The Lion's Brood
V.
THE BANQUET.
Marcia had felt an instinctive shrinking when she saw that the women,also, were to recline, after the manner of the dissolute Greeks,instead of sitting, as she had been taught to consider the only decentposture for a Roman maid or matron. Then the thought of her missionbrought the blush surging to her cheeks, whence it receded, leavingthem pale with a sterner resolve. Was not love of country the greatestvirtue? It was time to school herself, to shrink at nothing in thatcause. As she took her place, she noticed that the priest of Melkarth,who lay directly opposite, had been regarding her fixedly.
She could see his face now, and it was not a pleasing one. The Semiticfeatures, fine and noble in their best form, but capable of greaterdepths of degeneration than those of any other type, were in his caseexaggerated to an extreme degree of coarseness. The mouth was largeand badly formed, the forehead low, the small eyes peered out snakelikefrom under heavy, puffy lids. The nose alone was cut with any measureof fineness, and that projected, wide-nostrilled, and aquiline as thebeak of a bird of prey. It would have been difficult to imagine a facemore gross and sensual in its lines, and the look of low admiration andeagerness which it now wore, was well calculated to bring out thesensuality in its most repulsive form. Marcia felt her cheeks burningunder the fixedness of the man's gaze, and, looking down, she struggledto compose herself by a close study of the gorgeous coverlid of thecouch,--a fine Campanian texture, dyed scarlet, and heavily embroideredwith figures of birds and beasts and flowers, worked into an elaboratedesign.
Even then, his eyes seemed to burn through her hair, through her brain,down into her heart, and she found her will revolting more violentlythan ever against the possibilities involved in her mission.
The voice of Hannibal, addressing some conventional compliment toStenius upon the perfection of the arrangements, came as an intenserelief, for the others all turned toward the speaker, and, a momentlater, the slaves passed around with silver basins and ewers, pouringscented water upon the hands of the guests and drying them with daintyflickings of filmy napkins. Vessels of gold and silver and fineearthenware burdened the tables, while at each end of the garden stooda butler in charge of several large amphorae. Those at the north endwere half buried amid imitation mountains, peaked with real snowwherewith the wine was to be cooled, while those at the south weresurrounded by more than tropical verdure, with the braziers and vesselsof hot water beside them, ready for mixing the warm draughts.
And now the slaves hurried hither and thither, bearing costly disheswith elaborately dressed viands: dormice strewed with honey and poppyseeds; beccaficoes surrounded by yolks of eggs, seasoned with pepperand made to resemble peafowls' eggs in a nest whereon the stuffed birdwas sitting; fish floating in rich gravies that spouted from the mouthsof four tritons at the corners of the dish; crammed fowls, hares fittedwith wings to resemble Pegasus, thrushes in pastry stuffed with raisinsand nuts, oysters, scallops, snails on silver gridirons, boar stuffedwith fieldfares, with baskets of figs and dates hanging from his tusks,sweetmeats, cold tarts with Spanish honey--these and a hundred otherdishes, strange or costly, followed each other in quick succession,and, all the while, the carvers flourished their knives in time withmusic, now of instruments, again of choruses of boys and girls. Thebutlers, too, had not been idle, and the cups were constantlyreplenished, first with the warm and, later, with the cold mixtures.
Yet, though both men and women ate greedily and drank deeply, a gloomseemed to hang over the feast. The Carthaginians, whether influencedby native dignity or by a real or simulated contempt for their hosts,were reserved and silent, while the Capuans seemed, at one moment,forcing themselves into strained merriment, and, at another, coweringbefore the cold eyes that watched their efforts with scarcely veiledindifference. With fear on the one side and distrust upon the other,the chances for hilarity and good fellowship looked scanty enough, andyet Stenius Ninius was too much a man of the world to yield readily tountoward social conditions.
Clapping his hands, he cried out, as the head butler bowed before him:--
"Now, my good Cappadox, let us have no more of these native vintages.Good though they were, they but serve to cultivate the taste for thewines that cement friendships such as ours. Henceforth pour for usonly the Coan, Leucadian, and Thasian, and see that you select thoseamphorae whose contents are toothless with age."
