Chapter III
A FASHIONABLE PARTY AND A DINNER A LA MODE IN POMPEII.
MEANWHILE Sallust and Glaucus were slowly strolling towards the house ofDiomed. Despite the habits of his life, Sallust was not devoid of manyestimable qualities. He would have been an active friend, a usefulcitizen--in short, an excellent man, if he had not taken it into hishead to be a philosopher. Brought up in the schools in which Romanplagiarism worshipped the echo of Grecian wisdom, he had imbued himselfwith those doctrines by which the later Epicureans corrupted the simplemaxims of their great master. He gave himself altogether up topleasure, and imagined there was no sage like a boon companion. Still,however, he had a considerable degree of learning, wit, and good nature;and the hearty frankness of his very vices seemed like virtue itselfbeside the utter corruption of Clodius and the prostrate effeminacy ofLepidus; and therefore Glaucus liked him the best of his companions; andhe, in turn, appreciating the nobler qualities of the Athenian, lovedhim almost as much as a cold muraena, or a bowl of the best Falernian.
'This is a vulgar old fellow, this Diomed,' said Sallust: 'but he hassome good qualities--in his cellar!'
'And some charming ones--in his daughter.'
'True, Glaucus: but you are not much moved by them, methinks. I fancyClodius is desirous to be your successor.'
'He is welcome. At the banquet of Julia's beauty, no guest, be sure, isconsidered a musca.'
'You are severe: but she has, indeed, something of the Corinthian abouther--they will be well matched, after all! What good-natured fellows weare to associate with that gambling good-for-nought.'
'Pleasure unites strange varieties,' answered Glaucus. 'He amusesme...'
'And flatters--but then he pays himself well! He powders his praisewith gold-dust.'
'You often hint that he plays unfairly--think you so really?'
'My dear Glaucus, a Roman noble has his dignity to keep up--dignity isvery expensive--Clodius must cheat like a scoundrel, in order to livelike a gentleman.'
'Ha ha!--well, of late I have renounced the dice. Ah! Sallust, when Iam wedded to Ione, I trust I may yet redeem a youth of follies. We areboth born for better things than those in which we sympathize now--bornto render our worship in nobler temples than the stye of Epicurus.'
'Alas!' returned Sallust, in rather a melancholy tone, 'what do we knowmore than this--life is short--beyond the grave all is dark? There is nowisdom like that which says "enjoy".'
'By Bacchus! I doubt sometimes if we do enjoy the utmost of which lifeis capable.'
'I am a moderate man,' returned Sallust, 'and do not ask "the utmost".We are like malefactors, and intoxicate ourselves with wine and myrrh,as we stand on the brink of death; but, if we did not do so, the abysswould look very disagreeable. I own that I was inclined to be gloomyuntil I took so heartily to drinking--that is a new life, my Glaucus.'
'Yes! but it brings us next morning to a new death.'
'Why, the next morning is unpleasant, I own; but, then, if it were notso, one would never be inclined to read. I study betimes--because, bythe gods! I am generally unfit for anything else till noon.'
'Fie, Scythian!'
'Pshaw! the fate of Pentheus to him who denies Bacchus.'
'Well, Sallust, with all your faults, you are the best profligate I evermet: and verily, if I were in danger of life, you are the only man inall Italy who would stretch out a finger to save me.'
'Perhaps I should not, if it were in the middle of supper. But, intruth, we Italians are fearfully selfish.'
'So are all men who are not free,' said Glaucus, with a sigh. 'Freedomalone makes men sacrifice to each other.'
'Freedom, then, must be a very fatiguing thing to an Epicurean,'answered Sallust. 'But here we are at our host's.'
As Diomed's villa is one of the most considerable in point of size ofany yet discovered at Pompeii, and is, moreover, built much according tothe specific instructions for a suburban villa laid down by the Romanarchitect, it may not be uninteresting briefly to describe the plan ofthe apartments through which our visitors passed.
They entered, then, by the same small vestibule at which we have beforebeen presented to the aged Medon, and passed at once into a colonnade,technically termed the peristyle; for the main difference between thesuburban villa and the town mansion consisted in placing, in the first,the said colonnade in exactly the same place as that which in the townmansion was occupied by the atrium. In the centre of the peristyle wasan open court, which contained the impluvium.
