Aurelian; or, Rome in the Third Century
be loath, I warrant you beforehand, to ferry over such a slashed and
swollen company. Now ought you in charity,' he continued, addressing a
half-naked savage, who was helping to drag the bodies from the cart, 'to
have these trunks well washed ere you bury them, or pitch them into the
Tiber, else they will never get over the Styx--not forgetting too the
ferriage--' what more folly he would have uttered, I know not, for the
wretch to whom he spoke suddenly seized the lash of the driver of the
cart, and laid it over Milo's shoulders, saying, as he did it,
'Off, fool, or my fist shall do for you what it did for one of these.'
The bystanders, at this, set up a hoarse shouting, one of them
exclaiming, so that I could hear him--
'There goes the Christian Piso, we or the lions will have a turn at him
yet. These are the fellows that spoil our trade.'
'If report goes true, they won't spoil it long,' replied another.
No rank and no power is secure against the affronts of this lawless
tribe; they are a sort of licensed brawlers, their brutal and inhuman
trade rendering them insensible to all fear from any quarter. Death is
to them but as a scratch on the finger--they care not for it, when nor
how it comes. The slightest cause--a passing word--a look--a motion--is
enough to inflame their ferocious passions, and bring on quarrel and
murder. Riot and death are daily occurrences in the neighborhood of
these schools of trained assassins. Milo knew their character well
enough, but he deemed himself to be uttering somewhat that should amuse
rather than enrage, and was mortified rather than terrified, I believe,
at the sudden application of the lash. The unfeigned surprise he
manifested, together with the quick leap which his horse made, who
partook of the blow, was irresistibly ludicrous. He was nearly thrown
off backwards in the speed of the animal's flight along the road. It was
some time before I overtook him.
'Intermeddling,' I said to Milo, as I came up with him, 'is a dangerous
vice. How feel your shoulders?'
'I shall remember that one-eyed butcher, and if there be virtue in
hisses or in thumbs, he shall rue the hour he laid a lash on Gallienus,
poor fellow! Whose horsemanship is equal to such an onset? I'll haunt
the theatre till my chance come.'
'Well, well, let us forget this. How went the games yesterday?'
'Never, as I hear,' he said, 'and as I remember, were they more liberal,
or more magnificent. Larger, or more beautiful, or finer beasts, neither
Asia nor Africa ever sent over. They fought as if they had been trained
to it, like these scholars of Sosia, and in most cases they bore away
the palm from them. How many of Sosia's men exactly fell, it is not
known, but not fewer than threescore men were either torn in pieces, or
rescued too much lacerated to fight more.'
'What captives were sacrificed?'
'I did not learn of what nation they were, nor how many. All I know, is
what I witnessed toward the end of the sport. Never before did I behold
such a form, nor such feats of strength! He was another Hercules. It was
rumored he was from the forests of Germany. If you will believe it,
which I scarce can, though I saw it, he fought successively with six of
Sosia's best men, and one after another laid them all sprawling. A
seventh was then set upon him, he having no time to breathe, or even
drink. Many however cried out against this. But Romans, you know, like
not to have their fun spoiled, so the seventh was not taken off. As
every one foresaw, this was too much by just one for the hero; but he
fought desperately, and it is believed Sosia's man got pushes he will
never recover from. He was soon however on his knees, and then on his
back, the sword of his antagonist at his throat, he lying like a gasping
fish at his mercy--who waited the pleasure of the spectators a moment,
before he struck. Then was there a great shouting all over the theatre
in his behalf, besides making the sign to spare him. But just at the
moment, as for him ill fortune would have it, some poltroon cried out
with a voice that went all over the theatre, 'The dog is a Christian!'
Whereupon, like lightning, every thumb went up, and down plunged the
sword into his neck. So, master, thou seest what I tell thee every day,
there is small virtue in being a Christian. It is every way dangerous.
If a thief run through the streets the cry is, a Christian! a Christian!
If a man is murdered, they who did it accuse some neighboring Christian,
and he dies for it. If a Christian fall into the Tiber, men look on as
on a drowning-dog. If he slip or fall in a crowd, they will help to
trample him to death. If he is sick or poor, none but his own tribe will
help him. A slave has a better chance. Even the Jew despises him, and
spits upon his gown as he passes. What but the love of contempt and
death can make one a Christian, 'tis hard to see. Had that captive been
other than a Christian, he would not have fallen as he did.'
'Very likely. But the Christians, you know, frequent not the
amphitheatre. Had they been there in their just proportion to the rest,
the voice would at least have been a divided one.'
'Nay, as for that.' he rejoined, 'there were some stout voices raised in
his behalf to the last, but too few to be regarded. But even in the
streets, where all sorts are found, there is none to take the
Christian's part--unless it be that old gashed soldier of the fifth
legion, who stalks through the streets as though all Rome were his. By
the gods, I believe he would beard Aurelian himself! He will stand at a
corner, in some public place, and preach to the crowds, and give never
an inch for all their curses and noise. They fear him too much, I
believe, to attack him with aught but words. And I wonder not at it. A
few days since, a large dog was in wicked wantonness, as I must allow,
set upon a poor Christian boy. Macer, so he is called about the city, at
the moment came up. Never tiger seized his prey as he seized that dog,
and first dashing out his brains upon the pavement, pursued then the
pursuers of the boy, and beat them to jelly with the carcase of the
beast, and then walked away unmolested, leading the child to his home.'
