CHAPTER XIV.
The entertainment which Verus was giving on the eve of his birthdayseemed to be far from drawing to an end, even at the beginning of thethird hour of the morning. Besides the illustrious and learned Romanswho had accompanied the Emperor to Alexandria, the most famous anddistinguished Alexandrians had also been invited by the praetor. Thesplendid banquet had long been ended, but jar after jar of mixed winewas still being filled and emptied. Verus himself had been unanimouslychosen as the king and leader of the feast. Crowned with a rich garland,he reclined on a couch strewn with rose-leaves, an invention of hisown, and formed of four cushions piled one on another. A curtain oftransparent gauze screened him from flies and gnats, and a tightly-wovenmat of lilies and other flowers covered his feet and exhaled sweet odorsfor him and for the pretty singer who sat by his side.
Pretty boys dressed as little cupids watched every sign of the 'shamEros.'
How indolently he lay on the deep, soft cushions! And yet his eyes wereevery where, and though he had not failed to give due consideration tothe preparations for his feast, he devoted all the powers of his mind tothe present management of it. As at the entertainments which Hadrianwas accustomed to give in Rome, first of all short selections from newessays or poems were recited by their authors, then a gay comedy wasperformed; then Glycera, the most famous singer in the city, had sung adithyramb to her harp, in a voice as sweet as a bell, and Alexander, askilled performer on the trigonon, had executed a piece. Finally atroop of female dancers had rushed into the room and swayed and balancedthemselves to the music of the double-flute and tambourine.
Each fresh amusement had been more loudly applauded than the last. Withevery jar of wine a new torrent of merriment went up through the openingin the roof, by which the scent of the flowers and of the perfume burnton beautiful little altars found an exit into the open air. The wineoffered in libations to the gods already lay in broad pools upon thehard pavement of the hall, the music and singing were drowned in shoutsthe feast had become an orgy.
Verus was inciting the more quiet or slothful of his guests to a freerenjoyment and encouraging the noisiest in their extravagant recklessnessto still more unbridled license. At the same time he bowed to each onewho drank to his health, entertained the singer who sat by his side,flung a sparkling jest into one and another silent group, and proved tothe learned men who reclined on their couches near to his that wheneverit was possible he took an interest in their discussions. Alexandria,the focus of all the learning of the East and the West, had seen otherfestivals than this riotous banquet. Indeed, even here a vein of graveand wise discourse flavored the meal of the circle that belonged to theMuseum; but the senseless revelry of Rome had found its way into thehouses of the rich, and even the noblest achievements of the human mindhad been made, unawares, subservient to mere enjoyment. A man was aphilosopher only that he might be prompt to discuss and always ready totake his share in the talk; and at a banquet a well-told anecdotewas more heartily welcome than some profound idea that gave rise to areflection or provoked a subtle discussion.
What a noise, what a clatter was storming in the hall by the secondhour after midnight! How the lungs of the feasters were choked withoverpowering perfumes! What repulsive exhibitions met the eye! Howshamelessly was all decency trodden under foot! The poisonous breath ofunchecked license had blasted the noble moderation of the vapor of winewhich floated round this chaos of riotous topers slowly rose the paleimage of Satiety watching for victims on the morrow.
The circle of couches on which lay Florus, Favorinus and theirAlexandrian friends stood like an island in the midst of the surging seaof the orgy. Even here the cup had been bravely passed round, and Floruswas beginning to speak somewhat indistinctly, but conversation hadhitherto had the upper hand.
Two days before, the Emperor had visited the Museum and had carried onlearned discussions with the most prominent of the sages and professorsthere, in the presence of their assembled disciples. At last a formaldisputation had arisen, and the dialectic keenness and precision withwhich Hadrian, in the purest Attic Greek, had succeeded in drivinghis opponents into a corner had excited the greatest admiration. TheSovereign had quitted the famous institution with a promise to reopenthe contest at an early date. The philosophers, Pancrates and Dionysiusand Apollonius, who took no wine at all, were giving a detailed accountof the different phases of this remarkable disputation and praising theadmirable memory and the ready tongue of the great monarch.
