The Last Days of Pompeii Read online

  Chapter I

  A FLASH HOUSE IN POMPEII, AND THE GENTLEMEN OF THE CLASSIC RING.

  TO one of those parts of Pompeii, which were tenanted not by the lordsof pleasure, but by its minions and its victims; the haunt of gladiatorsand prize-fighters; of the vicious and the penniless; of the savage andthe obscene; the Alsatia of an ancient city--we are now transported.

  It was a large room, that opened at once on the confined and crowdedlane. Before the threshold was a group of men, whose iron andwell-strung muscles, whose short and Herculean necks, whose hardy andreckless countenances, indicated the champions of the arena. On a shelf,without the shop, were ranged jars of wine and oil; and right over thiswas inserted in the wall a coarse painting, which exhibited gladiatorsdrinking--so ancient and so venerable is the custom of signs! Withinthe room were placed several small tables, arranged somewhat in themodern fashion of 'boxes', and round these were seated several knots ofmen, some drinking, some playing at dice, some at that more skilful gamecalled 'duodecim scriptae', which certain of the blundering learned havemistaken for chess, though it rather, perhaps, resembled backgammon ofthe two, and was usually, though not always, played by the assistance ofdice. The hour was in the early forenoon, and nothing better, perhaps,than that unseasonable time itself denoted the habitual indolence ofthese tavern loungers.

  Yet, despite the situation of the house and the character of itsinmates, it indicated none of that sordid squalor which would havecharacterized a similar haunt in a modern city. The gay disposition ofall the Pompeians, who sought, at least, to gratify the sense even wherethey neglected the mind, was typified by the gaudy colors whichdecorated the walls, and the shapes, fantastic but not inelegant, inwhich the lamps, the drinking-cups, the commonest household utensils,were wrought.

  'By Pollux!' said one of the gladiators, as he leaned against the wallof the threshold, 'the wine thou sellest us, old Silenus'--and as hespoke he slapped a portly personage on the back--'is enough to thin thebest blood in one's veins.'

  The man thus caressingly saluted, and whose bared arms, white apron, andkeys and napkin tucked carelessly within his girdle, indicated him to bethe host of the tavern, was already passed into the autumn of his years;but his form was still so robust and athletic, that he might have shamedeven the sinewy shapes beside him, save that the muscles had seeded, asit were, into flesh, that the cheeks were swelled and bloated, and theincreasing stomach threw into shade the vast and massive chest whichrose above it.

  'None of thy scurrilous blusterings with me,' growled the giganticlandlord, in the gentle semi-roar of an insulted tiger; 'my wine is goodenough for a carcass which shall so soon soak the dust of thespoliarium.'

  'Croakest thou thus, old raven!' returned the gladiator, laughingscornfully; 'thou shalt live to hang thyself with despite when thouseest me win the palm crown; and when I get the purse at theamphitheatre, as I certainly shall, my first vow to Hercules shall be toforswear thee and thy vile potations evermore.'

  'Hear to him--hear to this modest Pyrgopolinices! He has certainlyserved under Bombochides Cluninstaridysarchides,' cried the host.'Sporus, Niger, Tetraides, he declares he shall win the purse from you.Why, by the gods! each of your muscles is strong enough to stifle allhis body, or I know nothing of the arena!'

  'Ha!' said the gladiator, coloring with rising fury, 'our lanista wouldtell a different story.'

  'What story could he tell against me, vain Lydon?' said Tetraides,frowning.

  'Or me, who have conquered in fifteen fights?' said the gigantic Niger,stalking up to the gladiator.

  'Or me?' grunted Sporus, with eyes of fire.

  'Tush!' said Lydon, folding his arms, and regarding his rivals with areckless air of defiance. 'The time of trial will soon come; keep yourvalor till then.'

  'Ay, do,' said the surly host; 'and if I press down my thumb to saveyou, may the Fates cut my thread!'

  'Your rope, you mean,' said Lydon, sneeringly: 'here is a sesterce tobuy one.'

  The Titan wine-vender seized the hand extended to him, and griped it inso stern a vice that the blood spirted from the fingers' ends over thegarments of the bystanders.

  They set up a savage laugh.

  'I will teach thee, young braggart, to play the Macedonian with me! Iam no puny Persian, I warrant thee! What, man! have I not foughttwenty years in the ring, and never lowered my arms once? And have Inot received the rod from the editor's own hand as a sign of victory,and as a grace to retirement on my laurels? And am I now to be lecturedby a boy?' So saying, he flung the hand from him in scorn.

  Without changing a muscle, but with the same smiling face with which hehad previously taunted mine host, did the gladiator brave the painfulgrasp he had undergone. But no sooner was his hand released, than,crouching for one moment as a wild cat crouches, you might see his hairbristle on his head and beard, and with a fierce and shrill yell hesprang on the throat of the giant, with an impetus that threw him, vastand sturdy as he was, from his balance--and down, with the crash of afalling rock, he fell--while over him fell also his ferocious foe.

