evadeit; but here was Pratinas with a secret which he clearly did not wishPisander to know. And Pisander, prompted by most unphilosophicalmotives, resolved within himself to play the eavesdropper. The boudoirwas approached by three doors, one from the peristylium, one fromValeria's private sleeping chamber, one from the servants' quarters.Pisander went out through the first, and going through other rooms tothe third, took his station by that entrance. He met Arsinoe, and tookthe friendly maid into his plot, by stationing her on guard to preventthe other servants from interfering with him. Then applying his ear tothe large keyhole of the door, he could understand all that waspassing in the boudoir. What Pratinas was saying it is hardlynecessary to repeat. The Greek was relating with infinite zest, and toValeria's intense delight and amusement, the story of the two willswhich placed Drusus's estate and the hand of Cornelia within reach ofLucius Ahenobarbus; of the manner in which this last young man hadbeen induced to take steps to make way with an unfortunate rival.Finally, in a low, half-audible tone, he told of the provisionalarrangements with Dumnorix, and how very soon the plan was to be putin execution.
"And you must be sure and tell me," cried Valeria, clapping her handswhen Pratinas concluded, "what the details of the affair all are, andwhen and how you succeed. Poor Quintus Drusus! I am really sorry forhim. But when one doesn't make use of what Fortune has given him,there is nothing else to do!"
"Yes," said Pratinas, sententiously. "He who fails to realize what isfor him the highest good, forfeits, thereby, the right to lifeitself."
Pisander slipped away from the keyhole, with a white face, and pantingfor breath. Briefly, he repeated what he had gathered to Arsinoe, thenblurted out:--
"I will go in and meet that well-oiled villain face to face. By Zeus!I will make him feel the depths of an honest man's scorn andindignation!"
"You will be a fool," replied Arsinoe, quietly, "if you do. Valeriawould instantly dismiss you from her service."
"I will go at once to Drusus," asserted Pisander.
"Drusus may or may not be convinced that what you say is true,"answered the girl; "but he, I gather from what you repeat, has justgone back to Praeneste. Before you could reach Praeneste, you are a deadman."
"How so?" demanded the excited philosopher, brandishing his fists. "Iam as strong as Pratinas."
"How little wisdom," commented Arsinoe, "you do gather from yourbooks! Can't you see Pratinas is a reckless scoundrel--with everygladiator in Dumnorix's school at his call if needs be--who would stopat nothing to silence promptly the mouth of a dangerous witness? Thisisn't worse than many another case. Don't share the ruin of a man whois an utter stranger! We have troubles enough of our own."
And with this consolation Arsinoe left him, again consumed withimpotent rage.
"Villain," fumed Pisander to himself, "if I could only place myfingers round your neck! But what can I do? What can I do? I amhelpless, friendless, penniless! And I can only tear out my heart, andpretend to play the philosopher. I, a philosopher! If I were a trueone, I would have had the courage to kill myself before this."
And in this mental state he continued, till he learned that Pratinashad taken his farewell, and that Calatinus wished him--since all theslaves seemed busy, and the poor house philosopher was often sent onmenial errands--to go to the _Forum Boarium_,[70] and bring back someribs of beef for a dinner that evening. Pisander went as bidden,tugging a large basket, and trying to muster up courage to continuehis walk to the Fabrician Bridge, and plunge into the Tiber. Inclassic days suicide was a commendable act under a great manycircumstances, and Pisander was perfectly serious and sincere in hisbelief that he and the world had been companions too long for the goodof either. But the jar and din of the streets certainly served to makeconnected philosophical meditation upon the futility and unimportanceof human existence decidedly unfruitful. By the time he reached thecattle-market the noise of this strange place drove all suicidalintentions from him. Butchers were slaughtering kine; drovers weredriving oxen off of barges that had come down the Tiber; sheep andgoats were bleating--everywhere around the stalls, booths, shops, andpens was the bustle of an enormous traffic. Pisander picked his waythrough the crowd, searching for the butcher to whom he had beenespecially sent. He had gone as far as the ancient shrine of MaterMatuta, which found place in these seemingly unhallowed precincts,when, as he gazed into the throng before him, his hair stood as itwere on end, his voice choked in his throat, and cold sweat broke outover him. The next moment his hand was seized by another, young andhearty, and he was gasping forth the name of Agias.
[70] Cattle-market.
A Friend of Cæsar: A Tale of the Fall of the Roman Republic. Time, 50-47 B.C. Page 5