Neæra: A Tale of Ancient Rome, Page 3

  CHAPTER III.

  From the centre of his atrium Afer watched his well-furnished clientretreat down the passage or lobby which led to the street, and marked,with a sour smile, the hasty stride, or almost leap, with which hevanished out of the sunlight which filled the porch. He stood a while withlips compressed, as, with a heart aching with wrath and mortification, hepondered on what had passed, on the sum of money he was lacking, and thehateful manner of its extortion. Then he turned and bade his slavesprepare to accompany him to the bath, which was an indispensable dailyluxury to a Roman, and usually indulged in previous to the dinner hour.

  Though not what Rome would call a wealthy man, T. Domitius Afer was ofsufficient means, and from his connection with Fabricius, we may gather,of sufficient right of birth, to rank him among the equestrian order. Hishouse, though small, was incontestably ruled by a master possessing thesomewhat rare quality of exquisite taste. Harmony and symmetry reignedover all its appointments, ordered by the still more rare magic of thehand, which rounds off the formal chilliness of perfect chastity andregularity, by an artful and timely touch of graceful negligence.

  There was no painting, statue, nor carved vase, nor couch, which mightnot, from its beauty and delicacy of design and finish, have had a placeamid the household magnificence of Caesar. The combination of facultieswhich we call taste can perform wonders of delight with the meanestappliances. It requires inexhaustible resources, together with barbaricignorance and coarseness, to shock the senses.

  Afer remained some minutes pacing up and down the atrium of his house indeep thought. Then rousing himself he beheld his slaves awaiting hisdeparture, with towels, unguents, and other necessaries. Without furtherdelay, therefore, he left the house and proceeded to some private baths inthe neighbourhood, where he enjoyed the company of some acquaintances, aswell as the physical refreshment of what moderns call a Turkish bath. Whenhe had leisurely gone through this delightful process; when he had finallybeen scraped with the strigil, rubbed dry and anointed from head to footwith a perfumed unguent, his youthful Greek attendant robed him with mostelaborate care to suit his exacting taste, and he left the baths to stepinto a kind of sedan chair, which awaited him at the doors. He was bornethus, the short distance which intervened, to the house of one Apicius, onthe Palatine, the most fashionable quarter in Rome, and finally to becomealmost the exclusive property of the emperors.

  He alighted in a courtyard, whereon opened the magnificent entrance of avery large and imposing mansion. He went in. The lofty interior gleamedwith rich marbles and gilding, and the air was laden with the scent of theperfumed fountain which twinkled and sparkled in the shaft of light,descending from the blue sunny sky through the square opening in thecentre of the roof. Beyond was the vista of the entire length of thehouse, through its columns and peristyle to a portico and ornamentalgarden beyond. The sumptuous magnificence which met the eye at every turn,the priceless statuary, the frescoes on every wall, the rare, polished,carved wood and stone, the ivory, gilding, and tapestries, betokened thelavish extravagance of vast wealth. Crossing the spotless floor of marble,Afer was ushered into a reception room of the same rich character, wherelounged or stood some half dozen guests engaged in conversation. Ourknight's attire, though of irreproachable taste and fashion, was modestcompared with the superlative richness displayed by some of those he nowrubbed against.

  Charinus was a dandy of the first water, whose glorious garments,oppressive perfumes, smooth, well-tended, effeminately handsome face andlanguid hauteur, at once betrayed his disposition and ambition. Flaccuswas a dandy, whose still youthful and ambitious mind animated a physicalorganisation long since bereft of vigour and beauty. Art did its best todisguise the ruthless blight of time, and age put a good face on itsimpotence, whilst it was being racked with follies and excesses whichbelonged to its grandchildren. So the withered old trunk stuck itself overwith green boughs, seeking to hide its sapless rottenness, but succeedingonly in rousing the laughter of men.

  In the puffy face, and uncertain wavering eyes of Pansa, together with hisnervous, trembling fingers, could be seen the demon of drunkenness; whilsthis seat apart, and his sullen, dejected, downcast looks, marked anightmare depression of spirits, during a brief separation from the winecup.