  Our host, perhaps, had had no need of the rope so kindly recommended tohim by Lydon, had he remained three minutes longer in that position.But, summoned to his assistance by the noise of his fall, a woman, whohad hitherto kept in an inner apartment, rushed to the scene of battle.This new ally was in herself a match for the gladiator; she was tall,lean, and with arms that could give other than soft embraces. In fact,the gentle helpmate of Burbo the wine-seller had, like himself, foughtin the lists--nay under the emperor's eye. And Burbo himself--Burbo,the unconquered in the field, according to report, now and then yieldedthe palm to his soft Stratonice. This sweet creature no sooner saw theimminent peril that awaited her worse half, than without other weaponsthan those with which Nature had provided her, she darted upon theincumbent gladiator, and, clasping him round the waist with her long andsnakelike arms, lifted him by a sudden wrench from the body of herhusband, leaving only his hands still clinging to the throat of his foe.So have we seen a dog snatched by the hind legs from the strife with afallen rival in the arms of some envious groom; so have we seen one halfof him high in air--passive and offenceless--while the other half, head,teeth, eyes, claws, seemed buried and engulfed in the mangled andprostrate enemy. Meanwhile, the gladiators, lapped, and pampered, andglutted upon blood, crowded delightedly round the combatants--theirnostrils distended--their lips grinning--their eyes gloatingly fixed onthe bloody throat of the one and the indented talons of the other.

  'Habet! (he has got it!) habet!' cried they, with a sort of yell,rubbing their nervous hands.

  'Non habeo, ye liars; I have not got it!' shouted the host, as with amighty effort he wrenched himself from those deadly hands, and rose tohis feet, breathless, panting, lacerated, bloody; and fronting, withreeling eyes, the glaring look and grinning teeth of his baffled foe,now struggling (but struggling with disdain) in the gripe of the sturdyamazon.

  'Fair play!' cried the gladiators: 'one to one'; and, crowding roundLydon and the woman, they separated our pleasing host from his courteousguest.

  But Lydon, feeling ashamed at his present position, and endeavoring invain to shake off the grasp of the virago, slipped his hand into hisgirdle, and drew forth a short knife. So menacing was his look, sobrightly gleamed the blade, that Stratonice, who was used only to thatfashion of battle which we moderns call the pugilistic, started back inalarm.

  'O gods!' cried she, 'the ruffian!--he has concealed weapons! Is thatfair? Is that like a gentleman and a gladiator? No, indeed, I scornsuch fellows.' With that she contemptuously turned her back on thegladiator, and hastened to examine the condition of her husband.

  But he, as much inured to the constitutional exercises as an Englishbull-dog is to a contest with a more gentle antagonist, had alreadyrecovered himself. The purple hues receded from the crimson surface ofhis cheek, the veins of the forehead retired into their wonted size. Heshook himself with a complacent grunt, satisfied that he was
stillalive, and then looking at his foe from head to foot with an air of moreapprobation than he had ever bestowed upon him before:

  'By Castor!' said he, 'thou art a stronger fellow than I took thee for!I see thou art a man of merit and virtue; give me thy hand, my hero!'

  'Jolly old Burbo!' cried the gladiators, applauding, 'staunch to thebackbone. Give him thy hand, Lydon.'

  'Oh, to be sure,' said the gladiator: 'but now I have tasted his blood,I long to lap the whole.'

  'By Hercules!' returned the host, quite unmoved, 'that is the truegladiator feeling. Pollux! to think what good training may make a man;why, a beast could not be fiercer!'

  'A beast! O dullard! we beat the beasts hollow!' cried Tetraides.

  'Well, well said Stratonice, who was now employed in smoothing her hairand adjusting her dress, 'if ye are all good friends again, I recommendyou to be quiet and orderly; for some young noblemen, your patrons andbackers, have sent to say they will come here to pay you a visit: theywish to see you more at their ease than at the schools, before they makeup their bets on the great fight at the amphitheatre. So they alwayscome to my house for that purpose: they know we only receive the bestgladiators in Pompeii--our society is very select--praised be the gods!'

  'Yes,' continued Burbo, drinking off a bowl, or rather a pail of wine,'a man who has won my laurels can only encourage the brave. Lydon,drink, my boy; may you have an honorable old age like mine!'

  'Come here,' said Stratonice, drawing her husband to her affectionatelyby the ears, in that caress which Tibullus has so prettilydescribed--'Come here!'

  'Not so hard, she-wolf! thou art worse than the gladiator,' murmured thehuge jaws of Burbo.

  'Hist!' said she, whispering him; 'Calenus has just stole in, disguised,by the back way. I hope he has brought the sesterces.'

  'Ho! ho! I will join him, said Burbo; 'meanwhile, I say, keep a sharpeye on the cups--attend to the score. Let them not cheat thee, wife;they are heroes, to be sure, but then they are arrant rogues: Cacus wasnothing to them.'

  'Never fear me, fool!' was the conjugal reply; and Burbo, satisfied withthe dear assurance, strode through the apartment, and sought thepenetralia of his house.