"And you did not even see him at his best," exclaimed Favorinus, theGaul, the sophist and rhetorician. "He has received an unfavorableoracle and the stars seem to confirm the prophecy. This puts him outof tune. Between ourselves let me tell you I know a few who arehis superiors in dialectic, but in his happiest moments he isirresistible-irresistible. Since we made up our quarrel he is like abrother to me. I will defend him against all comers, for, as I say,Hadrian is my brother."
The Gaul had poured out this speech in a defiant tone and with flashingeyes. He grew pale in his cups, touchy, boastful and very talkative.
"No doubt you are right," replied Apollonius, "but it seemed to us thathe was bitter in discussion. His eyes are gloomy rather than gay."
"He is my brother," repeated Favorinus, "and as for his eyes, I haveseen them flash--by Hercules! like the radiant sun, or merry twinklingstars! And his mouth! I know him well! He is my brother, and I willwager that while he condescended--it is too comical--condescended todispute with you--with you, there was a sly smile at each corner of hismouth--so--look now--like this he smiled."
"I repeat, he seemed to us gloomy rather than gay," retorted Apollonius,with annoyance; and Pancrates added:
"If he does really know how to jest he certainly did not prove it tous."
"Not out of ill-will," laughed the Gaul, "you do not know him, but I--Iam his friend and may follow wherever--he goes. Now only wait and I willtell you a few stories about him. If I chose I could describe his wholesoul to you as if it lay there on the surface of the wine in my cup.Once in Rome he went to inspect the newly-decorated baths of Agrippa,and in the undressing-room he saw an old man, a veteran who had foughtwith him somewhere or other. My memory is greatly admired, but his is inno respect inferior. Scaurus was the old man's name--yes--yes, Scaurus.He did not observe Caesar at first, for after his bath his wounds wereburning and he was rubbing his back against the rough stone of a pillar.Hadrian however called to him: 'Why are you scratching yourself, myfriend?' and Scaurus, not at once recognizing Caesar's voice, answeredwithout turning round: 'Because I have no slave to do it for me.'You should have heard Caesar laugh! Liberal as he is sometimes--Isay sometimes--he gave Scaurus a handsome sum of money and two sturdyslaves. The story soon got abroad, and when Caesar, who--as youbelieve--cannot jest, a short time after again visited the bath, twoold soldiers at once placed themselves in his way, scrubbed their backsagainst the wall like Scaurus, and called out to him 'Great Caesar,we have no slaves.'--'Then scratch each other,' cried he, and left thesoldiers to rub themselves."
"Capital!" laughed Dionysius. "Now one more true story," interrupted theloquacious Gaul. "Once upon a time a man with white hair begged of him.The wretch was a low fellow, a parasite who wandered round from oneman's table to another, feeding himself out of other folks' wallets anddishes. Caesar knew his man and warned him off. Then the creature hadhis hair dyed that he might not be recognized, and tried his luck asecond time with the Emperor. But Hadrian has good eyes; he pointed tothe door, saying, with the gravest face: 'I have just lately refused togive your father anything.' And a hundred such jokes pass from mouth tomouth in Rome, and if you like I can give you a dozen of the best."
"Tell us, go on, out with your stories. They are all old friends!"stammered Florus. "But while Favorinus chatters we can drink."
The Gaul cast a contemptuous glance at the Roman, and answered promptly:
"My stories are too good for a drunken man."
Florus paused to think of an answer, but before he could
find one, thepraetor's body-slave rushed into the hall crying out: "The palace atLochias is on fire."
Verus kicked the mat of lilies off his feet on to the floor, tore downthe net that screened him in, and shouted to the breathless runner.
"My chariot-quick, my chariot! To our next merry meeting another eveningmy friends, with many thanks for the honor you have done me. I must beoff to Lochias."