From this peristyle descended a staircase to the offices; another narrowpassage on the opposite side communicated with a garden; various smallapartments surrounded the colonnade, appropriated probably to countryvisitors. Another door to the left on entering communicated with asmall triangular portico, which belonged to the baths; and behind wasthe wardrobe, in which were kept the vests of the holiday suits of theslaves, and, perhaps, of the master. Seventeen centuries afterwardswere found those relics of ancient finery calcined and crumbling: keptlonger, alas! than their thrifty lord foresaw.
Return we to the peristyle, and endeavor now to present to the reader acoup d'oeil of the whole suite of apartments, which immediatelystretched before the steps of the visitors.
Let him then first imagine the columns of the portico, hung withfestoons of flowers; the columns themselves in the lower part paintedred, and the walls around glowing with various frescoes; then, lookingbeyond a curtain, three parts drawn aside, the eye caught the tablinumor saloon (which was closed at will by glazed doors, now slid back intothe walls). On either side of this tablinum were small rooms, one ofwhich was a kind of cabinet of gems; and these apartments, as well asthe tablinum, communicated with a long gallery, which opened at eitherend upon terraces; and between the terraces, and communicating with thecentral part of the gallery, was a hall, in which the banquet was thatday prepared. All these apartments, though almost on a level with thestreet, were one story above the garden; and the terraces communicatingwith the gallery were continued into corridors, raised above the pillarswhich, to the right and left, skirted the garden below.
Beneath, and on a level with the garden, ran the apartments we havealready described as chiefly appropriated to Julia.
In the gallery, then, just mentioned, Diomed received his guests.
The merchant affected greatly the man of letters, and, therefore, healso affected a passion for everything Greek; he paid particularattention to Glaucus.
'You will see, my friend,' said he, with a wave of his hand, 'that I ama little classical here--a little Cecropian--eh? The hall in which weshall sup is borrowed from the Greeks. It is an OEcus Cyzicene. NobleSallust, they have not, I am told, this sort of apartment in Rome.'
'Oh!' replied Sallust, with a half smile; 'you Pompeians combine allthat is most eligible in Greece and in Rome; may you, Diomed, combinethe viands as well as the architecture!'
'You shall see--you shall see, my Sallust,' replied the merchant. 'Wehave a taste at Pompeii, and we have also money.'
'They are two excellent things,' replied Sallust. 'But, behold, thelady Julia!'
The main difference, as I have before remarked, in the manner of lifeobserved among the Athenians and Romans, was, that with the first, themodest women rarely or never took part in entertainments; with thelatter, they were the common ornaments of the banquet; but when theywere present at the feast, it usually terminated at an early hour.
Magnificently robed in white, interwoven with pearls and threads ofgold, the handsome Julia entered the apartment.
Scarcely had she received the salutation of the two guests, ere Pansaand his wife, Lepidus, Clodius, and the Roman senator, entered almostsimultaneously; then came the widow Fulvia; then the poet Fulvius, liketo the widow in name if in nothing else; the warrior from Herculaneum,accompanied by his umbra, next stalked in; afterwards, the less eminentof the guests. Ione yet tarried.
It was the mode among the courteous ancients to flatter whenever it
wasin their power: accordingly it was a sign of ill-breeding to seatthemselves immediately on entering the house of their host. Afterperforming the salutation, which was usually accomplished by the samecordial shake of the right hand which we ourselves retain, andsometimes, by the yet more familiar embrace, they spent several minutesin surveying the apartment, and admiring the bronzes, the pictures, orthe furniture, with which it was adorned--a mode very impolite accordingto our refined English notions, which place good breeding inindifference. We would not for the world express much admiration ofanother man's house, for fear it should be thought we had never seenanything so fine before!
'A beautiful statue this of Bacchus!' said the Roman senator.
'A mere trifle!' replied Diomed.
'What charming paintings!' said Fulvia.
'Mere trifles!' answered the owner.
'Exquisite candelabra!' cried the warrior.
'Exquisite!' echoed his umbra.
'Trifles! trifles!' reiterated the merchant.
Meanwhile, Glaucus found himself by one of the windows of the gallery,which communicated with the terraces, and the fair Julia by his side.
