by Lew Wallace
CHAPTER XII
The palace across the river nearly opposite Simonides' place is saidto have been completed by the famous Epiphanes, and was all such ahabitation can be imagined; though he was a builder whose tasteran to the immense rather than the classical, now so called--anarchitectural imitator, in other words, of the Persians insteadof the Greeks.
The wall enclosing the whole island to the waters edge, and builtfor the double purpose of bulwark against the river and defenceagainst the mob, was said to have rendered the palace unfit forconstant occupancy, insomuch that the legates abandoned it andmoved to another residence erected for them on the western ridgeof Mount Sulpius, under the Temple of Jupiter. Persons were notwanting, however, who flatly denied the bill against the ancientabode. They said, with shrewdness at least, that the real objectof the removal of the legates was not a more healthful locality,but the assurance afforded them by the huge barracks, named,according to the prevalent style, citadel, situated just overthe way on the eastern ridge of the mount. And the opinion hadplausible showing. Among other pertinent things, it was remarkedthat the palace was kept in perpetual readiness for use; and whena consul, general of the army, king, or visiting potentate of anykind arrived at Antioch, quarters were at once assigned him onthe island.
As we have to do with but one apartment in the old pile, the residueof it is left to the reader's fancy; and as pleases him, he may gothrough its gardens, baths, halls, and labyrinth of rooms to thepavilions on the roof, all furnished as became a house of famein a city which was more nearly Milton's "gorgeous East" thanany other in the world.
At this age the apartment alluded to would be termed a saloon. It wasquite spacious, floored with polished marble slabs, and lightedin the day by skylights in which colored mica served as glass.The walls were broken by Atlantes, no two of which were alike,but all supporting a cornice wrought with arabesques exceedinglyintricate in form, and more elegant on account of superadditionsof color--blue, green, Tyrian purple, and gold. Around the roomran a continuous divan of Indian silks and wool of Cashmere.The furniture consisted of tables and stools of Egyptian patternsgrotesquely carved. We have left Simonides in his chair perfectinghis scheme in aid of the miraculous king, whose coming he has decidedis so close at hand. Esther is asleep; and now, having crossedthe river by the bridge, and made way through the lion-guardedgate and a number of Babylonian halls and courts, let us enterthe gilded saloon.
There are five chandeliers hanging by sliding bronze chains fromthe ceiling--one in each corner, and in the centre one--enormouspyramids of lighted lamps, illuminating even the demoniac facesof the Atlantes and the complex tracery of the cornice. About thetables, seated or standing, or moving restlessly from one to another,there are probably a hundred persons, whom we must study at least fora moment.
They are all young, some of them little more than boys. That theyare Italians and mostly Romans is past doubt. They all speakLatin in purity, while each one appears in the in-door dressof the great capital on the Tiber; that is, in tunics short ofsleeve and skirt, a style of vesture well adapted to the climateof Antioch, and especially comfortable in the too close atmosphereof the saloon. On the divan here and there togas and lacernae liewhere they have been carelessly tossed, some of them significantlybordered with purple. On the divan also lie sleepers stretched atease; whether they were overcome by the heat and fatigue of thesultry day or by Bacchus we will not pause to inquire.
The hum of voices is loud and incessant. Sometimes there is anexplosion of laughter, sometimes a burst of rage or exultation;but over all prevails a sharp, prolonged rattle, at first somewhatconfusing to the non-familiar. If we approach the tables, however,the mystery solves itself. The company is at the favorite games,draughts and dice, singly or together, and the rattle is merelyof the tesserae, or ivory cubes, loudly shaken, and the movingof the hostes on the checkered boards.
Who are the company?
"Good Flavius," said a player, holding his piece in suspendedmovement, "thou seest yon lacerna; that one in front of us onthe divan. It is fresh from the shop, and hath a shoulder-buckleof gold broad as a palm."
"Well," said Flavius, intent upon his game, "I have seen suchbefore; wherefore thine may not be old, yet, by the girdle ofVenus, it is not new! What of it?"
"Nothing. Only I would give it to find a man who knows everything."
"Ha, ha! For something cheaper, I will find thee here several withpurple who will take thy offer. But play."
"There--check!"
"So, by all the Jupiters! Now, what sayest thou? Again?"
"Be it so."
"And the wager?"
"A sestertium."
Then each drew his tablets and stilus and made a memorandum; and,while they were resetting the pieces, Flavius returned to hisfriend's remark.