Verus flew out of the hall, without throwing on his cloak and hot as hewas, into the cold night, and at the same time most of his guests hadstarted up to hurry into the open air, to see the fire and to hear thelatest news; but only very few went to the scene of the conflagrationto help the citizens to extinguish it, and many heavily intoxicateddrinkers remained lying on the couches.
As Favorinus and the Alexandrians raised themselves on their pillowsFlorus cried:
"No god shall make me stir from this place, not if the whole house isburnt down and Alexandria and Rome, and for aught I care every nestand nook on the face of the earth. It may all burn together. The RomanEmpire can never be greater or more splendid than under Caesar! It mayburn down like a heap of straw, it is all the same to me--I shall liehere and drink."
The turmoil and confusion on the scene of the interrupted feast seemedinextricable, while Verus hurried off to Sabina to inform her of whathad occurred. But Balbilla had been the first to discover the fire andquite at the beginning, for after sitting industriously at her studies,and before going to bed, she had looked out toward the sea. She hadinstantly run out, cried "Fire!" and was now seeking for a chamberlainto awake Sabina.
The whole of Lochias flared and shone in a purple and golden glow. Itformed the nucleus of a wide spreading radiance of tender red of whichthe extent and intensity alternately grew and diminished. Verus metthe poetess at the door that led from the garden into the Empress'apartments. He omitted on this occasion to offer his customary greeting,but hastily asked her:
"Has Sabina been told?"
"I think not yet."
"Then have her called. Greet her from me--I must go to Lochias"
"We will follow you."
"No, stay here; you will be in the way there."
"I do not take much room and I shall go. What a magnificent spectacle."
"Eternal gods! the flames are breaking out too below the palace, by theKing's harbor. Where can the chariots be?"
"Take me with you."
"No you must wake the Empress."
"And Lucilla?"
"You women must stay where you are."
"For my part I certainly will not. Caesar will be in no danger?"
"Hardly--the old stones cannot burn."
"Only look! how splendid! the sky is one crimson tent. I entreat you,Verus, let me go with you."
"No, no, pretty one. Men are wanted down there."
"How unkind you are."
"At last! here are the chariots! You women stay here; do you understandme?"
"I will not take any orders; I shall go to Lochias."
"To see Antinous in the flames! such a sight is not to be seen everyday, to be sure!" cried Verus, ironically, as he sprang into hischariot, and took the reins into his own hand.
Balbilla stamped with rage.
She went to Sabina's rooms fully resolved to go to the scene of thefire. The Empress would not let herself be seen by any one, not even byBalbilla, till she was completely dressed. A waiting-woman told Balbillathat Sabina would get up certainly, but that for the sake of her healthshe could not venture out in the night-air.
The poetess then sought Lucilla and begged her to accompany her toLochias; she was perfectly willing and ready, but when she heard thather husband had wished that the women should remain at the Caesareum shedeclared that she owed him obedience and tried to keep back her friend.But the perverse curly-haired girl was fully determined, preciselybecause Verus had forbidden her--and forbidden her with mocking words,to carry out her purpose. After a short altercation with Lucilla sheleft her, sought her companion Claudia, told her what she intendeddoing, dismissed that lady's remonstrance with a very positive command,gave orders herself to the house-steward to have horses put to a chariotand reached the imperilled palace an hour and a half after Verus.
An endless, many-headed crowd of people besieged the narrow end ofLochias on the landward side and the harbor wharves below, where somestores and shipyards were in flames. Boats innumerable were crowdedround the little peninsula. An attempt was being made, with muchshouting, and by the combined exertions of an immense number of men, toget the larger ships afloat which lay at anchor close to the quay of theKing's harbor and to place them in security. Every thing far and widewas lighted up as brightly as by day, but with a ruddier and morerestless light. The north-east breeze fanned the fire, aggravating thelabors of the men who were endeavoring to extinguish it and snatchingflakes of flame off every burning mass. Each blazing storehouse was agigantic torch throwing a broad glare into the darkness of the night.The white marble of the tallest beacon tower in the world, on the islandof Pharos, reflected a rosy hue, but its far gleaming light shone paleand colorless. The dark hulls of the larger ships and the flotilla ofboats in the background were afloat in a fiery sea, and the still waterunder the shore mirrored the illumination in which the whole of Lochiaswas wrapped.