A rough laugh rolled up from the other table, and the voice ofHannibal-the-Fighter broke out with:--
"It is well said, host. Truly I was wondering if we had been drinkingfrom the famous cellars of Capua. We washed our horses with betterwine in the north."
Stenius flushed. Then he smiled.
"And, Cappadox," he went on, in an unruffled voice, "do you send whatremains in my cellar of the vintages we have been drinking, to thehorse of my worthy guest."
At the giant's discourteous words, Hannibal himself had started fromthe mood of thought in which he had seemed well-nigh buried. A quickglance shot from his eye, and his brow furrowed. Then the courtlyanswer of Stenius relieved the situation, and he turned to his host.
"You must pardon rough words to rough soldiers, my friend. We ofCarthage have had but slender chances to avail ourselves of Greekculture and urbanity. We are mere merchants and warriors--not men ofletters or of social manners."
The hulking savage grew purple and trembled under the rebuke of hischief. Twice he essayed to speak and then discreetly gulped down thewords, for Hannibal's face, though calm and courtly, showed a hardeningof its lines which meant much to those who knew him.
As for the Campanian, he raised his hands in voluble deprecation of theapology.
Did _he_ not realize that but for soldiers and merchants, letters andsocial manners would never have come into being? It was the privilegeof so brave a warrior as Hannibal-the-Fighter to say what he pleased,and when and where. Ordinary rules were only for little men. Besides,the best of Campanian wines were truly all too poor for heroes whosesouls were already attasted to the nectar of the gods.
The suppressed fury and shame of the offender melted away under thebalm of these honeyed words, and, laughing loudly but with someconstraint, he tossed off to his host a cup of the wine last brought.
And now Hannibal seemed to shake himself loose from the bonds ofsilence and thought, though his conversation still showed the trend ofhis mind. He turned to Calavius.
"Thirty thousand foot and four thousand horse form an excellent array,and yet I should imagine that the second city in Italy could do evenbetter--in case of need."
The attention of hosts and guests became tense at once, though Marciacould note that the motives were diverse.
Calavius seemed nervous and flustered.
"There was a time when that was undoubtedly so, my Lord," he saidhastily; "but, now, many of our young men have fallen in the wars, andmany are serving with the enemy, unable to escape and doubtless inserious danger--"
"Three hundred horsemen," interrupted Hannibal, dryly, "and my spiesinform me that they are likely to continue serving Rome--by choice, aswould doubtless many of your well-born at home--like this fellow,Magius," and his brow darkened ominously.
The Campanians moved uneasily on the couches.
"Magius is a traitor and will be dealt with in due season," saidStenius. "It is friends and festivities first with us, and enemies andpunishments later."
"Yes, Magius shall be dealt with," echoed Hannibal; but theacquiescence brought no relief to his hearers. Why should he feel itnecessary to supplement their assurance so significantly? Did not thetreaty between Carthage and Capua provide that Capuan laws andmagistrates should still govern all Capuans? Why should he speak somarkedly of their military power? Did not the treaty expressly statethat no Capuan was to be called upon for military duty except by hisown rulers?
Calavius had been signalling vigorously to his son, Perolla, who hadreclined silent and gloomy, but who now seemed about to speak.Disregarding his father's warni
ng, the young man broke in:--
"It is idle to deny that the Campanian horse serve willingly with Romeand will continue so to serve. As for Decius Magius, there are manygood men here who hold with him, but who lack his boldness."
For an instant every one held his breath in terror of the comingoutburst, but those whose angry or frightened eyes first ventured toglance toward the captain-general saw his face wreathed in smiles, andhis wine cup raised toward the daring speaker.
"Happiness to you, flower of Campanian youth! and know that there aretwo things that Hannibal prizes most among men: a friend who was oncean enemy, and a friend who dares to speak the truth."
Calavius had recovered his composure during this speech.
