Chapter VIII
"When Greek Meets Greek"
I
Cornelia had surmised correctly that Pratinas, not Lucius Ahenobarbus,would be the one to bring the plot against Drusus to an issue. Luciushad tried in vain to escape from the snares the wily intriguer hadcast about him. His father had told him that if he would settle downand lead a moderately respectable life, Phormio should be paid off.And with this burden off his mind, for reformation was very easilypromised, Lucius had time to consider whether it was worth his whileto mix in a deed that none of Pratinas's casuistry could quiteconvince him was not a foul, unprovoked murder, of an innocent man.The truth was, Ahenobarbus was desperately in love with Cornelia, andhad neither time nor desire to mingle in any business not connectedwith the pursuit of his "tender passion." None of his formersweethearts--and he had had almost as many as he was years old--werecomparable in his eyes to her. She belonged to a different world fromthat of the Spanish dancers, the saucy maidens of Greece, or even themany noble-born Roman women that seemed caught in the eddy of Clodia'sfashionable whirlpool. Lucius frankly told himself that he would wantto be divorced from Cornelia in five years--it would be tedious tokeep company longer with a goddess. But for the present her vivacity,her wit, her bright intelligence, no less than her beauty, charmedhim. And he was rejoiced to believe that she was quite as muchensnared by his own attractions. He did not want any unhappy accidentto mar the smooth course which was to lead up to the marriage in nodistant future. He did not need Drusus's money any longer to save himfrom bankruptcy. The legacy would be highly desirable, but life wouldbe very pleasant without it. Lucius was almost induced by his inwardqualms to tell Pratinas to throw over the whole matter, and informDumnorix that his services were not needed.
It was at this juncture that Cornelia committed an error, the fullconsequences of which were, to her, happily veiled. In her anxiety todiscover the plot, she had made Lucius believe that she was reallypining for the news of the murder of Drusus. Cornelia had actuallylearned nothing by a sacrifice that tore her very heart out; but herwords and actions did almost irreparable harm to the cause she wastrying to aid.
"And you have never given me a kiss," Lucius had said one morning,when he was taking leave of Cornelia in the atrium of the Lentuli."Will you ever play the siren, and lure me to you? and then devour, asit were, your victim, not with your lips, but with your eyes?"
"_Eho!_ Not so bold!" replied Cornelia, drawing back. "How can I giveyou what you wish, unless I am safe from that awful Polyphemus up inPraeneste?"
When Ahenobarbus went away, his thoughts were to the following effect:"I had always thought Cornelia different from most women; but now Ican see that, like them all, she hates and hates. To say to her,'Drusus is dead,' will be a more grateful present than the largestdiamond Lucullus brought from the East, from the treasure of KingTigranes."
And it was in such a frame of mind that he met Pratinas by appointmentat a low tavern on the Vicus Tuscus. The Greek was, as ever, smilingand plausible.
"Congratulations!" was his greeting. "Dumnorix has already started. Hehas my orders; and now I must borrow your excellent freedman, Phaon,to go to Praeneste and spy out, for the last time, the land, andgeneral our army. Let him start early to-morrow morning. The time isample, and unless some malevolent demon hinder us, there will be nofailure. I have had a watch kept over the Drusus estate. An old sentryof a steward, Mamercus,--so I learn,--has been afraid, evidently, ofsome foul play on the part of the consul-designate, and has stationeda few armed freedmen on guard. Drusus himself keeps very carefully onhis own premises. This is all the better for us. Dumnorix will disposeof the freedmen in a hurry, and our man will be in waiting there justfor the gladiators. Phaon will visit him--cook up some errand, andinveigle him, if possible, well out in the colonnade in front of thehouse, before Dumnorix and his band pass by. Then there will be thatvery deplorable scuffle, and its sad, sad results. Alas, poor Drusus!Another noble Livian gathered to his fathers!"