Balbilla could not tire of admiring this varying scene, in whichthe most gorgeous hues vied with each other and the intensest lightcontrasted with the deepest shadows. And she had ample time to dwellon the marvellous picture before her eyes, for her chariot could onlyproceed slowly, and at a point where the street led up from the King'sharbor to the palace, lictors stood in her way and declared positivelythat any farther advance was out of the question. The horses, muchscared by the glare of the fire and the crowd that pressed round them,could hardly be controlled, first rearing and then kicking at the frontboard of the chariot. The charioteer declared he could no longer beanswerable. The people who had hurried to the rescue now began to abusethe women, who ought to have staid at home at the loom rather than comestopping the way for useful citizens.
"There is time enough to go out driving by daylight!" cried one man;and another: "If a spark falls in those curls another conflagration willbreak out."
The position of the ladies was becoming every instant more unendurableand Balbilla desired the charioteer to turn round; but in the swarmingmass of men that filled the street this was easier said than done. Oneof the horses broke the strap which fastened the yoke that rested on hiswithers to the pole, started aside and forced back the crowd which nowbegan to scold and scream loudly. Balbilla wanted to spring out of thechariot, but Claudia clung tightly to her and conjured her not to leaveher in the lurch in the midst of the danger. The spoilt patrician'sdaughter was not timid, but on this occasion she would have givenmuch not to have followed Verus. At first she thought, "A delightfuladventure! still, it will not be perfect till it is over." But presentlyher bold experiment lost every trace of charm, and repentance that shehad ever undertaken it filled her mind. She was far nearer weeping thanlaughing already, when a man's deep voice said behind her, in tones ofcommanding decision:
"Make way there for the pumps; push aside whatever stops the way."
These terrible words reduced Claudia to sinking on to her knees, butBalbilla's quelled courage found fresh wings as she heard them, forshe had recognized the voice of Pontius. Now he was close behind thechariot, high on a horse. He then was the man on horseback whom she hadseen dashing from the sea-shore up to the higher storehouses that wereburning, down to the lake, and hither and thither.
She turned full upon him and called him by his name. He recognized her,tried to pull up his horse as it was dashing forward, and smilinglyshook his head at her, as much as to say: "She is a giddy creature anddeserves a good scolding; but who could be angry with her?" And thenhe gave his orders to his subordinates just as if she had been a merechattel, a bale of goods or something of the kind, and not an heiress ofdistinction.
"Take out the horses,"
he cried to the municipal guards; "we can usethem for carrying water."--"Help the ladies out of the chariot."--"Takethem between you Nonnus and Lucanus."--"Now, stow the chariot in thereamong the bushes."--"Make way there in front, make way for our pumps."And each of these orders was obeyed as promptly as if it was the word ofcommand given by a general to his well-drilled soldiers.
After the pumps had been fairly started Pontius rode close up toBalbilla and said:
"Caesar is safe and sound. You no doubt wished to see the progress ofthe fire from a spot near it, and in fact the colors down there aremagnificent. I have not time to escort you back to the Caesareum; butfollow me. You will be safe in the harbor-guard's stone house, and fromthe roof you can command a view of Lochias and the whole peninsula. Youwill have a rare feast for the eye, noble Balbilla; but I beg you notto forget at the same time how many days of honest labor, what richpossessions, how many treasures earned by bitter hardship are beingdestroyed at this moment. What may delight you will cost bitter tearsto many others, and so let us both hope that this splendid spectacle maynow have reached its climax, and soon may come to an end."
"I hope so--I hope it with all my heart!" cried the girl.
"I was sure you would. As soon as possible I will come to lookafter you. You Nonnus and Lucanus, conduct these noble ladies to theharbor-guard's house.
"Tell him they are intimate friends of the Empress. Only keep the pumpsgoing! Till we meet again Balbilla!" and with these words the architectgave his horse the bridle and made his way through the crowd.
