The Tour. Louis Couperus

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СКАЧАТЬ in the sea ... and we shall never recover her exquisite body, to embalm it....”

      “In any case she has disappeared, my dear nephew,” said Uncle Catullus, trying to console him. “Let us think of her no more. By all the gods, try to forget her: she had thick ankles and large feet.... Lucius, do be sensible at last! Enjoy yourself during this interesting tour. We have had a morning more interesting than any that we ever had at Rome. We have seen an ideal system of scavenging, we have heard philosophical and religious truths and we have seen the mummy of Alexander! I’ve really received too many new impressions. My brains are soaked like an overfull sponge: they can contain no more this morning. That sated condition of the head makes my stomach feel empty, as empty as my pocket when your liberality has forgotten to line it for your old uncle. My dear Lucius, when travelling one must be sparing ... of one’s powers. I suggest to our indefatigable guide that we should go home and see if, in our absence, our trusty cook has remembered that, though life is a dream, even the dead and therefore all the more the living have to be fed. The dead are sustained with oil, honey and fruit: I am curious to see what our cook’s pious thoughts have prepared to-day for the living.”

      The procession trotted home through the gardens of Bruchium, the palace quarter, and along the Hippodrome to Master Ghizla’s great diversorium, or guest-house. It stood near the Canopian gate in an oval garden, behind a hedge of tall cactuses; the door opened between two figures of Hermes. Here sat the janitor, or porter; and the travellers were struck by the fact that a winged head of Hermes, in marble, crowned the marble architrave of the door. Caducei, or Hermes’-wands, with winding snakes, were carved on the pilasters of the door; for the diversorium was dedicated to Hermes and known in the quarter as the Hermes House.

      The janitor rose and bowed, with his hands stretched to the ground. Master Ghizla also, standing beside a statue of Hermes in the middle of his garden, bowed in this fashion, bending low, with his hands stretched groundwards.

      The procession trotted in, the travellers alighted, but Caleb sat his mare, bowed gracefully and, stooping forward, whispered in Lucius’ ear:

      “After you have rested, my lord, I will take you whither you please, I will procure you whatsoever you please ... for your lordship’s pleasure and gratification. Whithersoever you please and whatsoever you please.... I wish you good luck at your repast.”

      With that he threw the mare on her haunches, stood up in the stirrups, waved his burnous, uttered a cry and rode away, in a cloud of graceful gestures.

      The diversorium consisted of several low buildings. It harboured Arabian and Phœnician merchants, who looked out curiously, squatting on mats or lying at their meal, served by black slaves. But Master Ghizla led his “princely guests” to their own suites; and Vettius and Rufus received the travellers on the threshold. They had worked to good purpose, conveying furniture, boxes and packing-cases on camels and mules. A Babylonian carpet lay upon the floor; the travellers’ own beds were ready; in the corners of Lucius’ bedroom stood bronze and marble statues, for no important Roman with any pretension to taste travelled without carrying a few of his treasures with him; and perfumes burned before the statues. There were curtains hanging from rings; and garments lay ready, neatly folded and strewn with fragrant flowers, on long, low, sycamore-wood tables. There were metal mirrors on bronze pedestals; all the brushes, tweezers and unguent-sticks, in gold adorned with agates, lay spread on bronze tables; all the jars, pots and vases essential to the toilet stood filled with cosmetics, ointments and perfumes. All this furniture and upholstery, all these useful and artistic possessions had been brought over from the ship.

      “My diversorium boasts every possible comfort, my lord, and all the latest conveniences,” bragged Ghizla, “which visitors like your lordship demand in these days.”

      He lifted a curtain beside Lucius’ couch: there was in fact a marble basin with taps, under a canopy.

      “And here,” said Master Ghizla, “is your triclinium.”

      The dining-room which Master Ghizla described by this high-sounding name was a pleasant, spacious, airy apartment, with sun-blinds between pillars; and, as Lucius entered, he was greeted with the music of harps. For all the wealthy young Roman’s “family” were drawn up there in two rows, awaiting his arrival: Vettius and Rufus and Tarrar, the little black slave; all his slaves, male and female, all the great household without which no distinguished Roman thought it possible to live, even—indeed especially—when travelling. And, amid the female slaves, stood the Greek slave from Cos, Cora, with two other harpists; and they drew long, descending cords from their strings, while Cora sang a short song of welcome to the gracious master. Incense burned on dishes; two S-shaped couches coiled round a long, low table covered with a yellow-and-white cloth and already laid with yellow-and-white crockery and gleaming gold plate. A little fountain of verbena-water played in the middle of a bowl filled with blue lotus.

      Lucius assured Vettius and Rufus that he was really pleased; indeed it was as though he were at home. Then, because Uncle Catullus said that he was starving, he invited his uncle and parasite, who had so often diverted him with a merry jest, to lie down, lay down himself and motioned Thrasyllus, his friend and tutor, to a stool by his side, for, though Thrasyllus shared his pupil’s meals, as a freedman he remained the inferior and ate seated. Tarrar and three girl-slaves waited, while Cora and the two harpists struck a soft melody from their strings or danced a little ballet.

      Uncle Catullus was glad to have neither oysters nor roast peacock set before him: Lucius’ cook had surpassed himself, in this first exotic repast, with a first course of peppered water-melon in sugared wine-sauce, with which was served an Egyptian spiced bread, named caces; next, young tunnies, surrounded by savoury eggs, stuffed olives and finely chopped coxcombs; next, a sucking-pig served on bread-fruit and cucumbers; lastly, a honey-tart, covered with a cream custard containing stoned dates and cinnamon. They had the celebrated Mareotis wine, thick as ink and purple as molten wax, poured by Master Ghizla himself out of a jar still warm from the sun; and there was the topaz-yellow Ethiopian liqueur of Napata, which he dripped drop by drop into goblets filled with snow and which spread an aroma as of roses steeped in silphium.

      Uncle Catullus ate his fill and Lucius too did honour to the meal, however much his heart still suffered and craved, while Thrasyllus was moderate as always. Then a legitimate drowsiness overcame the three travellers and they withdrew behind their curtains, to rest.

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