  Torquatus, unlike Flaccus, retained no foolish vanity in his advancedyears, and his simple attire bore a strong contrast to the rest. Curiositymight be awakened as to the reason why he was included in the companypresent, for peevish, snappish acidity was plain as written symbols in hisprying, sharp, small eyes, in his hard, withered, wrinkled face, and thin,sourly down-drawn lips. To the host, in the middle of these, Aferproceeded to pay his respects. Unheedful, unanswering to the chatteraround his chair, the lord of the house sat absorbed in his reflections.He leant his head first on one hand and then on the other, shiftingcontinuously and restlessly, as if a prey to uneasy thoughts. His face waspale, and his brows slightly contracted. Ever and anon, when his attentionwas desired to hear something of interest, he gave a nod, or glimmeringsmile, rather weary and ghastly than otherwise. His dress was the envyeven of the dandies, his guests; for his 'synthesis,' or loose uppergarment, which all wore, as more convenient for table than the toga, wasmade of silk--a fabric, at that time, in Rome, of such extravagant cost, asto be forbidden by imperial edict only a few years before the date of thisstory. The appearance of Afer before him roused him from his reverie.

  'Welcome, my friend,' said he, extending his hand, and shaking himself, asif to clear away all thoughts that interfered with his duties as host;'welcome to my poor house!'

  'I trust you marked the poverty as you came through,' rasped the voice ofTorquatus, the sour, ever on the watch to vent a sneer.

  'I came hastily to greet Apicius, our generous host,' returned Afer, as heexchanged courtesies with the smiling guests, all of whom he knew.

  'And faster still to eat his dinner,' added the old man.

  'Ho! ho! Torquatus, I see you are in your best humour,' cried Apicius,joining in the laugh, with more vivacity and briskness in his appearance.

  'Who arrived first to his appointment, Apicius?' inquired Afer.

  'When my slave called me to the room, I found Torquatus here alone togreet me,' replied the host.

  'Then has Torquatus the best right to the best part of your dinner, noblehost, since his eagerness to eat it outstripped us all. Hungry Torquatus!'

  Loud laughter from all drowned the snarling reply of the old man, but hisscowling eyes spoke volumes.

  'Thou hast it fairly,' said Apicius, when the merriment ceased; 'but don'tbe ill-humoured, Torquatus--it so ill becomes thee.'

  The juvenile mirth of Flaccus shook his sides at this, and dislocated someof the enamel on his face; and ere the amusement had subsided, the heavypurple curtain of the doorway was drawn aside to admit another comer, aman in the prime of his age, of tall commanding presence and handsomecountenance. He bestowed one rapid glance upon the occupants of the room,and ere their eyes, in turn, were drawn towards him, his lips werewreathed in a bland smile.

  'The Prefect Sejanus!' announced the slave at the door.

  As the name of the most powerful man in Rome fell on the ears of thecompany, it banished the laughter from their lips. Following the exampleof their host, they pressed around the new arrival, eager to salute him.Flaccus, the elderly dandy, who was a small man, tried to strain himself,like the frog in the fable, into an individual of imposing appearance.Torquatus posed himself into a caricature of a philosopher of elevated anddignified severity. Even the nerveless Pansa elevated his tremulous eyes,and rose from his chair. But when the first greetings were over, theconversation soon fell back once more into a current of liveliness andjest, under the influence of the imperial minister's good humour andindiscriminate affability.

  'Come, friends, it is time to get to table,' said Apicius; 'and for thelaggards who are yet absent, let them abide by what their unpunctualitymay bring them. Ha! here comes one. Caius, I can
not enter my dinner as anequal attraction to love; but yet, for once----'

  'What is the finest feast to a man in love! Heed him not, Martialis,' saidSejanus, grasping the hand of the newcomer. The latter, a young man ofabout thirty, smiled in response to a shower of badinage which followedthis initiative, until a slave entered and announced the feast inreadiness to be served.

  'Come, then!' cried the host; 'we lack one, but he is ever behind--'tispart of his religion. Let him take the empty place when he thinks fit.' Sosaying, he took Sejanus, as his most distinguished guest, by the hand,and, followed by the others, led the way to the dining apartment, where atable, blazing with an equipage of precious metal, awaited them.