"I don't feel very merry about it," ventured Lucius. "I don't needDrusus's money as much as I did. If it wasn't for Cornelia, I woulddrop it all, even now. Sometimes I feel there are avengingFuries--_Dirae_, we Latins call them--haunting me."
Pratinas laughed incredulously. "Surely, my dear fellow," he began,"you don't need to have the old superstitions explained away again, doyou?"
"No, no," was his answer; Lucius capitulating another time.
So it came to pass that Pratinas had an interview with Phaon, Lucius'sfreedman, a sleek, well-oiled Sicilian Greek, who wore his hair verylong to cover the holes bored in his ears--the mark of old-timeservitude. He was the darling of waiting-maids; the collector of allcurrent scandal; the master spirit in arranging dinners, able to tella Tuscan from a Lucanian boar by mere taste. He used also to help hispatron compose _billets-doux,_ and had, by his twistings andscrapings, repeatedly staved off Phormio, Lucius's importunatecreditor. As for Phaon's heart, it was so soft and tender that thepricks of conscience, if he ever had any, went straight through,without leaving a trace behind. And when Pratinas now informed him asto his final duties at Praeneste, Phaon rubbed his beringed hands andsmoothed his carefully scraped chin with ill-concealed satisfaction.
"And a word more in closing," said Pratinas, as he parted with Phaonin the tavern--while Lucius, who had been drinking very heavily,nodded stupidly over his goblet of amber Falernian, in a vain attemptto gulp down eight _cyathi_ at once, one measure to each letter in thename of Cornelia--"a word more. Dumnorix is a thick-skulled knave, whois, after all, good for little but blows. I have made an arrangementwhich will ensure having a careful man at his elbow in time of need.You, of course, will have to do your best to save the unfortunateQuintus from inevitable fate. But I have asked Publius Gabinius toleave for Praeneste very early on the morning when Dumnorix passesthrough that place. Gabinius has a small villa a little beyond thetown, and there will be nothing suspicious in a journey to visit one'scountry house. He will meet Dumnorix, and be at his side when thepinch comes. You see? He is an adventurous fellow, and will help usjust for the sake of the mischief. Besides, I believe he has a grudgeagainst the Drusian family as a whole, for he lately tried to passsome familiarities with Fabia the Vestal, Drusus's aunt, and sheproved disgustingly prudish."
"And how much will you and I," said Phaon, with a sly smirk, "gainout of this little business, if all goes well? Of course one shouldhelp one's patron, but--"
"It is folly to divide the spoils of Troy before Troy is taken,"laughed Pratinas. "Don't be alarmed, my good fellow. Your excellentpatron will reward us, no doubt, amply." And he muttered to himself:"If I don't bleed that Lucius Ahenobarbus, that Roman donkey, out oftwo-thirds of his new fortune; if I don't levy blackmail on himwithout mercy when he's committed himself, and becomes a partner incrime, I'm no fox of a Hellene. I wonder that he is the son of a manlike Domitius, who was so shrewd in that old affair with me atAntioch."
* * * * *
So it came to pass that the next morning, long before Pratinas andAhenobarbus met in the Forum and reviewed the steps taken in the wordsthat gave Sesostris the key to the situation, Phaon was driving towardPraeneste. Of course a mere freedman, on a journey preferably keptquiet, travelled in not the least state. He rode alone, but hadborrowed from his patron two of those small but speedy Gallic horsescalled mammi, that whirled his gig over the Campagna at a rapid trot.Still there was no great call for haste. He wished to get to Praenesteabout dark, and there make a few inquiries as to the whereabouts andrecent doings of Drusus. Pratinas had had considerable espionage keptup over his intended victim, and the last results of this detectivework were to be reported to Phaon by the slaves of Ahenobarbusperforming it. Perhaps there would be no real harm in driving straightthrough to Praeneste in the open daylight, but it was better not toshow himself until the right time. So it was that, halfway on theroad, Phaon turned in to the tavern of the decaying little town ofGabii, gave his team to the hostler, and rested
himself by fuming overthe squalor and poor cooking of the inn.