A quarter of an hour later Balbilla was standing on the roof of thelittle stone guard-house. Claudia was utterly exhausted and incapable ofspeech. She sat in the dark little parlor below on a rough-hewn woodenbench. But the young Roman now gazed at the fire with different eyesthan before. Pontius had made her feel a foe to the flames which only ashort time before had filled her with delight as they soared up to thesky, wild and fierce. They still flared up violently, as though theyhad to climb above the roof; but soon they seemed to be quelled andexhausted, to find it more and more difficult to rise above the blacksmoke which welled up from the burning mass. Balbilla had looked outfor the architect and had soon discovered him, for the man on horsebacktowered above the crowd. He halted now by one and now by another burningstorehouse. Once she lost sight of him for a whole hour, for he hadgone to Lochias. Then again he reappeared, and wherever he stayed for awhile, the raging element abated its fury.
Without her having perceived it, the wind had changed and the air hadbecome still and much warmer. This circumstance favored the efforts ofthe citizens trying to extinguish the fire, but Balbilla ascribed itto the foresight of her clever friend when the flames subsided in souseplaces and in others were altogether extinguished. Once she saw that hehad a building completely torn down which divided a burning granaryfrom some other storehouses that had been spared, and she understoodthe object of this order; it cut off the progress of the flames. Anothertime she saw him high on the top of a rise in the ground. Close beforehim in a sheet of flame was a magazine in which were kept tow and casksof resin and pitch. He turned his face full towards it and gave hisorders, now on this side, now on that. His figure and that of his horse,which reared uneasily beneath him, were flooded in a crimson glow--asplendid picture! She trembled for him, she gazed in admiration at thiscalm, resolute, energetic man, and when a blazing beam fell close infront of him and after his frightened horse had danced round andround with him, he forced it to submit to his guidance, the praetor'sinsinuation recurred to her mind, that she clung to her determinationto go to Lochias because she hoped to enjoy the spectacle of Antinous inthe flames. Here, before her, was a nobler display, and yet her livelyimagination which often, sometimes indeed against her will, gave shapeto her formless thoughts--called up the image of the beautiful youthsurrounded by the glowing glory which still painted the horizon.
Hour after hour slipped by; the efforts of the thousands who endeavoredto extinguish the blaze were crowned by increasing success; one burningmass after another was quenched, if not extinguished, and insteadof flames smoke, mingled with sparks, rose from Lochias blacker andblacker-and still Pontius came not to look after her. She could not seeany stars for the sky was overcast with clouds, but the beginning of anew day could not be far distant. She was shivering with cold, and herfriend's long absence began to annoy her. When, presently, it began torain in large drops, she went down the ladder that led from the roofand sat down by the fire in the little room where her companion had gonefast asleep.
She had been sitting quite half an hour and gazing dreamily into thewarming glow, when she heard the sound of hoofs and Pontius appeared.His face was begrimed, and his voice hoarse with shouting commands forhours. As soon as she saw him Balbilla forgot her vexation, greeted himwarmly, and told him how she had watched his every movement; but theeager girl, so readily fired to enthusiasm, could only with the greatestdifficulty bring out a few words to express the admiration that his modeof proceeding had so deeply excited in her mind.
She heard him say that his mouth was quite parched and his throat waslonging for a draught of some drink, and she--who usually had every pinshe needed handed to her by a slave, and on whom fate had bestowed noliving creature whom she could find a pleasure in serving--she, with herown hand dipped a cup of water out of the large clay jar that stood ina corner of the room and offered it to him with a request that he woulddrink it. He eagerly swallowed the refreshing fluid, and when the littlecup was empty Balbilla took it from his hand, refilled it, and gave ithim again.
Claudia, who woke up when the architect came in, looked on at herfoster-child's unheard-of proceedings with astonishment, shaking herhead. When Pontius had drained the third cupful that Balbilla fetchedfor him he exclaimed, drawing a deep breath:
"That was a drink--I never tasted a better in the whole course of mylife."
