Felicitas: A Tale of the German Migrations: A.D. 476

  CHAPTER XI.

  With the exception of the two leaders, very few Romans had fallen inthe short hand-to-hand combat; for the Bajuvaren duke had before theattack given the order: "To-day--prisoners! No slain! Consider, ye men;every man slain is a loss, every prisoner a servant gained for the newmasters of the land!"

  Fulvius and Crispus had been among the troops turned by Severus againstthe Bajuvaren. When their ranks were broken, the nephew cried to theuncle: "To Felicitas! Through the ford!" and as they had stoodtogether, so they now ran together towards the river below the bridge,for that was held by the enemy.

  But the stout Crispus, although he had quickly thrown away spear andshield, was soon left far behind the agile stone-mason.

  An Alemannian horseman, with a youth running at his side, followedboth.

  Crispus was soon overtaken.

  His ridiculous appearance challenged the rider to give him a blow onthe casserole covering his head in the place of a helmet, it fell overhis eyes and nose, from which poured a stream of blood, he gave a loudcry and fell to the ground; he thought he was dead.

  But he soon came back to the agreeable certainty of life, when thefoot-soldier, who had remained by him, roughly tore the casserole fromhis head. Crispus sprang up, gasping for breath, the German laughed inhis big, fat, highly-astonished face.

  "Ha! this Roman hero has had good provender. And this nose is not redwith its own blood or with water either. Ho, friend, I will set theefree, if thou wilt reveal to me where in Juvavum the best wine can begot. It seems to me thou art the man to know it."

  Crispus, so pleasantly spoken to, recovered himself quickly, now thathe was quite convinced that he was not dead, and would not have to diefor the fatherland.

  He drew a deep breath and spoke, raising his hand as an oath:

  "I swear as a Roman burgher, Jaffa, the good Jew, near the Basilica,has the sweetest. He is not baptized--but neither is his Falernian.

  "Excellent!" cried the Alemannian. "Come, ye friends!"--a whole crowdof Alemanni and Bajuvaren were shaking hands close about him--"to Jaffathe Jew, to drink our gratitude to the god Ziu for our pleasantvictory! Thou, fat fellow, lead on, and if, contrary to thine oath, itis sour, this Jew's wine, we will drown thee therein."

  But Crispus was not alarmed; he rejoiced, on the contrary, that hewould now be able to drink gratis, as much as he wished, of thechoicest long-stored Cyprus wine, which hitherto had been quite beyondhis means. That it was to be drunk to the honour of the god Ziu did notmake the wine worse. "And," said he to himself, "it is at all eventsbetter pleasing to God that we empty the Jew's wine-skins than those ofa good Christian."

  He did not trouble about his house. "They will not interfere with myold Ancilla; her wrinkles will protect her better than many shields.The bit of money is buried; they will not carry away the plasterstatues, they will only cut off their noses with great zeal and anincomprehensible liking for the business: it does not matter, one canstick them on again," But he was anxious about Fulvius, aboutFelicitas.

  He looked about for the fugitive, but could not see him either lyingdead, or brought in a prisoner; he seemed to be swallowed up by theearth: the rider who had pursued him had turned his horse in anotherdirection, and was pursuing other flying Romans. Crispus hoped that theyoung husband had escaped. He (Crispus) was quite unable to helpFelicitas, for his conqueror held him firmly by the shoulder and pushedhim towards the bridge.

  "Forward! Thou canst not imagine, Roman, how Alemannian thirst burns.And near the Basilica, sayest thou? That is right! There we shall find,besides, gold and silver cups for the liquor."

  And in front of the whole noisy, laughing, shouting swarm, the fatCrispus, an involuntary pot-companion, stumped along as fast as hisshort legs could carry him, towards the gate through which he hadshortly before marched, a proud helmeted legionary. He had left thecasserole where it fell, but he was still reminded of it by thesmarting of his nose.

  In the meantime Fulvius had actually disappeared. He had not thrownaway shield and spear, like his corpulent companion; he was young,strong, he had no fear, and he thought of the promise which he hadgiven at his release to the gallant Severus. He had now reached theriver and stood firmly on the marshy bank. He heard the hoof-strokes ofthe galloping horse coming nearer and nearer, and he resolutely turned,looked at the enemy fiercely, raised his spear, took good aim and threwit with all the strength of his arm against the face of the German.

  "Well aimed!" cried he, as he dropped the reins, and with his left handcaught the whizzing spear.

  The shield of Fulvius would now have availed him little, for thegalloping horseman aimed at the same time with both spears, his own andthe one he had caught, at the Roman's head and abdomen. But before thedeadly lances reached him, Fulvius had suddenly disappeared; instepping backwards from the snorting horse, that must the next instanthave prostrated him, he lost his balance, slipped on the smooth grass,and fell backwards into the stream, the waters of which, dashing up,closed over him. The Alemannian bent down from his steed and lookedafter him laughing as he was carried away.

  "Greet the Danube for me" cried he, "when thou hast reached it;" thenturned his horse and galloped across the fields.