'Is it an Athenian virtue, Glaucus,' said the merchant's daughter, 'toshun those whom we once sought?'
'Fair Julia--no!'
'Yet methinks, it is one of the qualities of Glaucus.'
'Glaucus never shuns a friend!' replied the Greek, with some emphasis onthe last word.
'May Julia rank among the number of his friends?'
'It would be an honour to the emperor to find a friend in one solovely.'
'You evade my question,' returned the enamoured Julia. 'But tell me, isit true that you admire the Neapolitan Ione?'
'Does not beauty constrain our admiration?'
'Ah! subtle Greek, still do you fly the meaning of my words. But say,shall Julia be indeed your friend?'
'If she will so favor me, blessed be the gods! The day in which I amthus honored shall be ever marked in white.'
'Yet, even while you speak, your eye is resting--your color comes andgoes--you move away involuntarily--you are impatient to join Ione!'
For at that moment Ione had entered, and Glaucus had indeed betrayed theemotion noticed by the jealous beauty.
'Can admiration to one woman make me unworthy the friendship of another?Sanction not so, O Julia the libels of the poets on your sex!'
'Well, you are right--or I will learn to think so. Glaucus, yet onemoment! You are to wed Ione; is it not so?'
'If the Fates permit, such is my blessed hope.'
'Accept, then, from me, in token of our new friendship, a present foryour bride. Nay, it is the custom of friends, you know, always topresent to bride and bridegroom some such little marks of their esteemand favoring wishes.'
'Julia! I cannot refuse any token of friendship from one like you. Iwill accept the gift as an omen from Fortune herself.'
'Then, after the feast, when the guests retire, you will descend with meto my apartment, and receive it from my hands. Remember!' said Julia,as she joined the wife of Pansa, and left Glaucus to seek Ione.
The widow Fulvia and the spouse of the aedile were engaged in high andgrave discussion.
'O Fulvia! I assure you that the last account from Rome declares thatthe frizzling mode of dressing the hair is growing antiquated; they onlynow wear it built up in a tower, like Julia's, or arranged as ahelmet--the Galerian fashion, like mine, you see: it has a fine effect,I think. I assure you, Vespius (Vespius was the name of the Herculaneumhero) admires it greatly.'
'And nobody wears the hair like yon Neapolitan, in the Greek way.'
'What, parted in front, with the knot behind? Oh, no; how ridiculous itis! it reminds one of the statue of Diana! Yet this Ione is handsome,eh?'
'So the men say; but then she is rich: she is to marry the Athenian--Iwish her joy. He will not be long faithful, I suspect; those foreignersare very faithless.'
'Oh, Julia!' said Fulvia, as the merchant's daughter joined them; 'haveyou seen the tiger yet?'
'No!'
'Why, all the ladies have been to see him. He is so handsome!'
'I hope we shall find some criminal or other for him and the lion,'replied Julia. 'Your husband (turning to Pansa's wife) is not so activeas he should be in this matter.'
'Why, really, the laws are too mild,' replied the dame of the helmet.'There are so few offences to which the punishment of the arena can beawarded; and then, too, the gladiators are growing effeminate! Thestoutest bestiarii declare they are willing enough to fight a boar or abull; but as for a lion or a tiger, they think the game too much inearnest.'
'They are worthy of a mitre,' replied Julia, in disdain.
'Oh! have you seen the new house of Fulvius, the dear poet?' saidPansa's wife.
'No: is it handsome?'
'Very!--such good taste. But they say, my dear, that he has suchimproper pictures! He won't show them to the women: how ill-bred!'
'Those poets are always odd,' said the widow. 'But he is an interestingman; what pretty verses he writes! We improve very much in poetry: itis impossible to read the old stuff now.'
'I declare I am of your opinion, returned the lady of the helmet.'There is so much more force and energy in the modern school.'
The warrior sauntered up to the ladies.
'It reconciles me to peace,' said he, 'when I see such faces.'
'Oh! you heroes are ever flatterers,' returned Fulvia, hastening toappropriate the compliment specially to herself.
'By this chain, which I received from the emperor's own hand,' repliedthe warrior, playing with a short chain which hung round the neck like acollar, instead of descending to the breast, according to the fashion ofthe peaceful--'By this chain, you wrong me! I am a blunt man--a soldiershould be so.'
