Chapter IX
How Gabinius Met with a Rebuff
I
Publius Gabinius, the boon comrade of Lucius Ahenobarbus, differedlittle from many another man of his age in mode of life, or variety ofaspirations. He had run through all the fashionable excitements of theday; was tired of horse-racing, peacock dinners, Oriental sweethearts;tired even of dice. And of late he had begun to grow morose, and hisfriends commenced to think him rather dull company.
But for some days he had found a new object of interest. With LuciusAhenobarbus he had been at the Circus Flaminius, waiting for the racesto begin, when he startled his friend by a clutch on the arm.
"Look!" was Gabinius's exclamation. "Is she not beautiful?"
He pointed to where Fabia, the Vestal, was taking her seat upon acushion placed for her by a maid, and all the people around werestanding, very respectfully, until she was seated The priestess wasclothed in perfect white,--dress, ribbons, fillet--a notable contrastto the brave show of purple, and scarlet, and blue mantles all abouther.
"Beautiful? Yes," repeated Lucius, rather carelessly. "But such birdsare not for our net."
"Are not?" repeated Gabinius, a little sharply. "What makes you sosure of that?"
"I hardly think that you will find my dear friend Quintus Drusus'saunt, for so I understand she is," said Ahenobarbus, "very likely toreciprocate your devotion."
"And why not?" reiterated Gabinius, in a vexed tone.
"My dear fellow," answered Lucius, "I won't argue with you. There areplenty of women in Rome quite as handsome as Fabia, and much younger,who will smile on you. Don't meddle in a business that is toodangerous to be profitable."
But Gabinius had been wrought up to a pitch of amorous excitement,from which Ahenobarbus was the last one to move him. For days he hadhaunted the footsteps of the Vestal; had contrived to thrust himselfas near to her in the theatre and circus as possible; had bribed oneof the Temple servants to steal for him a small panel painting ofFabia; had, in fact, poured over his last romance all the ardour andpassion of an intense, violent, uncontrolled nature. Gabinius was notthe kind of a man either to analyze his motives, or express himself inthe sobbing lyrics of a Catullus. He was thrilled with a fiercepassion, and knew it, and it only. Therefore he merely replied toLucius Ahenobarbus:--
"I can't help myself. What does Terence say about a like case? 'Thisindeed can, to some degree, be endured; night, passion, liquor, youngblood, urged him on; it's only human nature.'"[106]
[106] Terence, "Adelphoe," 467 and 471.
And all the afternoon, while the chariots ran, and wager on wagermarked the excitement of the cloud of spectators, Gabinius had onlyeyes for one object, Fabia, who, perfectly unconscious of his state offascination, sat with flushed cheeks and bright, eager eyes, watchingthe fortunes of the races, or turned now and then to speak a few wordsto little Livia, who was at her side. When the games were over,Gabinius struggled through the crowd after the Vestal, and kept nearto her until she had reached her litter and the eight red-liveriedCappadocian porters bore her away. Gabinius continued to gaze afterher until Fabia drew the leather curtains of her conveyance and washid from sight.
"_Perpol!"_ reflected Gabinius. "How utterly enslaved I am!"
* * * * *
The following morning Fabia received a letter in a strange hand,asking her to come to a villa outside the Porta Capena, and receive awill from one Titus Denter, who lay dying. The receiving andsafe-keeping of wills was a regular duty of Vestals, and Fabia at oncesummoned her litter, and started out of the city, along the Via Appia,until, far out in the suburbs where the houses were wide apart, shewas set down before the country-house indicated. A stupid-appearingslave-boy received her at the gateway. The villa was old, small, andin very indifferent repair. The slave could not seem to explainwhether it had been occupied of late, but hastened to declare that hismaster lay nigh to death. There was no porter in the outervestibule.[107] The heavy inner door turned slowly on its pivot, bysome inside force, and disclosed a small, darkened atrium, onlylighted by a clear sunbeam from the opening above, that passed throughand illumined a playing fountain. A single attendant stood in thedoorway. He was a tall, gaunt man in servile dress, with a rathersickly smile on his sharp yellow face. Fabia alighted from her litter.There was a certain secluded uncanniness about the house, which madeher dislike for an instant to enter. The slave in the door silentlybeckoned for her to come in. The Vestal informed her bearers that shewas likely to be absent some little time, and they must wait quietlywithout, and not annoy a dying man with unseemly laughter or loudconversation. Then, without hesitancy, Fabia gathered her priestess'scloak about her, and boldly entered the strange atrium. As she did so,the attendant noiselessly closed the door, and what was further, shothome a bolt.