II
Agias secured the fast Numidian from the stables of Gallus, and wassoon away. His frequent journeys between Rome and Praeneste, in serviceof Cornelia and Drusus, made him a fairly expert rider, and his noblemount went pounding past the mile-stones at a steady, untiring gallop.The young Hellene was all tingling with excitement and expectation; hewould save Drusus; he would send the roses back into his belovedmistress's cheeks; and they would reward him, give him freedom; andthen the future would be bright indeed.
But it grew late, fast as the horse bore him. He felt it his duty topress on with all speed to Praeneste. He had still a very vague notionof the final form of the conspiracy, especially of the role assignedto Phaon. Of one thing he was certain: to intercept Phaon was todeprive Dumnorix of an essential ally; but how to intercept the wilyfreedman was nothing easy.
As the Numidian swept into Gabii, Agias drew rein, telling himselfthat the horse would make better speed for a little rest and baiting.The tavern court into which he rode was exceedingly filthy; the wholebuilding was in a state of decay; the odours were indescribable. Inthe great public-room a carter was trolling a coarse ditty, whilethrough the doorway ran a screaming serving-maid to escape some lowfamiliarity.
A shock-headed boy with a lantern took Agias's bridle, and the Greekalighted; almost under his eyes the dim light fell on a handsome,two-horse gig, standing beside the entrance to the court. Agias gavethe vehicle close attention.
"It belongs to a gentleman from Rome, now inside," explained the boy,"one horse went lame, and the veterinary[103] is coming." Agias's eyecaught a very peculiar bend in the hollow in the neck-yoke. He hadseen that carriage before, on the fashionable boulevards--along theTiber, in the Campus Martius--the carriage of Lucius Ahenobarbus.Phaon was waiting in the tavern!
[103] _Equarius_.
"Care for my horse at once," remarked Agias, a little abruptly. "Timepresses." And he turned on his heel, and leaving the boy gaping afterhim, went into the squalid public-room of the tavern.
The landlord of the establishment, a small, red-faced, bustling man,was fussing over some lean thrushes roasting on a spit before the openfire that was roaring on the hearth. The landlady, lazy, muscular,corpulent, and high-voiced, was expostulating with a pedler who wastrying to slip out without settling. Four other persons, slaves andpeasants, were sitting on two low benches beside a small, circulartable, and were busy pouring down the liquor which a young serving-boybrought them in tumbler-shaped cups, or eating greedily at loaves ofcoarse bread which they snatched from the table. It was so late thatlittle light came into the room from the door and windows. The greatfire tossed its red, flickering glow out into the apartment and cast arosy halo over the hard brown marble pavement of the floor. Upon thedingy walls and rafters hung from pegs flitches of bacon, sausages,and nets of vegetables. Agias stopped in the doorway and waited tillhis eyes were fairly accustomed to the fire-light. Over in a remotecorner he saw a lamp gleaming, and there, sprawling on a bench, besidea table of his own, well piled with food and drink, he distinguishedin solitary majesty Phaon--too exquisite to mingle with the otherguests of the tavern.
The landlord quickly noticed his new customer, and sprang up from thefire. Agias had on a coarse grey woollen cloak over his light tunic,and he drew his hood up so as partly to cover his face as he steppedinto the room.
"_Salve!_" was the landlord's salutation. "What hospitality can theElephant[104] afford you?"
[104] Inns were known by such signs.
The good host did not think Agias anything more by his dress than acommon slave, and saw no need of excessive politeness.
Agias noticed that he was expected to join the other drinkers aroundthe centre table.
"_Eho_, mine host!" cried he, letting the fire give one glint on agold piece. "Can't you give me a seat at the other end of the room? Idon't know these good people, and they won't thank me for thrustingmyself on them."
"Certainly, certainly," exclaimed the landlord, all condescension."There is a gentleman from Rome drinking by himself at that table overthere. Perhaps he will not object."