'How do you find the ladies of Pompeii generally?' said Julia.
'By Venus, most beautiful! They favor me a little, it is true, and thatinclines my eyes to double their charms.'
'We love a warrior,' said the wife of Pansa.
'I see it: by Hercules! it is even disagreeable to be too celebrated inthese cities. At Herculaneum they climb the roof of my atrium to catcha glimpse of me through the compluvium; the admiration of one's citizensis pleasant at first, but burthensome afterwards.'
'True, true, O Vespius!' cried the poet, joining the group: 'I find itso myself.'
'You!' said the stately warrior, scanning the small form of the poetwith ineffable disdain. 'In what legion have you served?'
'You may see my spoils, my exuviae, in the forum itself,' returned thepoet, with a significant glance at the women. 'I have been among thetent-companions, the contubernales, of the great Mantuan himself.'
'I know no general from Mantua, said the warrior, gravely. 'Whatcampaign have you served?'
'That of Helicon.'
'I never heard of it.'
'Nay, Vespius, he does but joke,' said Julia, laughing.
'Joke! By Mars, am I a man to be joked!'
'Yes; Mars himself was in love with the mother of jokes,' said the poet,a little alarmed. 'Know, then, O Vespius! that I am the poet Fulvius.It is I who make warriors immortal!'
'The gods forbid!' whispered Sallust to Julia. 'If Vespius were madeimmortal, what a specimen of tiresome braggadocio would be transmittedto posterity!'
The soldier looked puzzled; when, to the infinite relief of himself andhis companions, the signal for the feast was given.
As we have already witnessed at the house of Glaucus the ordinaryroutine of a Pompeian entertainment, the reader is spared any seconddetail of the courses, and the manner in which they were introduced.
Diomed, who was rather ceremonious, had appointed a nomenclator, orappointer of places to each guest.
The reader understands that the festive board was composed of threetables; one at the centre, and one at each wing. It was only at theouter side of these tables that the guests reclined; the inner space wasleft untenanted, for the greater
convenience of the waiters or ministri.The extreme corner of one of the wings was appropriated to Julia as thelady of the feast; that next her, to Diomed. At one corner of thecentre table was placed the aedile; at the opposite corner, the Romansenator--these were the posts of honour. The other guests werearranged, so that the young (gentleman or lady) should sit next eachother, and the more advanced in years be similarly matched. Anagreeable provision enough, but one which must often have offended thosewho wished to be thought still young.
The chair of Ione was next to the couch of Glaucus. The seats wereveneered with tortoiseshell, and covered with quilts stuffed withfeathers, and ornamented with costly embroideries. The modern ornamentsof epergne or plateau were supplied by images of the gods, wrought inbronze, ivory, and silver. The sacred salt-cellar and the familiarLares were not forgotten. Over the table and the seats a rich canopy wassuspended from the ceiling. At each corner of the table were loftycandelabra--for though it was early noon, the room was darkened--whilefrom tripods, placed in different parts of the room, distilled the odorof myrrh and frankincense; and upon the abacus, or sideboard, largevases and various ornaments of silver were ranged, much with the sameostentation (but with more than the same taste) that we find displayedat a modern feast.
The custom of grace was invariably supplied by that of libations to thegods; and Vesta, as queen of the household gods, usually received firstthat graceful homage.
This ceremony being performed, the slaves showered flowers upon thecouches and the floor, and crowned each guest with rosy garlands,intricately woven with ribands, tied by the rind of the linden-tree, andeach intermingled with the ivy and the amethyst--supposed preventivesagainst the effect of wine; the wreaths of the women only were exemptedfrom these leaves, for it was not the fashion for them to drink wine inpublic. It was then that the president Diomed thought it advisable toinstitute a basileus, or director of the feast--an important office,sometimes chosen by lot; sometimes, as now, by the master of theentertainment.
Diomed was not a little puzzled as to his election. The invalid senatorwas too grave and too infirm for the proper fulfilment of his duty; theaedile Pansa was adequate enough to the task: but then, to choose thenext in official rank to the senator, was an affront to the senatorhimself. While deliberating between the merits of the others, he caughtthe mirthful glance of Sallust, and, by a sudden inspiration, named thejovial epicure to the rank of director, or arbiter bibendi.