"A man who knows everything! Hercle! the oracles would die.What wouldst thou with such a monster?"
"Answer to one question, my Flavius; then, perpol! I would cuthis throat."
"And the question?"
"I would have him tell me the hour-- Hour, said I?--nay, theminute--Maxentius will arrive to-morrow."
"Good play, good play! I have you! And why the minute?"
"Hast thou ever stood uncovered in the Syrian sun on the quay atwhich he will land? The fires of the Vesta are not so hot; and,by the Stator of our father Romulus, I would die, if die I must,in Rome. Avernus is here; there, in the square before the Forum,I could stand, and, with my hand raised thus, touch the floor ofthe gods. Ha, by Venus, my Flavius, thou didst beguile me! I havelost. O Fortune!"
"Again?"
"I must have back my sestertium."
"Be it so."
And they played again and again; and when day, stealing throughthe skylights, began to dim the lamps, it found the two in thesame places at the same table, still at the game. Like most ofthe company, they were military attaches of the consul, awaiting hisarrival and amusing themselves meantime.
During this conversation a party entered the room, and, unnoticedat first, proceeded to the central table. The signs were that theyhad come from a revel just dismissed. Some of them kept theirfeet with difficulty. Around the leader's brow was a chapletwhich marked him master of the feast, if not the giver. The winehad made no impression upon him unless to heighten his beauty,which was of the most manly Roman style; he carried his headhigh raised; the blood flushed his lips and cheeks brightly;his eyes glittered; though the manner in which, shrouded in atoga spotless white and of ample folds, he walked was too nearlyimperial for one sober and not a Caesar. In going to the table,he made room for himself and his followers with little ceremonyand no apologies; and when at length he stopped, and looked overit and at the players, they all turned to him, with a shout likea cheer.
"Messala! Messala!" they cried.
Those in distant quarters, hearing the cry, re-echoed it where theywere. Instantly there were dissolution of groups, and breaking-upof games, and a general rush towards the centre.
Messala took the demonstration indifferently, and proceededpresently to show the ground of his popularity.
"A health to thee, Drusus, my friend," he said to the player nextat his right; "a health--and thy tablets a moment."
He raised the waxen boards, glanced at the memoranda of wagers,and tossed them down.
"Denarii, only denarii--coin of cartmen and butchers!" he said,with a scornful laugh. "By the drunken Semele, to what is Romecoming, when a Caesar sits o' nights waiting a turn of fortuneto bring him but a beggarly denarius!"
The scion of the Drusi reddened to his brows, but the bystandersbroke in upon his reply by surging closer around the table,and shouting, "The Messala! the Messala!"
"Men of the Tiber," Messala continued, wresting a box with the dicein it from a hand near-by, "who is he most favored of the gods?A Roman. Who is he lawgiver of the nations? A Roman. Who is he,by sword right, the universal master?"
The company were of the easily inspired, and the thought was oneto which they were b
orn; in a twinkling they snatched the answerfrom him.
"A Roman, a Roman!" they shouted.
"Yet--yet"--he lingered to catch their ears--"yet there is a betterthan the best of Rome."
He tossed his patrician head and paused, as if to sting them withhis sneer.
"Hear ye?" he asked. "There is a better than the best of Rome."
"Ay--Hercules!" cried one.
"Bacchus!" yelled a satirist.
"Jove--Jove!" thundered the crowd.
"No," Messala answered, "among men."
"Name him, name him!" they demanded.
"I will," he said, the next lull. "He who to the perfection ofRome hath added the perfection of the East; who to the arm ofconquest, which is Western, hath also the art needful to theenjoyment of dominion, which is Eastern."
"Perpol! His best is a Roman, after all," some one shouted;and there was a great laugh, and long clapping of hands--anadmission that Messala had the advantage.
"In the East" he continued, "we have no gods, only Wine, Women,and Fortune, and the greatest of them is Fortune; wherefore ourmotto, 'Who dareth what I dare?'--fit for the senate, fit forbattle, fittest for him who, seeking the best, challenges theworst."
His voice dropped into an easy, familiar tone, but without relaxingthe ascendancy he had gained.
"In the great chest up in the citadel I have five talents coincurrent in the markets, and here are the receipts for them."
From his tunic he drew a roll of paper, and, flinging it on thetable, continued, amidst breathless silence, every eye having himin view fixed on his, every ear listening:
"The sum lies there the measure of what I dare. Who of you daresso much! You are silent. Is it too great? I will strike off onetalent. What! still silent? Come, then, throw me once for thesethree talents--only three; for two; for one--one at least--onefor the honor of the river by which you were born--Rome Eastagainst Rome West!--Orontes the barbarous against Tiber thesacred!"