  It is no purpose of these pages to enter into a detailed description ofthe extravagance, the innumerable and curious dishes, of a Roman banquetof the first order. Antiquaries have already done so in accounts which areeasily to be met with. The recital of the ingenuity, invention, and wealthlavished on a meal is extraordinary to modern measurement of luxury andextravagance. Fish, fowl, and beast were brought from the ends of theearth, in order that jaded appetites might nibble at them, or at someparticular part of them, dressed by a _chef_ of the highest art; and, inthe present instance, nothing was likely to be lacking from the feast ofone who won historic fame as a gourmand.

  Nor was the entertainment deemed sufficient of itself, but it must beserved in an apartment of splendour equal to the occasion. That of Apiciusdid not aspire to the novelty and outlay brought to bear on the saloon ofNero's golden house of a few years later, which was constructed like atheatre, with scenes which changed at every course. But, for a privateindividual, of a period just launching fairly into degraded luxury, hisdining-room was, perhaps, the most magnificent in the city.

  Along with the cunning of workers in ivory and precious metals, the handof the painter and sculptor had adorned it with the best children of theirgenius. In the centre of the apartment was placed the square dinner-table,which had the repute of costing the owner a fortune in itself. It was madefrom the roots of the citron tree, whereby the perfection of beautifulmarkings was obtained. It was highly polished, and the massive legs whichsupported it were of ivory and gold, elaborately carved at the extremitiesinto the semblances of lions' feet. On three sides of the table wereranged three couches of the same costly workmanship. They were spread withdeeply-fringed cloth of gold and cushions to match. The latter were toassist the diners in their attitude, for the Roman reclined at full lengthat his meals; and, while he reached for his food with his right hand tothe table, on a lower level than the couch, his left elbow and hand, aidedby the cushions, supported his head and upper part of his body in aconvenient lounging posture.

  The knotty face of Torquatus involuntarily twisted into a grimace ofdelight as he and his companions stretched themselves in their placesaround the glittering table. The failing eyes of Pansa emitted a feebleflash as they fell on the old jars of Falernian wine of the Opimian brand,the most celebrated vintage of all, and perfectly priceless.

  When all the diners were placed according to the marshalling of the slavewho acted as master of ceremonies, the slippers of each guest were drawnoff by their own domestics, who attended them to table. A company ofmusicians struck up a slow measured strain, and the professional carver ofthe establishment forthwith commenced to show his dexterity in dividingthe dressed viands to the beat of the music. Then the diners spread theirnapkins of fine linen edged with gold fringe, and directing their servantsto set before them whatever delicacy they fancied, they forthwith gavetheir utmost energy and attention to the business of the evening with azest as critical as keen.

  Torquatus gobbled and ravened like a beast of prey. The hard, protuberantmuscles of his face heaved and fell, and worked, incessantly, under theskin, which soon began to shine and glisten with perspiration. Charinus,the exquisite, nibbled at the most curious and highly-seasoned delicacies,with the pampered appetite of a gourmand. The first deep draught of oldFalernian restored Pansa and restrung his drooping nerves. His eyesbrightened, his face lightened, and, with a smack of his lips, he reachedbriskly forward to the golden platter, which his slave had just placedbefore him. It was the custom of his countrymen to temper their wine withwater; but, beyond cooling it with the snows of the Apennines, Pansaapproved of no such folly, so that his slave troubled the water pitcher nomore than to give an appearance of decency. As cup rapidly succeeded cuphis vivacity returned and his tongue became witty. It was a marvellousrestoration. The guest who in the greatest measure followed his example,though still at a considerable distance, was Caius Martialis, who occupiedthe place next and above his host, on the left hand, or third couch.Dissipation had placed its marks on the noble features of this young man,and he appeared to drink and talk with an increasing recklessness, andeven desperation.

  Whilst in the middle of the first course the last guest entered the roomto make up the number of nine--three to each couch, the number of themuses. The new-comer was rather short in stature and thick-set, withsquat, dark features, as though descended from negro blood. As he cameinto the room he glanced round with a supercilious look. Scarcely bendingto his host, he bowed more markedly to Sejanus, whilst the remainder ofthe company he seemed to ignore utterly. The seat reserved for him was thelowest on the couch next his host--the worst at the table. He took it witha scowl, amid the ill-concealed smiles of the others. Apicius himself,after bidding him welcome, sank back on his cushions with a sigh oftriumph and relief. Zoilus the millionaire, the son of a slave, the greatrival of himself in the extravagance of Rome, had on a splendid silkgarment, but it was only edged with gold, whereas his own was mostbeautifully figured and wrought with the same all over.