Sallust received the appointment with becoming humility.
'I shall be a merciful king,' said he, 'to those who drink deep; to arecusant, Minos himself shall be less inexorable. Beware!'
The slaves handed round basins of perfumed water, by which lavation thefeast commenced: and now the table groaned under the initiatory course.
The conversation, at first desultory and scattered, allowed Ione andGlaucus to carry on those sweet whispers, which are worth all theeloquence in the world. Julia watched them with flashing eyes.
'How soon shall her place be mine!' thought she.
But Clodius, who sat in the centre table, so as to observe well thecountenance of Julia, guessed her pique, and resolved to profit by it.He addressed her across the table in set phrases of gallantry; and as hewas of high birth and of a showy person, the vain Julia was not so muchin love as to be insensible to his attentions.
The slaves, in the interim, were constantly kept upon the alert by thevigilant Sallust, who chased one cup by another with a celerity whichseemed as if he were resolved upon exhausting those capacious cellarswhich the reader may yet see beneath the house of Diomed. The worthymerchant began to repent his choice, as amphora after amphora waspierced and emptied. The slaves, all under the age of manhood (theyoungest being about ten years old--it was they who filled the wine--theeldest, some five years older, mingled it with water), seemed to sharein the zeal of Sallust; and the face of Diomed began to glow as hewatched the provoking complacency with which they seconded the exertionsof the king of the feast.
'Pardon me, O senator!' said Sallust; 'I see you flinch; your purple hemcannot save you--drink!'
'By the gods,' said the senator, coughing, 'my lungs are already onfire; you proceed with so miraculous a swiftness, that Phaeton himselfwas nothing to you. I am infirm, O pleasant Sallust: you must exonerateme.'
'Not I, by Vesta! I am an impartial monarch--drink.'
The poor senator, compelled by the laws of the table, was forced tocomply. Alas! every cup was bringing him nearer and nearer to theStygian pool.
'Gently! gently! my king,' groaned Diomed; 'we already begin to...'
'Treason!' interrupted Sallust; 'no stern Brutus here!--no interferencewith royalty!'
'But our female guests...'
'Love a toper! Did not Ariadne dote upon Bacchus?'
The feast proceeded; the guests grew more talkative and noisy; thedessert or last course was already on the table; and the slaves boreround water with myrrh and hyssop for the finishing lavation. At thesame time, a small circular table that had been placed in the spaceopposite the guests suddenly, and as by magic, seemed to open in thecentre, and cast up a fragrant shower, sprinkling the table and theguests; while as it ceased the awning above them was drawn aside, andthe guests perceived that a rope had been stretched across the ceiling,and that one of those nimble dancers for which Pompeii was socelebrated, and whose descendants add so charming a grace to thefestivities of Astley's or Vauxhall, was now treading his airy measuresright over their heads.
This apparition, removed but by a cord from one's pericranium, andindulging the most vehement leaps, apparently with the intention ofalighting upon that cerebral region, would probably be regarded withsome terror by a party in May Fair; but our Pompeian revellers seemed tobehold the spectacle with delighted curiosity, and applauded inproportion as the dancer appeared with the most difficulty to missfalling upon the head of whatever guest he particularly selected todance above. He paid the senator, indeed, the peculiar compliment ofliterally falling from the rope, and catching it again with his hand,just as the whole party imagined the skull of the Roman was as muchfractured as ever that of the poet whom the eagle took for a tortoise.At length, to the great relief of at least Ione, who had not muchaccustomed herself to this entertainment, the dancer suddenly paused asa strain of music was heard from without. He danced again still morewildly; the air changed, the dancer paused again; no, it could notdissolve the charm which was supposed to possess him! He representedone who by a strange disorder is compelled to dance, and whom only acertain air of music can cure. At length the musician seemed to hit onthe right tune; the dancer gave one leap, swung himself down from therope, alighted on the floor, and vanished.
One art now yielded to another; and the musicians who were stationedwithout on the terrace struck up a soft and mellow air, to which weresung the following words, made almost indistinct by the barrier betweenand the exceeding lowness of the minstrelsy:--
FESTIVE MUSIC SHOULD BE LOW
I
Hark! through these flowers our music sends its greeting To your loved halls, where Psilas shuns the day; When the young god his Cretan nymph was meeting He taught Pan's rustic pipe this gliding lay: Soft as the dews of wine Shed in this banquet hour, The rich libation of Sound's stream divine, O reverent harp, to Aphrodite pour!