[107] _Ostium_.
"There is no need for that," remarked the Vestal, who never before inher life had experienced such an unaccountable sense of disquietude.
"It is my habit always to push the bolt," said the slave, bowing, andleading the way toward the peristylium.
"You are Titus Denter's slave?" asked Fabia. The other nodded. "Andyour master is a very sick man?"
"Your most noble ladyship shall judge for herself."
"Take me to him at once, if he can see me."
"He is waiting."
The two went through the narrow passageway which led from the outercourt of the atrium into the inner court of the peristylium. Fabia wassurprised to see that here all the marble work had been carefullywashed clean, the little enclosed garden was in beautiful order, andin various corners and behind some of the pillars were bronze andsculptured statues of really choice art. The slave stopped and pointedto a couch upholstered in crimson, beside the fish tank, where tamelampreys were rising for a bit of food.
"Take me to your master!" repeated Fabia, puzzled by the gesture. "Iam not weary. You say he waits me?"
"He will be here," replied the servant, with another bow.
"Here?" exclaimed the Vestal, now really alarmed. "Here? He, a mansick unto death?"
"Certainly; here!" broke in a strange voice; and forth from behind apillar stepped Publius Gabinius, all pomaded and rouged, dressed onlyin a gauzy, many-folded scarlet _synthesis_.[108]
[108] The "dinner coat" of the Romans.
Fabia gave a scream and sprang back in instinctive alarm. In thetwinkling of an eye it flashed over her that for some purpose or othershe had been trapped. Gabinius she knew barely by sight; but hisreputation had come to her ears, and fame spoke nothing good of him.Yet even at the moment when she felt herself in the most imminentpersonal peril, the inbred dignity and composed hauteur of the Vestaldid not desert her. At the selfsame instant that she said to herself,"Can I escape through the atrium before they can stop me?" recoveringfrom her first surprise, and with never a quiver of eyelash or apaling of cheek, she was saying aloud, in a tone cold as ice, "Andindeed, most excellent Gabinius, you must pardon me for beingstartled; for all that I know of you tells me that you are likely tofind a sombre Vestal sorry enough company."
Gabinius had been counting coolly on a very noisy scene, one of a kindhe was fairly familiar with--an abundance of screaming, expostulation,tearing of hair, and other manifestations of feminine agony--to befollowed, of course, by ultimate submission to the will ofall-dominant man. He was not accustomed to have a woman look himfairly in the eye and speak in tones, not of bootless fury, but ofsuperior scorn. And his answer was painfully lacking in the ascendantvolubility which would have befitted the occasion.
"Forgive me; pardon; it was of course necessary to resort to somesubterfuge in order--in order to prevent your attendants from becomingsuspicious."
Fabia cast a glance behind her, and saw that before the two doorsleading to the atrium her conductor and another tall slave had placedthemselves; but she replied in a tone a little more lofty, ifpossible, than before:--
"I cannot well, sir, understand you. Are you a friend of Ti
tus Denter,who is sick? I do not see that any subterfuge is necessary when I amto receive the deposit of a will from a dying man. It is a recognizedduty of my office."
Gabinius was still more at a loss.