  The enormous acquired wealth of this individual, and his ostentatious useof it, made him a very noted leader of fashion; but, while peopleapplauded and truckled to him they scoffed aside at his innate vulgarityand arrogance. He began his dinner, at once, by asking haughtily and ill-humouredly for some unusual dish. It was at once supplied. Apicius atecalmly on, and the rest smiled and winked covertly. It was a trial ofstrength between the champions of luxury. The same thing happened morethan once throughout the banquet; but nothing, however rare, in the rangeof culinary art was lacking from the plate of Zoilus that his ingenuitycould suggest. The face of Apicius, though calm and stoical, covered aheart devoured by anxiety. A slight defection of his cook, a slightoversight in the study of their records, a trifling mistake ormisadventure in the combination of their ingredients, might have openedthe way for his rival's adverse, if courteous criticism. But everythingwas perfect. The household, from its officers downwards, had surpasseditself. The result was the perfection of culinary and decorative art,combined with the utmost variety and rarity. Praises flew from lip to lip.Some were fired into ecstasies of admiration and wonder; pleasure sat onevery countenance, except that of Zoilus. He had remained silent for fulla quarter of an hour. His ingenuity was exhausted, and his enemy's armourunpierced. It was the culminating point of the complete pre-eminence ofApicius. He gave a sign, and the butler, with much solemnity and ceremony,set a magnificent dish on the table with his own hands, amid a flourish ofthe musicians.

  The guests looked on curiously.

  Apicius announced the name of the delicacy which steamed on the gleaminggold. He bade them try it. Its style was entirely new and novel to Rome. Aportion was cut and handed to Sejanus; after him the others were served.Its delicious and novel flavour was proved by the enraptured expressionsof each feaster as he tasted the portion set before him. It had only onefault, as Pansa said, with a sigh--there was not enough of it. Zoilus wasleft to the last, and the only remaining piece on the dish was placedbefore him. Livid and trembling with passion he motioned it away,muttering something about his inability to digest it. Apicius, therefore,with mock regret, beckoned the slave to transfer it to himself.

  'Good!' said he, when he had finished it, speaking to his steward, whoseglance hung upon him. 'Tell Silo, Hippias, and Macer, that they havesur
passed themselves. Their master is well pleased with them--with you all.He will not forget.'

  It is to be regretted that history has preserved only the tradition ofthis remarkable production of Apicius' kitchen, the fame of whichsubsequently filled aristocratic circles. Further than relating that thefoundation of the dish was the carcase of a small unknown animal, capturedin the limits of the empire, and brought home by a recently arrived ship,all details are wanting.

  Gradually, after this interesting incident, the guests, languidly, fellmore at their ease on their cushions, with laden stomachs and appeasedappetites. Beyond nibbling furtively at sweet dainties and fruits, therewas only inclination left to sip at the precious wine, and to employ theirtongues and laugh at each other's wit. But from this stage Apicius himselfrelapsed once more into his former fit of silent, unconscious abstraction.The minutes gathered into hours, and chatter and jest flew uninterruptedlyaround. Only at times the host was roused by the jesting challenges of hisguests, rallying him on the subject of his absorbed reflections. Among thenumerous glorious entertainments of Apicius this, the guests admitted toeach other in many an aside, was the most perfect Rome had yet known. Andyet, instead of being blithe and jocund with success, the hospitableentertainer reclined with melancholy, fixed eyes--opening his lips only tosip his wine from time to time. This could not fail to have an effecteventually, for what ought to have been the inspiration of theirconviviality was cold, fireless, and mute. They struggled on for sometime, but, at length, their cheerfulness sank beneath the chillinginfluence of those fixed, sad, downcast eyes and heedless ears. A socialmeeting largely takes its tone from its leader, and when the conversationbecame slower and more fitful, Afer exchanged glances with Sejanus andFlaccus with Charinus. Meaning looks went round from each to each to theseemingly unconscious Apicius, and from Apicius back to each other. Zoilushad no love or good-feeling to detain him. More or less discomfited andsnubbed, he waited no longer, kicking against the pricks, but seized theopportunity and began to rise, briefly hinting that his absence wasnecessary.