  'So those soft patrons are coming to look at our muscles,' said Niger.'Who sent to previse thee of it, my mistress?'

  'Lepidus. He brings with him Clodius, the surest better in Pompeii, andthe young Greek, Glaucus.'

  'A wager on a wager,' cried Tetraides; 'Clodius bets on me, for twentysesterces! What say you, Lydon?'

  'He bets on me!' said Lydon.

  'No, on me!' grunted Sporus.

  'Dolts! do you think he would prefer any of you to Niger?' said theathletic, thus modestly naming himself.

  'Well, well,' said Stratonice, as she pierced a huge amphora for herguests, who had now seated themselves before one of the tables, 'greatmen and brave, as ye all think yourselves, which of you will fight theNumidian lion in case no malefactor should be found to deprive you ofthe option?'

  'I who have escaped your arms, stout Stratonice,' said Lydon, 'mightsafely, I think, encounter the lion.'

  'But tell me,' said Tetraides, 'where is that pretty young slave ofyours--the blind girl, with bright eyes? I have not seen her a longtime.'

  'Oh! she is too delicate for you, my son of Neptune,' said the hostess,'and too nice even for us, I think. We send her into the town to sellflowers and sing to the ladies: she makes us more money so than shewould by waiting on you. Besides, she has often other employments whichlie under the rose.'

  'Other employments!' said Niger; 'why, she is too young for them.'

  'Silence, beast!' said Stratonice; 'you think there is no play but theCorinthian. If Nydia were twice the age she is at present, she would beequally fit for Vesta--poor girl!'

  'But, hark ye, Stratonice,' said Lydon; 'how didst thou come by sogentle and delicate a slave? She were more meet for the handmaid ofsome rich matron of Rome than for thee.'

  'That is true,' returned Stratonice; 'and some day or other I shall makemy fortune by selling her. How came I by Nydia, thou askest.'

  'Ay!'

  'Why, thou seest, my slave Staphyla--thou rememberest Staphyla, Niger?'

  'Ay, a large-handed wench, with a face like a comic mask. How should Iforget her, by Pluto, whose handmaid she doubtless is at this moment!'

  'Tush, brute!--Well, Staphyla died one day, and a great loss she was tome, and I went into the market to buy me another slave. But, by thegods! they were all grown so dear since I had bought poor Staphyla, andmoney was so scarce, that I was about to leave the place in despair,when a merchant plucked me by the robe. "Mistress," said he, "dost thouwant a slave cheap I have a child to sell--a bargain. She is but little,and almost an infant, it is true; but she is quick and quiet, docile andclever, sings well, and is of good blood, I assure you." "Of whatcountry?" said I. "Thessalian." Now I knew the Thessalians were acuteand gentle; so I said I would see the girl. I found her just as you seeher now, scarcely smaller and scarcely younger in appearance. Shelooked patient and resigned enough, with her hands crossed on her bosom,and her eyes downcast. I asked the merchant his price: it was moderate,and I bought her at once. The merchant brought her to my house, anddisappeared in an instant. Well, my friends, guess my astonishment whenI found she was blind! Ha! ha! a clever fellow that merchant! I ran atonce to the magistrates, but the rogue was already gone from Pompeii. SoI was forced to go home in a very ill humor, I assure you; and the poorgirl felt the effects of it too. But it was not her fault that she wasblind, for she had been so from her birth. By degrees, we gotreconciled to our purchase. True, she had not the strength of Staphyla,and was of very little use in the house, but she could soon find her wayabout the town, as well as if she had the eyes of Argus; and when onemorning she brought us home a handful of sesterces, which she said shehad got from selling some flowers she had gathered in our poor littlegarden, we thought the gods had sent her to us. So from that time welet her go out as she likes, filling her basket with flowers, which shewreathes into garlands after the Thessalian fashion, which pleases thegallants; and the great people seem to take a fancy to her, for theyalways pay her more than they do any other flower-girl, and she bringsall of it home to us, which is more than any other slave would do. So Iwork for myself, but I shall soon afford from her earnings to buy me asecond Staphyla; doubtless, the Thessalian kidnapper had stolen theblind girl from gentle parents. Besides her skill in the garlands, shesings and plays on the cithara, which also brings money, and lately--butthat is a secret.'

  'That is a secret! What!' cried Lydon, 'art thou turned sphinx?'

  'Sphinx, no!--why sphinx?'

  'Cease thy gabble, good mistress, and bring us our meat--I am hungry,'said Sporus, impatiently.

  'And I, too,' echoed the grim Niger, whetting his knife on the palm ofhis hand.

  The amazon stalked away to the kitchen, and soon returned with a trayladen with large pieces of meat half-raw: for so, as now, did the heroesof the prize-fight imagine they best sustained their hardihood andferocity: they drew round the table with the eyes of famishedwolves--the meat vanished, the wine flowed. So leave we those importantpersonages of classic life to follow the steps of Burbo.