"You should certainly understand, lady," he began, cursing himself forhaving to resort to circumlocutions, "that this is my own villa, and Ihave not the pleasure of knowing Titus Denter. I sent the letterbecause--"
"Because, my worthy sir," interrupted Fabia, not however raising hervoice in the least, "you are weary of Greek flute-players forsweethearts or such Roman young ladies as admire either the ointmentsor the pimples of your face, and consequently seek a little diversionby laying snares for a sacred Vestal."
Gabinius at last found free use for his tongue.
"Oh, lady; Lady Fabia," he cried, stretching out his arms and taking astep nearer, "don't misjudge me so cruelly! I will forsake anything,everything, for you! I have nothing to dream of day or night but yourface. You have served your thirty years in the Temple, and can quitits service. Why entertain any superstitious scruple against doingwhat the law allows? Come with me to Egypt; to Spain; to Parthia;anywhere! Only do not reject me and my entreaties! I will do anythingfor your sake!"
Critical as was her situation, Fabia could not refrain from a sense ofhumour, when she saw and heard this creature--the last intimate shewould select in the world--pressing his suit with such genuinepassion. When she answered, an exasperating smile was on her lips.
"By Castor!" she replied, "the noble Gabinius is not a bad tragedian.If he has nothing further to inform me than that I am favoured by hisgood graces, I can only decline his proposals with humble firmness,and depart."
"By the immortal gods!" cried Gabinius, feeling that he and not hiswould-be victim were like to go into a frenzy, "you shan't go! I haveyou here. And here you shall remain until I have your word that youwill quit the Temple service and fly with me to Egypt. If you won'thave me as your slave, I'll have you as your master!" And again headvanced.
"What restrains me here?" queried Fabia, sternly, the blood sinkingfrom her cheeks, but by step or by glance quailing not in the least."Who dare restrain or offer harm to a Vestal of the Roman Republic?"
"I!" shouted Gabinius in mad defiance, with a menacing gesture.
Fabia took a step toward him, and instinctively he fell back.
"You?" she repeated, her black eyes, ablaze with the fire of a holyindignation, searching Gabinius's impure heart through and through."You, little man? Are you fond of death, and yet lack courage to drinkthe poison yourself?"
"I dare anything!" cried Gabinius, getting more and more uncontrolled."This is my house. These are my slaves. The high walls will cut offany screams you may utter in this court. I have you in my power. Youhave placed yourself in my hands by coming here. Refuse to do as Isay, and a charge will be laid against you before the _pontifices_,[109]that you have broken the vow which binds every Vestal. All theappearances will be against you, and you know what will follow then!"
[109] College of chief priests.
Fabia grew a shade paler, if it were possible, than before.
"I know," she replied, still very gently, "that an unfaithful Vestalis buried alive in the Campus Sceleratus; but I know, too, that herseducer is beaten to death with rods. Accuse me, or attack me, andwhatever be _my_ fate, I can say that which will send your black souldown to Tartarus with guilt enough for Minos to punish. Yourdelicately anointed skin would be sadly bruised by the stripes fallingupon it. And now, if these creatures will stand one side, I will leaveyou."
And Fabia drew her mantle about her, and walked straight past theawestruck slaves into the atrium, where she unbolted the door andpassed out. Gabinius stood gazing after her, half-fascinated,half-dazed. Only when the door closed did he burst out to one of theslaves:--
"Timid dog, why did you let her escape?"
"Dominus," whimpered the menial, "why did _you_ let her escape?"
"Insolence!" cried Gabinius, seizing a staff, and beating first one,then the other, of his servants indiscriminately; and so he continuedto vent his vexation, until Fabia's litter was well inside the PortaCapena.