Now was the crisis. Agias had seen Phaon many times with LuciusAhenobarbus; but he was reasonably certain that the freedman had neverdegraded himself by taking any notice of the numerous slaves ofLentulus's household. Without waiting for the host to continue, hehastened over to the farther table, and exclaimed with all theeffrontery at his command:--
"_Hem!_ Phaon; don't you remember an old friend?"
The freedman for once was completely off his guard. He started up,stared at Agias, and began to mutter excuses for a very short memory.
"Well, well," cried Agias. "You _have_ a poor recollection of faces!Don't you remember how Pratinas took you to the Big Eagle restaurant,down on the Vicus Jugarius, on the last Calends, and how you met methere, and what good Lesbian and Chian wine there was? None of yourweak, sickening Italian stuff! Surely you remember Cleombrotus, fromwhom you won four hundred sesterces."
Phaon, who remembered the tavern, a visit, and winning four hundredsesterces at one time or another, tried to make himself believe thathe won them from a young man, like the one before him, and that hisname was Cleombrotus.
"Um! Yes, of course," he faltered. "I'm very glad to see you. Whatbrings you here?"
"Business, business," complained Agias; "my master's a grain merchantwith dealings at Puteoli, and he has sent me thither, to make somepayments." Phaon pricked up his ears. "The Via Appia is more direct,but there is less chance of robbers by the Via Praenestina."
"I hope your master can trust you not to lighten his pouch on theway," remarked Phaon.
"Well," chuckled Agias, "he'll have to take his risk. If it's lost onthe road, why, highwaymen stripped me. It is one of the fortunes oftrade." Phaon was fully convinced that here was a fine chance to dosome picking on his own account.
"Doubtless," he began, "you are not in such haste that you cannotenjoy one of those thrushes that sheep of a landlord is roasting forme. _Phui!_ What a nasty place to have one's horse give out in. Youwill give me at least a little company to pass the time?"
Agias affected reluctance; then as the host brought up the birds,savory and hot, on an earthen platter, he gracefully accepted theinvitation. The thrushes and the rest of the bill of fare, bacon,sweet nut-flavoured oil, bread, and the cheap wine of the Campagnawere not unwelcome, though Phaon cursed the coarse food roundly. Then,when hunger had begun to yield, Phaon suggested that Cleombrotus "tryto secure revenge for his losses on the Calends"; and Agias, nothingloth, replied that he did not wish to risk a great sum; but if adenarius were worth playing for, there was no objection to venturing afew casts, and "he would ask the host to bring them the gamingimplements."
So the landlord brought dice and dice boxes, and Phaon--who had cometo the conclusion that he had to deal with a light-headed bumpkin, whorepresented merely so much fair plunder--began to play with a carelessheart. The landlord brought more and more flagons of wine, wine thatwas mixed with little water and was consequently very heady. But thegame--with some veering of fortune--went the freedman's way. He won adenarius; then another; then a third; lost a fourth time; won backeverything and five denarii more; and finally his opponent, heatedwith play, consented to stake two gold pieces.
"What did you say a minute ago to the landlord?" muttered Phaon,feeling that the undiluted liquor was getting the best of him. "Thiswine is very strong. It makes my head ache."
"_Phy!_" retorted Agias. "Who complains of good liquor? I only toldthe host to set another lamp near us. Shall we play again?"
"By Zeus!" exclaimed the delighted freedman. "Here I have cast four'sixes' once more." And again he drained the beaker.
"_Vah!_" sniffed Agias. "Luck will turn at last. Let us play for realstakes. More wine, mine host! I will put down ten philippi. This willbe worth winning or losing."
"As you say," gleefully chuckled Phaon, tossing the gold on the table."Y
es, more wine, I say too. One always enjoys play when his templesare all athrob."