'Men reverence courage, Milo, everywhere and in all.'
'That do they. It was so with me once, when Gallienus--'
'Gallop, Milo, to that mile-stone, and report to me how far we have
come.'
I still as ever extract much, Fausta, from my faithful if foolish slave.
* * * * *
In due time and without hindrance, or accident, I reached the outer gate
of my friend's villa.
The gate was opened by Coelia, whose husband is promoted to the place
of porter. Her face shone as she saw me, and she hastened to assure me
that all were well at the house, holding up at the same moment a
curly-headed boy for me to admire, whom, with a blush and a faltering
tongue, she called Lucius. I told her I was pleased with the name, for
it was a good one, and he should not suffer for bearing it, if I could
help it. Milo thought it unlucky enough that it should be named after a
Christian, and I am certain has taken occasion to remonstrate with its
mother on the subject; but, as you may suppose, did not succeed in
infusing his own terrors.
I was first met by Lucilia, who received me with her usual heartiness.
Marcus was out on some remote part of the estate, overseeing his slaves.
In a few moments, by the assiduous Lucilia and her attendants, I was
brushed and washed and set down to a table--though it was so few hours
since I had left Rome--covered with bread, honey, butter and olives, a
cold capon with salads, and wine such as the cellars of Marcus alone can
furnish. As the only way in which to keep the good opinion of Lucilia
is to eat, I ate of all that was on the table, she assuring me that
everything was from their own grounds--the butter made by her own
hands--and that I might search Rome in vain for better. This I readily
admitted. Indeed no butter is like hers--so yellow and so hard--nor
bread so light, and so white. Even her honey is more delicious than what
I find elsewhere, the bees knowing by instinct who they are working for;
and the poultry is fatter and tenderer, the hens being careful never to
over-fatigue themselves, and the peacocks and the geese not to exhaust
themselves in screaming and cackling. All nature, alive and dead, takes
upon itself a trimmer and more perfect seeming within her influences.
I had sat thus gossipping with Lucilia, enjoying the balmy breezes of a
warm autumn day, as they drew through the great hall of the house, when,
preceded by the bounding Gallus, the master of the house entered in
field dress of broad sun-hat, open neck, close coat depending to the
knees, and boots that brought home with them the spoils of many a
well-ploughed field.
'Well, sir Christian,' he cried, 'I joy to see thee, although thus
recreant. But how is it that thou lookest as ever before? Are not these
vanities of silk, and gold, and fine clothes, renounced by those of the
new religion? Your appearance says nay, and, by Jupiter! wine has been
drunk already! Nay, nay, Lucilia, it was hardly a pagan act to tempt our
strict friend with that Falernian.'
'Falernian is it?'
'Yes, of the vintage of the fourth of Gallienus. Delicious, was it not?
But by and by thou shalt taste something better than that--as much
better as that is than anything of the same name thou didst ever raise
to thy lips at the table of Aurelian. Piso! never was a face more
welcome! Not a soul has looked in upon us for days and days. Not,
Lucilia, since the Kalends, when young Flaccus, with a boat-load of
roysterers, dropt down the river. But why comes not Julia too? She could
not leave the games and theatres, hah?'
'Marcus,' said Lucilia, 'you forget it was the princess who first
seduced Lucius. But for that eastern voyage for the Persian Calpurnius,
Piso would have been still, I dare say, what his parents made him. Let
us not yet however stir this topic; but first of all, Lucius, give us
the city news. How went the dedication? we have heard strange tales.'
'How went it by report?' I asked.
'O, it would be long telling,' said Lucilia. 'Only, for one thing, we
heard that there was a massacre of the Christians, in which some said
hundreds, and some, thousands fell. For a moment, I assure you, we
trembled for you. It was quickly contradicted, but the confirmation
afforded by your actual presence, of your welfare, is not unwelcome. You
must lay a part of the heartiness of our reception, especially the old
Falernian, to the account of our relieved fears. But let us hear.'
I then went over the last days in Rome, adding what I had been able to
gather from Milo, when it was such that I could trust to it. When I had
satisfied their curiosity, and had moreover described to Lucilia the
dresses of Livia on so great an occasion, and the fashions which were
raging, Marcus proposed that I should accompany him over his farm, and
observe his additions and improvements, and the condition of his slaves.
I accepted the proposal with pleasure, and we soon set forth on our
ramble, accompanied by Gallus, now riding his stick and now gambolling
about the lawns and fields with his dog.
I like this retreat of Curtius better almost than any other of the
suburban villas of our citizens. There is an air of calm senatorial
dignity about it which modern edifices want. It looks as if it had seen
more than one generation of patrician inhabitants. There is little unity
or order--as those words are commonly understood--observable in the
structure of the house, but it presents to the eye an irregular
assemblage of forms, the work of different ages, and built according to
the taste and skill of distant and changing times. Some portions are