II
Fabia had thus escaped from the clutches of Gabinius, and the latterwas sullen and foiled. But none the less the Vestal was in a tremor offear for the consequences of her meeting with the libertine. She knewthat Gabinius was determined, dexterous, and indefatigable; that hewas baffled, but not necessarily driven to throw over his illicitquest. And Fabia realized keenly that going as she had unattended intoa strange house, and remaining there some time with no friendly eye tobear witness to her actions, would count terribly against her, ifGabinius was driven to bay. She dared not, as she would gladly havedone, appear before the pontifices and demand of them that they meteout due punishment on Gabinius for grossly insulting the sanctity of aVestal. Her hope was that Gabinius would realize that he could notincriminate her without ruining himself, and that he had been sothoroughly terrified on reflection as to what might be theconsequences to himself, if he tried to follow the intrigue, that hewould prudently drop it. These considerations hardly served to lightenthe gloom which had fallen across Fabia's life. It was not so much thepersonal peril that saddened her. All her life she had heard the uglydin of the world's wickedness pass harmlessly over her head, like astorm dashing at the doors of some secluded dwelling that shielded itsinhabitants from the tempest. But now she had come personally face toface with the demon of impurity; she had felt the fetid touch almostupon herself; and it hurt, it sickened her. Therefore it was that theother Vestals marvelled, asking what change had come over theircompanion, to quench the mild sunshine of her life; and Fabia heldlittle Livia very long and very closely in her arms, as if it were asolace to feel near her an innocent little thing "unspotted of theworld."
All this had happened a very few days before the breathless Agias cameto inform Fabia of the plot against her nephew. Perhaps, as withCornelia, the fact that one near and dear was in peril aided to makethe consciousness of her own unhappiness less keen. None couldquestion Fabia's resolute energy. She sent Agias on his way, thenhurried off in her litter in quest of Caius Marcellus, the consul.AEmilius Paulus, the other consul, was a nonentity, not worth appealingto, since he had virtually abdicated office upon selling hisneutrality to Caesar. But Marcellus gave her little comfort. She brokein upon the noble lord, while he was participating in a drunkengarden-party in the Gardens of Lucullus. The consul--hardly soberenough to talk coherently--had declared that it was impossible tostart any troops that day to Praeneste. "To-morrow, when he had time,he would consider the matter." And Fabia realized that the engine ofgovernment would be very slow to set in motion in favour of a markedCaesarian.
But she had another recourse, and hastened her litter down one of thequieter streets of the Subura, where was the modest house occupied byJulius Caesar before he became Pontifex Maximus. This building was nowused by the Caesarian leaders as a sort of party headquarters. Fabiaboldly ordered the porter to summon before her Curio--whom she wassure was in the house. Much marvelling at the visit of a Vestal, theslave obeyed, and in a few moments that tribune was in her presence.
Caius Scribonius Curio was probably a very typical man of his age. Hewas personally of voluptuous habits, fearfully extravagant, endowedwith very few scruples and a very weak sense of right and wrong. Buthe was clear-headed, energetic, a good orator, a clever reasoner, anastute handler of men, courageous, versatile, full of recourse, and onthe whole above the commission of any really glaring moral infraction.He was now in his early prime, and he came before Fabia as a man tall,athletic, deep-chested, deep-voiced, with a regular profile, a clear,dark complexion, curly hair carefully dressed, freshly shaven, and inperfect toilet. It was a pleasure, in short, to come in contact withsuch a vigorous, aggressive personality, be the dark corners of hislife what they might.
Curio yielded to no man in his love of Lucrine oysters and goodCaecuban wine. But he had been spending little time on the dining couc
hthat evening. In fact he had at that moment in his hand a set oftablets on which he had been writing.
"_Salve! Domina!_" was his greeting, "what unusual honour is thiswhich brings the most noble Vestal to the trysting spot of us poorPopulares."
And, with the courtesy of a gentleman of the world, he offered Fabiaan armchair.
"Caius Curio," said the Vestal, wasting very few words, "do you knowmy nephew, Quintus Drusus of Praeneste?"
"It is an honour to acknowledge friendship with such an excellentyoung man," said Curio, bowing.
"I am glad to hear so. I understand that he has already suffered noslight calamity for adhering to your party."
"_Vah!_" and the tribune shrugged his shoulders. "Doubtless he has hada disagreeable time with the consul-elect, but from all that I canhear, the girl he lost was hardly one to make his life a happy one.It's notorious the way she has displayed her passion for young LuciusAhenobarbus, and we all know what kind of a man _he_ is. But I maypresume to remark that your ladyship would hardly come here simply toremind me of this."