II
Wild rings the trump o'er ranks to glory marching; Music's sublimer bursts for war are meet; But sweet lips murmuring under wreaths o'er-arching, Find the low whispers like their own most sweet. Steal, my lull'd music, steal Like womans's half-heard tone, So that whoe'er shall hear, shall think to feel In thee the voice of lips that love his own.
At the end of that song Ione's cheek blushed more deeply than before,and Glaucus had contrived, under cover of the table, to steal her hand.
'It is a pretty
song,' said Fulvius, patronizingly.
'Ah! if you would oblige us!' murmured the wife of Pansa.
'Do you wish Fulvius to sing?' asked the king of the feast, who had justcalled on the assembly to drink the health of the Roman senator, a cupto each letter of his name.
'Can you ask?' said the matron, with a complimentary glance at the poet.
Sallust snapped his fingers, and whispering the slave who came to learnhis orders, the latter disappeared, and returned in a few moments with asmall harp in one hand, and a branch of myrtle in the other. The slaveapproached the poet, and with a low reverence presented to him the harp.
'Alas! I cannot play,' said the poet.
'Then you must sing to the myrtle. It is a Greek fashion: Diomed lovesthe Greeks--I love the Greeks--you love the Greeks--we all love theGreeks--and between you and me this is not the only thing we have stolenfrom them. However, I introduce this custom--I, the king: sing, subject,sing!' The poet, with a bashful smile, took the myrtle in his hands, andafter a short prelude sang as follows, in a pleasant and well-tunedvoice:--
THE CORONATION OF THE LOVES
I
The merry Loves one holiday Were all at gambols madly; But Loves too long can seldom play Without behaving sadly. They laugh'd, they toy'd, they romp'd about, And then for change they all fell out. Fie, fie! how can they quarrel so? My Lesbia--ah, for shame, love Methinks 'tis scarce an hour ago When we did just the same, love.
II
The Loves, 'tis thought, were free till then, They had no king or laws, dear; But gods, like men, should subject be, Say all the ancient saws, dear. And so our crew resolved, for quiet, To choose a king to curb their riot. A kiss: ah! what a grievous thing For both, methinks, 'twould be, child, If I should take some prudish king, And cease to be so free, child!
III
Among their toys a Casque they found, It was the helm of Ares; With horrent plumes the crest was crown'd, It frightened all the Lares. So fine a king was never known-- They placed the helmet on the throne. My girl, since Valor wins the world, They chose a mighty master; But thy sweet flag of smiles unfurled Would win the world much faster!
IV
The Casque soon found the Loves too wild A troop for him to school them; For warriors know how one such child Has aye contrived to fool them. They plagued him so, that in despair He took a wife the plague to share. If kings themselves thus find the strife Of earth, unshared, severe, girl; Why just to halve the ills of life, Come, take your partner here, girl.
V
Within that room the Bird of Love The whole affair had eyed then; The monarch hail'd the royal dove, And placed her by his side then: What mirth amidst the Loves was seen! 'Long live,' they cried, 'our King and Queen.' Ah! Lesbia, would that thrones were mine, And crowns to deck that brow, love! And yet I know that heart of thine For me is throne enow, love!
VI
The urchins hoped to tease the mate As they had teased the hero; But when the Dove in judgment sate They found her worse than Nero! Each look a frown, each word a law; The little subjects shook with awe. In thee I find the same deceit-- Too late, alas! a learner! For where a mien more gently sweet? And where a tyrant sterner?
This song, which greatly suited the gay and lively fancy of thePompeians, was received with considerable applause, and the widowinsisted on crowning her namesake with the very branch of myrtle towhich he had sung. It was easily twisted into a garland, and theimmortal Fulvius was crowned amidst the clapping of hands and shouts ofIo triumphe! The song and the harp now circulated round the party, anew myrtle branch being handed about, stopping at each person who couldbe prevailed upon to sing.