"Muddy water out of a nasty earthen pitcher!" answered the girl.
"And it tasted better than wine from Byblos out of a golden goblet."
"You had honestly earned the refreshment, and thirst gives flavor to thehumblest liquor."
"You forget the hand that gave it me," replied the architect warmly.
Balbilla colored and looked at the floor in confusion, but presentlyraised her face and said, as gayly and carelessly as ever:
"So that you have been deliciously refreshed; and now that is done youwill go home and the poor thirsty soul will once more become the greatarchitect. But before that happens, pray inform us what god it was thatbrought you hither from Pelusium in the very nick of time when the firebroke out, and how matters look now in the palace at Lochias?"
"My time is short," replied Pontius, and he then rapidly told herthat, after he had finished his work at Pelusium, he had returned toAlexandria with the imperial post. As he got out of the chariot atthe post-house he observed the reflection of fire over the sea andwas immediately after told by a slave that it was the palace that wasburning. There were horses in plenty at the post-house; he had chosen astrong one and had got to the spot before the crowd had collected. Howthe fire had originated, so far remained undiscovered. "Caesar," hesaid, "was in the act of observing the heavens when a flame broke outin a store-shed close to the tower. Antinous was the first to detectit, cried 'Fire,' and warned his master. I found Hadrian in the greatestagitation; he charged me to superintend the work of rescuing all thatcould be saved. At Lochias. Verus helped me greatly and indeed with somuch boldness and judgment that I owe very much to him. Caesar himselfkept his favorite within the palace, for the poor fellow burned both hishands."
"Oh!" cried Balbilla with eager regret. "How did that happen?"
"When Hadrian and Antinous first came down from the tower they broughtwith them as many of the instruments and manuscripts as they couldcarry. When they were at the bottom Caesar observed that a tablet withimportant calculations had been left lying up above and expressed hisregret. Meanwhile the fire had already caught the slightly-built turretand it
seemed impossible to get into it again. But the dreamy Bithyniancan wake out of his slumbers it would seem, and while Caesar wasanxiously watching the burning bundles of flax which the wind keptblowing across to the harbor the rash boy rushed into the burningbuilding, flung the tablet down from the top of the tower and thenhurried down the stairs. His bold action would indeed have cost the poorfellow his life if the slave Mastor; who meanwhile had hurried to thespot, had not dragged him down the stone stair of the old tower onwhich the new one stood and carried him into the open air. He was halfsuffocated at the top of them and had dropped down senseless."
"But he is alive, the splendid boy, the image of the gods! and he is outof danger?" cried Balbilla, with much anxiety.
"He is quite well; only his hands, as I said, are somewhat burnt, andhis hair is singed, but that will grow again."
"His soft, lovely curls!" cried Balbilla. "Let us go home, Claudia. Thegardener shall cut a magnificent bunch of roses, and we will send it toAntinous to please him."
"Flowers to a man who does not care about them?" asked Pontius, gravely.
"With what else can women reward men's virtues or do honor to theirbeauty?" asked Balbilla.
"Our own conscience is the reward of our honest actions, or the laurelwreath from the hand of some famous man."
"And beauty?"
"That of women claims and wins admiration, love too perhaps andflowers-that of men may rejoice the eye, but to do it Honor is a taskgranted to no mortal woman."
"To whom, then, if I may ask the question?"
"To Art, which makes it immortal."
"But the roses may bring some comfort and pleasure to the sufferingyouth."
"Then send them-but to the sick boy, and not to the handsome man,"retorted Pontius.
Balbilla was silent, and she and her companion followed the architectto the harbor. There he parted from them, putting them into a boat whichtook them back to the Caesareum through one of the arch-gates under theHeptastadium.
As they were rowed along the younger Roman lady said to the elder:
"Pontius has quite spoilt my fun about the roses. The sick boy is thehandsome Antinous all the same, and if anybody could think--well,I shall do just as I please; still it will be best not to cut thenosegay."