"I would not have you imagine, my Lord," he began, "but that my sonspeaks as he believes and in order that you may have full information;yet, he is ill to-day in body and mind, and, even were it not so, I amolder than he and know more of men. That Decius Magius hassympathizers, it is vain to deny; but that they are many orinfluential, I, who know the Capuans, aver is not the case. As for ourhorsemen, it is easy to see that their safety demands an apparentfriendship for Rome. It is not wise for three hundred to revile thirtythousand."
Hannibal had continued to keep his gaze upon Perolla, scarcelylistening to his father's words. In the young man's face something ofsurprise had mingled with his half-defiant, half-moody expression.
"I do not ask of you, my son," pursued the general, "that you whoseheart was but lately with our enemies, should love and trust us atonce. That were the part of a hypocrite, and I honour you, both forthe filial piety that threw down your preference before your father'swill, and for the slowness with which your heart follows your act.Grant me but this: that you judge us fairly by our deeds, and if weprove not better friends than Rome, return to them in peace and safety.Meanwhile there is a horse with crimson mane and feet that shall be ledfrom my stable to yours in the morning. Ride him, and remember thatHannibal honours courage, filial obedience, and truth--all in likemeasure."
Subdued applause from both tables followed these words, but the face ofPerolla lost but little of its stubborn hostility. Hannibal turnedaway, and Calavius and Ninius sought to cover by eager talking theyoung man's ungracious reception of such signal favour. The faces ofthe Carthaginians remained for the most part impassive; only their darkeyes seemed to sparkle, either with wine or suppressed passion. Marciastill felt that one pair was trying to look through her, and she wasconscious that Silenus, the Sicilian Greek, was making eager andindecorous love to one of the women at the other table. Another of thelatter had just ventured on some light badinage with the chief guest,in whose face smiles had chased away all the abstraction of the earlierhours. He answered her as lightly, but with indifference, and turnedto Marcia.
"And what says our Roman beauty?" he asked. "She has come boldly andfar to see her enemies. Who knows but she has a boon to beg."
Again Marcia noted disturbance under Calavius' smile. He was wonderingat the general's knowledge. Then he realized that Mago's report mustbe its basis, and his face cleared.
"Yes, truly, I _have_ a boon to ask," replied Marcia, fixing her greateyes upon the bearded front, stern through its smiles. "It is that youwill spare one house in Italy from ravage and destruction."
"And where may this house be?" he asked in bantering tones. "We shallleave many standing, but this one most surely of all."
"It is upon the brow of the Palatine Hill--" she began, and then aburst of applause gave notice that the compliment had struck home. "Itis my father's," she concluded, blushing.
Calavius was in ecstasy over the graceful tact of his protege. NoCapuan or Greek could have done better. Hannibal eyed her with acurious expression, half admiring, half doubtful.
"I grant the boon--freely," he said. Then, fixing her with his gaze,he went on, "And when will you claim it?"
"The son of Hamilcar knows best," replied Marcia, casting down hereyes, and again she felt the approval of her host and his friends.
That Hannibal was pleased and flattered was evident, and yet there wasa certain reserve in his manner. Possibly he suspected that she wishedto provoke an announcement of his plans; perhaps an even deeper insightled him near to a fuller conception of her purpose.
"Yes, it is truly for us to say," he said loudly, glancing around theboard; then, turning quickly to Marcia: "I understand that youcounselled delay until spring to my brother, Mago. Why?"
So frank a question, so different from all that had been told of themore than Oriental craft of the Carthaginians, and one that went sostraight to the motive of her presence, threw Marcia into someconfusion. Calavius noticed it, and, fearing lest she might saysomething to do away with the impression of her former tact, he came tothe rescue.
"Surely we shall not insult my Lord Bacchus by a council of war in hispresence?" but Hannibal waved his hand toward him and looked fixedly atMarcia.
"Goddesses may speak on all subjects, at all times; and the gods smile."
"That my words," she began, with eyes still cast down, "were deemedworthy to be borne to my Lord, is too much honour. That he should deemthem worthy of thought, is beyond the dream of mere woman." Then,glancing up and smiling wistfully into his face, she went on: "Know,that whatever of judgment born of knowledge of the place and the menhas come to me, a girl,--that and more is for the service of the greatgeneral of Carthage,--the benignant liberator of Italy."