He rattled the dice overhead while waiting.
"The Orontes against the Tiber!" he repeated, with an increase ofscornful emphasis.
Not a man moved; then he flung the box upon the table and, laughing,took up the receipts.
"Ha, ha, ha! By the Olympian Jove, I know now ye have fortunes tomake or to mend; therefore are ye come to Antioch. Ho, Cecilius!"
"Here, Messala!" cried a man behind him; "here am I, perishing inthe mob, and begging a drachma to settle with the ragged ferryman.But, Pluto take me! these new ones have not so much as an obolusamong them."
The sally provoked a burst of laughter, under which the saloonrang and rang again. Messala alone kept his gravity.
"Go, thou," he said to Cecilius, "to the chamber whence we came,and bid the servants bring the amphorae here, and the cups andgoblets. If these our countrymen, looking for fortune, have notpurses, by the Syrian Bacchus, I will see if they are not betterblessed with stomachs! Haste thee!"
Then he turned to Drusus, with a laugh heard throughout the apartment.
"Ha, ha, my friend! Be thou not offended because I levelled theCaesar in thee down to the denarii. Thou seest I did but use thename to try these fine fledglings of our old Rome. Come, my Drusus,come!" He took up the box again and rattled the dice merrily. "Here,for what sum thou wilt, let us measure fortunes."
The manner was frank, cordial, winsome. Drusus melted in a moment.
"By the Nymphae, yes!" he said, laughing. "I will throw with thee,Messala--for a denarius."
A very boyish person was looking over the table watching the scene.Suddenly Messala turned to him.
"Who art thou?" he asked.
The lad drew back.
"Nay, by Castor! and his brother too! I meant not offence. It isa rule among men, in matters other than dice, to keep the recordclosest when the deal is least. I have need of a clerk. Wilt thouserve me?"
The young fellow drew his tablets ready to keep the score: the mannerwas irresistible.
"Hold, Messala, hold!" cried Drusus. "I know not if it be ominousto stay the poised dice with a question; but one occurs to me, and Imust ask it though Venus slap me with her girdle."
"Nay, my Drusus, Venus with her girdle off is Venus in love. To thyquestion--I will make the throw and hold it against mischance. Thus--"
He turned the box upon the table and held it firmly over the dice.
And Drusus asked, "Did you ever see one Quintus Arrius?"
"The duumvir?"
"No--his son?"
"I knew not he had a son."
"Well, it is nothing," Drusus added, indifferently; "only,my Messala, Pollux was not more like Castor than Arrius islike thee."
The remark had the effect of a signal: twenty voices took it up.
"True, true! His eyes--his face," they cried.
"What!" answered one, disgusted. "Messala is a Roman; Arrius isa Jew."
"Thou sayest right," a third exclaimed. "He is a Jew, or Momuslent his mother the wrong mask."
There was promise of a dispute; seeing which, Messala interposed."The wine is not come, my Drusus; and, as thou seest, I have thefreckled Pythias as they were dogs in leash. As to Arrius, I willaccept thy opinion of him, so thou tell me more about him."
"Well, be he Jew or Roman--and, by the great god Pan, I say it notin disrespect of thy feelings, my Messala!--this Arrius is handsomeand brave and shrewd. The emperor offered him favor and patronage,which he refused. He came up through mystery, and keepeth distanceas if he felt himself better or knew himself worse than the rest ofus. In the palaestrae he was unmatched; he played with the blue-eyedgiants from the Rhine and the hornless bulls of Sarmatia as they werewillow wisps. The duumvir left him vastly rich. He has a passionfor arms, and thinks of nothing but war. Maxentius admitted himinto his family, and he was to have taken ship with us, but welost him at Ravenna. Nevertheless he arrived safely. We heardof him this morning. Perpol! Instead of coming to the palaceor going to the citadel, he dropped his baggage at the khan,and hath disappeared again."
At the beginning of the speech Messala listened with politeindifference; as it proceeded, he became more attentive; at theconclusion, he took his hand from the dice-box, and called out,"Ho, my Caius! Dost thou hear?"
A youth at his elbow--his Myrtilus, or comrade, in the day'schariot practice--answered, much pleased with the attention,"Did I not, my Messala, I were not thy friend."
"Dost thou remember the man who gave thee the fall to-day?"