  'Stay!' said Apicius, suddenly starting, as if from a dream, at hearingthese words spoken in his ear. 'Stay yet for a few moments, Zoilus. I--Iimplore your pardon, friends, for I see I have fallen a prey to myreflections and forgotten you. It was behaviour unworthy even of abarbarian--I pray you give me your indulgence!'

  'Nay, noble Apicius, every one is liable to be overridden by histhoughts,' said Sejanus.

  'True, and I will forthwith give you the clue to mine,' was the reply.

  'Ha! we will, therefore, begin again,' quoth Pansa, in thick tones,holding up his empty goblet for his slave to refill.

  They all laughed, and then bent their eyes on the face of Apicius withrenewed interest.

  'Nothing, dear friends, but the most sorrowful thoughts could have led meto exhibit such conduct toward you,' said their host. 'It has been mygreatest ambition--ever my pride and pleasure to see my friends happyaround my table.'

  'Dear Apicius, you have ever succeeded, and not the least this day,' saidMartialis gently.

  A murmur of approval ran round the couches.

  'You do me honour,' resumed Apicius; 'you have been good friends andcompanions hitherto, and I have done, humbly, my best to return your love.Be patient, I will not detain you long; and especially as you will neveragain recline round this table at my request. I am grieved to say it,'continued he, after allowing the expressions of startled surprise to pass,'but I am resolved to change my condition, and Rome will know me no more.'

  Ill-concealed joy lighted up the vulgar face of Zoilus, but the visages ofTorquatus, Flaccus, and Pansa were blank and thunderstruck at thisunlooked-for announcement.

  'Say not so, Apicius!' quoth Martialis, turning his prematurely worn, butnoble face toward his host, 'you rend our hearts.'

  Apicius, with a fond look, laid his hand gently on the speaker's shoulder,but did not speak.

  'This is rank treason that cannot pass,' said Sejanus jestingly. 'Romecannot spare thee, noble Apicius--thou shalt not even leave thy house--Ishall send a guard of my Pretorians, who shall block thee in.'

  A faint smile rested on the lips of Apicius at this conceit.

  'We shall see how that plan will act, Prefect,' said he. 'Send thyPretorians--a whole cohort--only you must be quick.'

  Torquatus sat dumb and forgot his jibes; the remainder listened for whatwas to follow.

  'It is true, my friends, I am about to quit the pleasures, the bustle, thevirtues and vices of our beloved city of the hills. I am eager for perfectserenity, far from the struggling crowd, and I go shortly to see it.'

  'Whither? We will seek you out--I, at least,' interrupted the voice ofMartialis next to him.

  'Thou shalt learn ere very long, my Caius. Which among you does not, atcertain times, if not constantly, wish for the tranquillity of the rustic,whose music is the whisper of the groves, the rippling of the stream, andthe notes of the birds? Eating simply, sleeping soundly, risingcheerfully. Contented with what the gods have given him--the summer sun,the pure air, the green pastures, sweet water and the vine-clad slope; aheart unvexed by ambitions, envyings, ingratitudes. When I see him wander,wonderingly, through the streets, I envy him his brown cheek, his clearskin, his cheerful simplicity, his vigorous body which cleaves the torrentof pallid citizens. He seems to breathe the odour of the quiet groves anddewy grass. I am sick at heart and weary, friends. I loathe the sight ofmy once loved city of the hills--the marble, the stone, the throngingpeople. Peace! Peace! That song of Horace haunts me. Hear it, although youknow it well--it will help you to divine my spirit in a little degree.' Hethen recited the beautiful song of Horace, the sixteenth of his secondbook, of which we offer the following translation, inadequate as it is:--

  'Whosoever tempest-tossed Upon the wide Aegean waters, Prays the gods for peace and rest, When darkling the moon is hid Amid the murky clouds, And guiding stars shine not To cheer the sailor's breast.

  'War-torn Thrace cries Peace! And Peace! the quivered Median bold: But, Grosphus, it is neither bought With purple, gems, nor gold. For neither riches Nor the lictor of a consul's nod, Can drive the troubles of a mind aloof, Nor flout the cares which flit About a gilded roof.