Agias quietly reached over, took up his opponent's dice box, andrattled it, and appeared inspecting and fingering the _tali_.[105]"You have won your throws fairly," he said, handing it back. "Now letus invoke the decision of Fortune once more. A libation to the Geniusof Good Luck!" And instead of spilling out a few drops only, he cantedthe flagon too far and spattered the wine on to the floor.
[105] Four-sided dice.
"Heracles!" growled Phaon, "what a poor hazard! I have thrown four'ones'!"
"And I have all 'fours' and 'sixes,'" cried Agias, in delight,sweeping the money toward him.
"The gods blast my luck," muttered the freedman, "I shall be ruined atthis rate." And he poured down more liquor. "I have hardly fivephilippi left."
"Come," shouted Agias, jumping up; "I make a fair offer. Your fivephilippi against all my winnings."
Phaon had a dim consciousness that he was getting very drunk, that heought to start at once for Praeneste, and that it was absolutelyneedful for him to have some money for bribes and gratuities if he wasnot to jeopardize seriously the success of his undertaking. But Agiasstood before him exultant and provoking. The freedman could not beinduced to confess to himself that he had been badly fleeced by afellow he expected to plunder. In drunken desperation he pulled outhis last gold and threw it on the table.
"Play for that, and all the Furies curse me if I lose," he stormed.
Agias cast two "threes," two "fours."
"I must better that," thundered the freedman, slapping the tali out onto the table.
"'Ones' again," roared Agias; "all four! you have lost!"
Phaon sprang up in a storm of anger, and struck over the dice. "Threeof them are 'sixes,'" he raged. "I have won! You got loaded dice fromthe landlord, just now, when he brought the wine!"
"Not at all, you cheating scoundrel," retorted Agias, who had alreadyscooped in the money, "I have you fairly enough."
"Fair?" shouted Phaon, dashing down the dice again, "they are loaded!Lack-shame! Villain! Whipping-post! Tomb-robber! Gallows-bird! Youchanged them when you pretended to inspect them! Give me my money,thief, or--" and he took a menacing but unsteady step toward Agias.
The young Greek was ready for the emergency. He knew that Phaon wasalmost overcome with his wine, and had no dread of the issue. A strokeof his fist sent the freedman reeling back against the wall, all thewind pounded from his chest. "You born blackguard," coughed Phaon, "Iwon it." Agias was renewing the attack, when the landlord interfered.Seizing both of the gamesters by their cloaks, he pushed them out aside door into the court-yard. "Out with you!" cried the host."Quarrel without, if you must! This is no place for brawls."
Phaon staggered a step or two out into the dark, then reeled and fellheavily upon the dirty pavement. Agias prodded him with his foot, buthe was quite insensible. For the present he was harmless enough.
"My good host," said Agias, to the disquieted landlord, "I did not askyou to give us an unmixed wine and those dice for no purpose. Thisexcellent gentleman here seems sadly in need of a bed, where he muststay for some time. But since I have won every sesterce he owns I mustneeds pay for his board. Take good care of him, and here are sixphilippi which are yours on condition that you keep him quiet untilto-morrow at this time, and suffer no one coming from Rome to see him,or send him a message. To-morrow evening a messenger from Praenestewill come here, and if your guest is still safe in your custody, youshall have six more gold pieces. At that time, doubtless, you can lethim go; but don't violate my orders, or--"
"Your excellency pays like a senator," said the landlord, bowing, ashe fingered the gold. "Trust me that your wishes shall be obeyed."
"They had better be," hinted Agias. "I am not what I seem by my dress.If you disobey, fear the wrath of a man before whom the worldtrembles!"
"He must be an agent of Caesar, or Pompeius," muttered the landlord tohimself. And Agias, having seen two serving-boys tugging Phaon's proneweight away to a secluded hay-mow, called for his refreshed Numidian,clattered out of the filthy court, and rode away into the night, withthe stars burning above him.
A Friend of Cæsar: A Tale of the Fall of the Roman Republic. Time, 50-47 B.C. Page 9