Neæra. A Tale of Ancient Rome. Graham John William

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СКАЧАТЬ which intervened, to the house of one Apicius, on the Palatine, the most fashionable quarter in Rome, and finally to become almost the exclusive property of the emperors.

      He alighted in a courtyard, whereon opened the magnificent entrance of a very large and imposing mansion. He went in. The lofty interior gleamed with rich marbles and gilding, and the air was laden with the scent of the perfumed fountain which twinkled and sparkled in the shaft of light, descending from the blue sunny sky through the square opening in the centre of the roof. Beyond was the vista of the entire length of the house, through its columns and peristyle to a portico and ornamental garden beyond. The sumptuous magnificence which met the eye at every turn, the priceless statuary, the frescoes on every wall, the rare, polished, carved wood and stone, the ivory, gilding, and tapestries, betokened the lavish extravagance of vast wealth. Crossing the spotless floor of marble, Afer was ushered into a reception room of the same rich character, where lounged or stood some half dozen guests engaged in conversation. Our knight’s attire, though of irreproachable taste and fashion, was modest compared with the superlative richness displayed by some of those he now rubbed against.

      Charinus was a dandy of the first water, whose glorious garments, oppressive perfumes, smooth, well-tended, effeminately handsome face and languid hauteur, at once betrayed his disposition and ambition. Flaccus was a dandy, whose still youthful and ambitious mind animated a physical organisation long since bereft of vigour and beauty. Art did its best to disguise the ruthless blight of time, and age put a good face on its impotence, whilst it was being racked with follies and excesses which belonged to its grandchildren. So the withered old trunk stuck itself over with green boughs, seeking to hide its sapless rottenness, but succeeding only in rousing the laughter of men.

      In the puffy face, and uncertain wavering eyes of Pansa, together with his nervous, trembling fingers, could be seen the demon of drunkenness; whilst his seat apart, and his sullen, dejected, downcast looks, marked a nightmare depression of spirits, during a brief separation from the wine cup.

      Torquatus, unlike Flaccus, retained no foolish vanity in his advanced years, and his simple attire bore a strong contrast to the rest. Curiosity might be awakened as to the reason why he was included in the company present, for peevish, snappish acidity was plain as written symbols in his prying, sharp, small eyes, in his hard, withered, wrinkled face, and thin, sourly down-drawn lips. To the host, in the middle of these, Afer proceeded to pay his respects. Unheedful, unanswering to the chatter around his chair, the lord of the house sat absorbed in his reflections. He leant his head first on one hand and then on the other, shifting continuously and restlessly, as if a prey to uneasy thoughts. His face was pale, and his brows slightly contracted. Ever and anon, when his attention was desired to hear something of interest, he gave a nod, or glimmering smile, rather weary and ghastly than otherwise. His dress was the envy even of the dandies, his guests; for his ‘synthesis,’ or loose upper garment, which all wore, as more convenient for table than the toga, was made of silk – a fabric, at that time, in Rome, of such extravagant cost, as to be forbidden by imperial edict only a few years before the date of this story. The appearance of Afer before him roused him from his reverie.

      ‘Welcome, my friend,’ said he, extending his hand, and shaking himself, as if to clear away all thoughts that interfered with his duties as host; ‘welcome to my poor house!’

      ‘I trust you marked the poverty as you came through,’ rasped the voice of Torquatus, the sour, ever on the watch to vent a sneer.

      ‘I came hastily to greet Apicius, our generous host,’ returned Afer, as he exchanged courtesies with the smiling guests, all of whom he knew.

      ‘And faster still to eat his dinner,’ added the old man.

      ‘Ho! ho! Torquatus, I see you are in your best humour,’ cried Apicius, joining in the laugh, with more vivacity and briskness in his appearance.

      ‘Who arrived first to his appointment, Apicius?’ inquired Afer.

      ‘When my slave called me to the room, I found Torquatus here alone to greet me,’ replied the host.

      ‘Then has Torquatus the best right to the best part of your dinner, noble host, since his eagerness to eat it outstripped us all. Hungry Torquatus!’

      Loud laughter from all drowned the snarling reply of the old man, but his scowling eyes spoke volumes.

      ‘Thou hast it fairly,’ said Apicius, when the merriment ceased; ‘but don’t be ill-humoured, Torquatus – it so ill becomes thee.’

      The juvenile mirth of Flaccus shook his sides at this, and dislocated some of the enamel on his face; and ere the amusement had subsided, the heavy purple curtain of the doorway was drawn aside to admit another comer, a man in the prime of his age, of tall commanding presence and handsome countenance. He bestowed one rapid glance upon the occupants of the room, and ere their eyes, in turn, were drawn towards him, his lips were wreathed in a bland smile.

      ‘The Prefect Sejanus!’ announced the slave at the door.

      As the name of the most powerful man in Rome fell on the ears of the company, it banished the laughter from their lips. Following the example of their host, they pressed around the new arrival, eager to salute him. Flaccus, the elderly dandy, who was a small man, tried to strain himself, like the frog in the fable, into an individual of imposing appearance. Torquatus posed himself into a caricature of a philosopher of elevated and dignified severity. Even the nerveless Pansa elevated his tremulous eyes, and rose from his chair. But when the first greetings were over, the conversation soon fell back once more into a current of liveliness and jest, under the influence of the imperial minister’s good humour and indiscriminate affability.

      ‘Come, friends, it is time to get to table,’ said Apicius; ‘and for the laggards who are yet absent, let them abide by what their unpunctuality may bring them. Ha! here comes one. Caius, I cannot enter my dinner as an equal attraction to love; but yet, for once – ’

      ‘What is the finest feast to a man in love! Heed him not, Martialis,’ said Sejanus, grasping the hand of the newcomer. The latter, a young man of about thirty, smiled in response to a shower of badinage which followed this initiative, until a slave entered and announced the feast in readiness to be served.

      ‘Come, then!’ cried the host; ‘we lack one, but he is ever behind – ’tis part of his religion. Let him take the empty place when he thinks fit.’ So saying, he took Sejanus, as his most distinguished guest, by the hand, and, followed by the others, led the way to the dining apartment, where a table, blazing with an equipage of precious metal, awaited them.

      It is no purpose of these pages to enter into a detailed description of the extravagance, the innumerable and curious dishes, of a Roman banquet of the first order. Antiquaries have already done so in accounts which are easily to be met with. The recital of the ingenuity, invention, and wealth lavished on a meal is extraordinary to modern measurement of luxury and extravagance. Fish, fowl, and beast were brought from the ends of the earth, in order that jaded appetites might nibble at them, or at some particular part of them, dressed by a chef of the highest art; and, in the present instance, nothing was likely to be lacking from the feast of one who won historic fame as a gourmand.

      Nor was the entertainment deemed sufficient of itself, but it must be served in an apartment of splendour equal to the occasion. That of Apicius did not aspire to the novelty and outlay brought to bear on the saloon of Nero’s golden house of a few years later, which was constructed like a theatre, with scenes which changed at every course. But, for a private individual, of a period just launching fairly into degraded luxury, his dining-room was, perhaps, the most magnificent in the city.

      Along with the cunning of workers in ivory and precious metals, the hand of the painter and sculptor had adorned it with the best children of their genius. СКАЧАТЬ