  'With him who lives with little Life goes well; Whose father's cup Shines bright upon a simple board: Whose slumbers light Are never harmed by fear, nor sudden fright, Which tells of hidden hoard.

  'Why strain ourselves to gain so much In this short life of ours? Why change our childhood's homes for lands That glow with other suns? What banished man whose fate is such He fain would shun himself?

  'Grim, cankering care climbs up the brazened ships, And swifter than the stag, Or eastern wind which sweeps The storms and rattling rain, It leaveth not the bands of horsemen Trooping o'er the plain.

  'Be happy for the day, And hate to think on what may follow! Tempering all bitterness With an easy laugh; For no such happiness there is As knows no sorrow.

  'Swift death bore off Achilles, and old age Hath shrunk Tithonus-- Time, mayhap, will give to me That which it denies to thee.'

  This foreign rendering can give only a faint idea of the effect whichApicius produced upon his hearers, by the beauty of his elocution, in hisnative tongue; for it was given in a voice of singular, patheticmelancholy. The hot burning tears dropped silently from the down-turnedface of Martialis. Then, for a brief moment, he raised his swimming eyestoward his friend. All that was purest and noblest in his nature struggledwith those welling drops, from beneath the load of a careless, misguidedlife, and beautified his weary face. The voices of the others were raisedin entreaties and arguments, and even Torquatus summoned a snarling joke.But Apicius was firm, and only shook his head.

  'Think not that I go heedlessly,' said he; 'we have passed many delightfulhours together. Although I shall henceforth be absent, I would not have mymemory altogether die amongst you. I have, therefore, to ask each of youto accept of a slight memorial
which may, at various times, as I hope,recall something of Apicius and his days.'

  'But you tell us not where you go,' murmured Martialis once more.

  'Patience, Caius--you shall know; it is within easy reach, on an easyroad.'

  Martialis made a gesture of pleasure, and Apicius gave a sign to hisbutler. On a sideboard stood a row of nine objects of nearly equal height,entirely draped and hidden by white gold-fringed napkins thrown over them.They were curious and unusual, and had, many times, already, excited theinward curiosity of the company.

  The slave advanced to these and carefully took the first. At a nod fromhis master he placed it before Martialis, on the table, with the snowywhite napkin still hiding whatever was beneath. The next was placed beforeSejanus. The others before Charinus, Flaccus, Torquatus, Pansa, Afer, andZoilus in rotation. One was left. Apicius pointed to his own place. Theslave put it down before him, and the table was ranged round with thesemysterious white-robed objects.

  'Friends,' said Apicius calmly, 'beneath those covers you will find thepresents which I give to you in token of our fellowship. I have striven tothe best of my ability to render them suitable and useful to their owners.Look at them and accept of them, I pray.'

  They all, with more or less eagerness, lifted the napkins from theirallotted gifts and sat gazing thereat, at Apicius, and each other withmingled expressions of ill-suppressed anger, mortification, anddisappointment. The napkin before Apicius was still untouched, and hereceived the rancorous glances which were shot towards him, with a calm,scornful expression.

  Before Sejanus was a small representation of a lictor's fasces, aminiature axe bound up in a bundle of twigs; but in addition to the axewas the model of an iron hook, such as was used to drag the bodies oftraitors and malefactors down the Gemonian steps into the Tiber.

  The cheek of the conspirator flushed, and from beneath his gathering browshe flashed a look as dangerous and dark as a thundercloud.

  'Be not offended, Prefect,' said Apicius; 'I act as a true friend whofears not the truth, and not as a parasite, who bestows nothing but whatmay prove pleasant to the ear.'

  His cold, mocking tone belied his words, and, ere he finished, Zoilus,with a face purple with rage and fury, had jumped from his seat and dashedthe article he had uncovered to the floor. It was a small figure of anegro, carved in ebony, having its nakedness barely draped in a ludicrousfashion with a little cloak of figured silk.

  'What!' cried Apicius jibingly; 'displeased with the image of yourgrandfather?'

  But Zoilus, speechless and shuddering with his boiling feelings, rushedfrom the room with his slaves. He was followed by a titter, which thebiting satire of the proceeding even wrung from the offended natures ofthe others.