The sun began now to decline, though the revellers, who had worn awayseveral hours, perceived it not in their darkened chamber; and thesenator, who was tired, and the warrior, who had to return toHerculaneum, rising to depart, gave the signal for the generaldispersion. 'Tarry yet a moment, my friends,' said Diomed; 'if you willgo so soon, you must at least take a share in our concluding game.'
So saying, he motioned to one of the ministri, and whispering him, theslave went out, and presently returned with a small bowl containingvarious tablets carefully sealed, and, apparently, exactly similar.Each guest was to purchase one of these at the nominal price of thelowest piece of silver: and the sport of this lottery (which was thefavorite diversion of Augustus, who introduced it) consisted in theinequality, and sometimes the incongruity, of the prizes, the nature andamount of which were specified within the tablets. For instance, thepoet, with a wry face, drew one of his own poems (no physician ever lesswillingly swallowed his own draught); the warrior drew a case ofbodkins, which gave rise to certain novel witticisms relative toHercules and the distaff; the widow Fulvia obtained a largedrinking-cup; Julia, a gentleman's buckle; and Lepidus, a lady'spatch-box. The most appropriate lot was drawn by the gambler Clodius,who reddened with anger on being presented to a set of cogged dice. Acertain damp was thrown upon the gaiety which these various lots createdby an accident that was considered ominous; Glaucus drew the mostvaluable of all the prizes, a small marble statue of Fortune, of Grecianworkmanship: on handing it to him the slave suffered it to drop, and itbroke in pieces.
A shiver went round the assembly, and each voice cried spontaneously onthe gods to avert the omen.
Glaucus alone, though perhaps as superstitious as the rest, affected tobe unmoved.
'Sweet Neapolitan,' whispered he tenderly to Ione, who had turned paleas the broken marble itself, 'I accept the omen. It signifies that inobtaining thee, Fortune can give no more--she breaks her image when sheblesses me with thine.'
In order to divert the impression which this incident had occasioned inan assembly which, considering the civilization of the guests, wouldseem miraculously superstitious, if at the present day in a countryparty we did not often see a lady grow hypochondriacal on leaving a roomlast of thirteen, Sallust now crowning his cup with flowers, gave thehealth of their host. This was followed by a similar compliment to theemperor; and then, with a parting cup to Mercury to send them pleasantslumbers, they concluded the entertainment by a last libation, and brokeup the party. Carriages and litters were little used in Pompeii, partlyowing to the extreme narrowness of the streets, partly to the convenientsmallness of the city. Most of the guests replacing their sandals,which they had put off in the banquet-room, and induing their cloaks,left the house on foot attended by their slaves.
Meanwhile, having seen Ione depart, Glaucus turning to the staircasewhich led down to the rooms of Julia, was conducted by a slave to anapartment in which he found the merchant's daughter already seated.
'Glaucus!' said she, looking down, 'I see that you really love Ione--sheis indeed beautiful.'
'Julia is charming enough to be generous,' replied the Greek. 'Yes, Ilove Ione; amidst all the youth who court you, may you have oneworshipper as sincere.'
'I pray the gods to grant it! See, Glaucus, these pearls are thepresent I destine to your bride: may Juno give her health to wear them!'
So saying, she placed a case in his hand, containing a row of pearls ofsome size and price. It was so much the custom for persons about to bemarried to receive these gifts, that Glaucus could have little scruplein accepting the necklace, though the gallant and proud Athenian inlyresolved to requite the gift by one of thrice its value. Julia thenstopping short his thanks, poured forth some wi
ne into a small bowl.
'You have drunk many toasts with my father,' said she smiling--'one nowwith me. Health and fortune to your bride!'
She touched the cup with her lips and then presented it to Glaucus. Thecustomary etiquette required that Glaucus should drain the wholecontents; he accordingly did so. Julia, unknowing the deceit whichNydia had practised upon her, watched him with sparkling eyes; althoughthe witch had told her that the effect might not be immediate, she yetsanguinely trusted to an expeditious operation in favor of her charms.She was disappointed when she found Glaucus coldly replace the cup, andconverse with her in the same unmoved but gentle tone as before. Andthough she detained him as long as she decorously could do, no changetook place in his manner. 'But to-morrow,' thought she, exultinglyrecovering her disappointment--'to-morrow, alas for Glaucus!'
Alas for him, indeed!