"By the love-locks of Bacchus, have I not a bruised shoulder tohelp me keep it in mind?" and he seconded the words with a shrugthat submerged his ears.
"Well, be thou grateful to the Fates--I have found thy enemy.Listen."
Thereupon Messala turned to Drusus.
"Tell us more of him--perpol!--of him who is both Jew and Roman--byPhoebus, a combination to make a Centaur lovely! What garmentsdoth he affect, my Drusus?"
"Those of the Jews."
"Hearest thou, Caius?" said Messala. "The fellow is young--one;he hath the visage of a Roman--two; he loveth best the garb of aJew--three; and in the palaestrae fame and fortune come of arms tothrow a horse or tilt a chariot, as the necessity may order--four.And, Drusus, help thou my friend again. Doubtless this Arrius hathtricks of language; otherwise he could not so confound himself,to-day a Jew, to-morrow a Roman; but of the rich tongue ofAthene--discourseth he in that as well?"
"With such purity, Messala, he might have been a contestant inthe Isthmia."
"Art thou listening, Caius?" said Messala. "The fellow is qualifiedto salute a woman--for that matter Aristomache herself--in theGreek; and as I keep the count, that is five. What sayest thou?"
"Thou hast found him, my Messala," Caius answered; "or I am notmyself."
"Thy pardon, Drusus--and pardon of all--for speaking in riddlesthus," Messala said, in his winsome way. "By all the decent gods,I would not strain thy courtesy to the point of breaking, but nowhelp thou me. See!"--he put his hand on the dice-box again,laughing--"See how close I hold the Pythias and thei
r secret!Thou didst speak, I think, of mystery in connection with thecoming of the son of Arrius. Tell me of that."
"'Tis nothing, Messala, nothing," Drusus replied; "a child's story.When Arrius, the father, sailed in pursuit of the pirates, he waswithout wife or family; he returned with a boy--him of whom wespeak--and next day adopted him."
"Adopted him?" Messala repeated. "By the gods, Drusus, thou dost,indeed, interest me! Where did the duumvir find the boy? And whowas he?"
"Who shall answer thee that, Messala? who but the young Arriushimself? Perpol! in the fight the duumvir--then but a tribune--losthis galley. A returning vessel found him and one other--all of thecrew who survived--afloat upon the same plank. I give you now thestory of the rescuers, which hath this excellence at least--ithath never been contradicted. They say, the duumvir's companionon the plank was a Jew--"
"A Jew!" echoed Messala.
"And a slave."
"How Drusus? A slave?"
"When the two were lifted to the deck, the duumvir was in histribune's armor, and the other in the vesture of a rower."
Messala rose from leaning against the table.
"A galley"--he checked the debasing word, and looked around, foronce in his life at loss. Just then a procession of slaves filedinto the room, some with great jars of wine, others with basketsof fruits and confections, others again with cups and flagons,mostly silver. There was inspiration in the sight. Instantly Messalaclimbed upon a stool.
"Men of the Tiber," he said, in a clear voice, "let us turn thiswaiting for our chief into a feast of Bacchus. Whom choose ye formaster?"
Drusus arose.
"Who shall be master but the giver of the feast?" he said. "Answer,Romans."
They gave their reply in a shout.
Messala took the chaplet from his head, gave it to Drusus, whoclimbed upon the table, and, in the view of all, solemnly replacedit, making Messala master of the night.
"There came with me into the room," he said, "some friends justrisen from table. That our feast may have the approval of sacredcustom, bring hither that one of them most overcome by wine."
A din of voices answered, "Here he is, here he is!"
And from the floor where he had fallen, a youth was brought forward,so effeminately beautiful he might have passed for the drinking-godhimself--only the crown would have dropped from his head, and thethyrsus from his hand.
"Lift him upon the table," the master said.
It was found he could not sit.
"Help him, Drusus, as the fair Nyone may yet help thee."
Drusus took the inebriate in his arms.
Then addressing the limp figure, Messala said, amidst profoundsilence, "O Bacchus! greatest of the gods, be thou propitiousto-night. And for myself, and these thy votaries, I vow thischaplet"--and from his head he raised it reverently--"I vowthis chaplet to thy altar in the Grove of Daphne."
He bowed, replaced the crown upon his locks, then stooped anduncovered the dice, saying, with a laugh, "See, my Drusus, by theass of Silenus, the denarius is mine!"
There was a shout that set the floor to quaking, and the grimAtlantes to dancing, and the orgies began.