  Torquatus sat scowling before a small stand, on which was placed a commonwooden platter having a copper coin in the centre. Pansa evinced hisdisgust of a similar stand bearing a diminutive cup of silver. The figureof a very ancient goat on its hind legs, having a garland of roses aroundits horns, caused Flaccus to fume and fret immoderately. Afer smiledscornfully upon a miniature gilded weather-vane; whilst a mirror, upheldby an Apollo, with an averted face, was regarded by Charinus withineffable disdain.

  Thus had Apicius amused his invention. A small bronze casket was deemedsufficient for Martialis. It was unpretentious in its outward appearance;but a fast-locked box ever provokes curiosity.

  'Lift it, Martialis!' snapped Torquatus derisively, 'and see whether it befilled with iron, or chaff, or what is lighter still--emptiness.'

  'There is the key, my Caius,' said Apicius, in answer, drawing the articlefrom his breast and handing it to his friend. 'Before you leave the houseyou shall use it--at present, sad necessity must deprive any one of thepleasure of seeing what the box contains. Dear friends,' he added, turninghis eyes upon them, 'I grieve that my trifling tributes should not, byappearances, have pleased you. Had I been less truthful and more liberal,probably you would have overwhelmed me with gratitude. At least I haveever found it thus. There is little more to add save farewell--Caius, giveme thy hand.'

  The hand was extended and grasped fervently by Apicius, who then liftedthe napkin before him. A richly chased gold cup, studded with jewels, wasexposed, gorgeous and glowing, to the expectant gaze of all. The eyes ofTorquatus, Flaccus, and Pansa kindled. Sejanus still sat motionless, witha cloud resting on his pale, immobile face. The sad brooding eyes ofMartialis showed no change.

  'That is my father's cup,' continued Apicius; 'Martialis, thou wiltpreserve it--it is too rich for my future needs of simplicity. I will drinkto the future welfare of you all. May the gods send you plentiful pasturesof liberal purses and groaning tables; and may ye die the death of noble,virtuous, uncovetous men. Listen, dear friends,' he said, with a bitterlyscornful emphasis of the adjective, 'I have lived to the age of fortyyears. With your help and the help of others I have spent of my patrimonysixty-four thousand sestertia.'(2)

  A movement of sensation passed round the couches at this calm statement ofsuch enormous extravagance.

  'In the process I have discovered how rarely the immortals make truefriends, and how idle it is to try and gain them with the glitter of goldalone. I have met with but one in my career who has followed me forlove--Caius, true friend, may the gods repay you, for Apicius cannot.' Heraised the goblet in his hand; it was partly filled with wine. Lookinground the company, while he poised the flashing cup, he said: 'Vultures, Ihave done. I have had my pleasure--I have spent my patrimony--what is left Igive to thee, Caius--that casket will vouch for it. I want it not; it isnot worth living on for. _Vale!_'

  He emptied the cup at a draught, threw it from him on to the table, andthen proceeded to sink back to his former position on the cushions. Ere hereached them, the smile on his lip became suddenly contorted into ahorrible grimace. The pallor of his face changed to a ghastly lividness.His body and limbs gave a spasmodic twist of agony, and he fell back abreathless corpse.

  The room was filled with consternation and confusion. Martialis, with ahorrible suspicion, sprang up and encircled his friend. Slaves sped awayfor a physician, and the remainder, together with the guests, gatheredround the dead Apicius with startled looks.

  'Come!' said Sejanus to Afer in a low voice, 'we can do nothing here butwaste time. Apicius has given the signal to depart. His only true friendwill attend to him--the slaves will probably see to the house--andthemselves.'

  'The fool,' muttered Afer, following the imperial minister out of theroom, 'he has lost his fortune and dies--I go to get one and live.'

  The company fast melted away. Charinus, with haughty, measured step, andsublimity of indifference on his unruffled face. Pansa, stupefied withwine and fright, leaning on the necks of his slaves, who, indeed, nearlycarried him. Torquatus, with a keen eye for any movables and anopportunity. So they departed to blow this strange business over the city.

  A group of frightened domestics remained huddled in one corner of theroom. Martialis waved them away, and he was left, amid the gold andglitter of the chamber of death, bending and sobbing alone, over the deadbody of his friend.