"No," replied Fabia, directly, "I have come here to appeal to you todo something for me which Marcellus the consul was too drunk to try toaccomplish if he would."
Fabia had struck the right note. Only a few days before AppiusClaudius, the censor, had tried to strike Curio's name from the rollsof the Senate. Piso, the other censor, had resisted. There had been anangry debate in the Senate, and Marcellus had inveighed against theCaesarian tribune, and had joined in a furious war of words. The Senatehad voted to allow Curio to keep his seat; and the anti-Caesarians hadparaded in mourning as if the vote were a great calamity.
Curio's eyes lit up with an angry fire.
"Lump of filth! Who was he, to disoblige you!"
"You will understand," said Fabia, still quietly; and then briefly shetold of the conspiracy against the life of Drusus, so far as she hadgathered it.
"Where did you learn all this," queried Curio, "if I may venture toask?"
"From Agias, the slave of Cornelia, niece of Lentulus."
"But what is Drusus to her?" demanded the marvelling tribune.
"He is everything to her. She has been trying to win her way intoAhenobarbus's confidence, and learn all of the plot."
A sudden light seemed to break over the face of the politician. Heactually smiled with relieved pleasure, and cried, "_Papae!_ Wonderful!I may be the farthest of all the world from Diogenes the Cynic; but aman cannot go through life, unless he has his eyes shut, and not knowthat there are different kinds of women. I was sorry enough to have tofeel that a girl like Cornelia was becoming one of Clodia's coterie.After all, the world isn't so bad as we make it out to be, if it isCurio the profligate who says it."
"But Drusus, my nephew?" exclaimed Fabia. "He is in frightful danger.You know Dumnorix will have a great band of gladiators, and there isno force in Praeneste that can be counted on to restrain him."
"My dear lady," said Curio, laughing, "I am praising the happy Geniusthat brought you here. We Caesarians are taught by our leaders never todesert a friend in need; and Drusus has been a very good friend to us,especially by using all his influence, very successfully, for ourcause among the Praenestians and the people of those parts. When didyou say that Dumnorix would pass through the town?"
"Early to-morrow, possibly," replied the Vestal.
"_Phui!_ Dismiss all care. I'll find out at once how many gladiatorshe took with him to Anagnia. Some of his gang will be killed in thegames there, and more will be wounded and weak or disabled. I amtribune, and I imagine I ought not to be out of the city overnight,[110] but before daybreak to-morrow I will take Antonius andSallustius and Quintus Cassius; and perhaps I can get Balbus and ourother associates to go. We will arm a few slaves and freedmen; and itwill be strange indeed if we cannot scatter to the four windsDumnorix's gladiators, before they have accomplished any mischief."
[110] This was the law, that the tribunes might always be ready to render help (_auxilium_) to the distressed.
"The gods reward you!" said Fabia, simply. "I will go back to theTemple, and pray that my nephew be kept from harm; and you also, andyour friends who will defend him."
Curio stood in the atrium a long time after the Vestal had left.
"The gods reward you!" he repeated. "So _she_ believes in the gods,that there are gods, and that they care for us struggling men. Ah!Caius, Caius Curio; if the mob had murdered you that day you protectedCaesar after he spoke in the Senate in favour of the Catilinarians,where would you be to-day? Whence have you come? Whither do you go?What assurance have you that you can depend on anything, but your ownhand and keen wits? What is to become of you, if you are knocked onthe head in that adventure to-morrow? And yet that woman believesthere are gods! What educated man is there that does? Perhaps wewould, if we led the simple lives our fathers did, and that womanlives. Enough of this! I must be over letters to Caesar at Ravenna tillmidnight: and then at morn off to gallop till our horses arefoundered."
A Friend of Cæsar: A Tale of the Fall of the Roman Republic. Time, 50-47 B.C. Page 10