"Why do you advise delay?" asked Hannibal again, and the eyes ofMaharbal glittered, as he leaned over from the other table. "There arethose who say I have delayed too long already."
"For this," replied Marcia, boldly; "that you may save your soldiersand your allies; that they may lie in rest and luxury, and that, erespringtime, the cities of the Latin Name, yes, truly, and the veryrabble of Rome, shall come to you on their knees for leave to bear thehorseheads along the Sacred Way, up the Capitoline slope--"
"If in the spring, why not now?"
Maharbal and Hannibal-the-Fighter made a clucking sound of assent;Hasdrubal and the other guests seemed indifferent, but the Capuans werehanging on Marcia's words.
"Because the time is not ripe--" she began.
"Words!" cried her questioner, cutting off her speech; "I asked, _why_?"
Frightened at his vehemence, but put to it of necessity, she answered:--
"Because there are strifes and bickerings--at Rome--throughout theLatin Name--that must soon bear fruit of civil strife. The noblesgrind and hold to their privileges; the commons serve and starve andlook to Carthage for aid. How shall these things grow better, whileyou hold the garden of Italy--while the Greeks of the south and theSamnites and the men of the soil gather behind you on one side, and theGauls and Etruscans muster in the north? The water is eating at themole; soon the waves will lash up and sweep it from its foundations."
Hannibal eyed her closely for a moment. Then he said: "There are thoseat Rome and among the Latin Name who tell me otherwise. They are goodmen, and they know. Perhaps I have been even too cautious. You areyoung and beautiful. Hold fast to matters suited to youth and beauty,and leave the conduct of wars and statecraft to men." Turning toStenius, he went on, "If this Leucadian wine of yours, my Stenius, werelet into the veins of those who lie dead at Cannae, they would be fitto rise and do battle again."
Stenius bowed and smiled; Marcia grew red and then pale with shame andvexation, seeing how her plots were like to fall and crush her; but, atthis moment, the voice of Hannibal-the-Fighter rose from the othertable. Flushed with wine, he was boasting of his slain. "Four atTrebia," he cried out, "seven at Trasimenus, eighteen at Cannae--butall men. It is better to slay the wolves' whelps, if only to teachwomen that it is no longer wise to bring forth Romans. I--I who speakhave already killed eleven boys--ah! but you must wait till we enterRome. Then will be the day when they shall build new cities in Hades!"
The Carthaginians heard him with indifference; the Capuans, all savePerolla
, applauded nervously; and Marcia grew sick at heart and madwith a rage that could almost have strangled the giant as he reclined.
"And now," began Ninius, mildly, when there was a moment's silence,"that we may the better enjoy what is to come, there are baths andattendants; and the red feather will make way for new feastings at theend of two hours."
Slaves had run in to assist the diners from their couches; the Capuans,with dreams of relief, refreshment, and re-repletion; theCarthaginians, bored, but striving to be polite and to follow thecustoms of their entertainers. Even Hannibal, while his smile was halfa frown, permitted himself to be led away.
Filled with disgust and despair, Marcia felt herself all unfit to begina new revel--one that was to be made possible by loathsome practices,as yet unknown at Rome, and which bade fair to end in aimless andhideous debauchery. The women were but warming to their part, when thesummons of Stenius Ninius had proclaimed a truce with Bacchus andVenus--a truce with promise of more deadly battle to be joined. Shehad seen glances hot with wine and lust, claspings of hands, loosenedcyclas, and more lascivious reclinings. The gloomy Perolla had yieldeda little to the soft influences, and even Hannibal seemed to forcehimself to toying, if only in the name of courtesy; while, through itall, and more and more as the light of day advanced, Marcia felt theeyes of Iddilcar, priest of Melkarth, burning into her soul. He atleast gave no heed to nearer blandishments, and terror and loathingfilled her in equal measure.
A faintness--a sudden weakness born of her recent journey--served forexcuse, which Calavius seemed not unwilling to voice, and, surroundedby a guard of slaves, her litter bore her back to his house, throughstreets littered with drunken men and fluctuant with the figured robesof courtesans.