The banquet followed, with all that could gratify the eye, the ear, the nostril, or the palate. The board blazed with lights, redoubled by the glare of gold and crystal. Flowers, perfumes, incense, streamed over all, till the whole atmosphere was charged with voluptuous sweetness. The softest music breathed from the instruments of concealed performers. The rarest wines flowed like water. And flashing eyes, and wreathed smiles, and bare arms, and bare bosoms, and most voluptuous forms, decked to inflame the senses of the coldest, were prodigal of charms and soft abandonment.

No modest pen may describe the orgies that ensued,-the drunkenness, the l.u.s.t, the frantic mirth, the unnatural mad revelry. There was but one at that banquet, who, although he drank more deeply, rioted more sensually, laughed more loudly, sang more wildly, than any of the guests, was yet as cool amid that terrible scene of excitement, as in the council chamber, as on the battle field.

His sallow face flushed not; his hard clear eye swam not languidly, nor danced with intoxication; his voice quivered not; his pulse was as slow, as even as its wont. That man's frame, like his soul, was of trebly tempered steel.

Had Catiline not been the worst, he had been the greatest of Romans.

But his race in Rome was now nearly ended. The water-clocks announced the fifth hour; and leaving the more private triclinium, in which the ringleaders alone had feasted, followed by his guests,-who were flushed, reeling, and half frenzied,-with a steady step, a cold eye, and a presence like that of Mars himself, the Arch Traitor entered the great open hall, wherein three hundred of his clients, armed sumptuously in the style of legionary hors.e.m.e.n, had banqueted magnificently, though they had stopped short of the verge of excess.

All rose to their feet, as Catiline entered, hushed in dread expectation.

He stood for one moment, gazing on his adherents, tried veterans every man of them, case-hardened in the furnace of Sylla's fiery discipline, with proud confidence and triumph in his eye; and then addressed them in clear high tones, piercing as those of an adamantine trumpet.

"Since," he said, "it is permitted to us neither to live in Rome securely, nor to die in Rome honorably, I go forth-will you follow me?"

And, with an unanimous cry, as it had been the voice of one man, they answered,

"To the death, Catiline!"

"I go forth, harming no one, hating no one, fearing no one! Guiltless of all, but of loving the people! Goaded to ruin by the proud patricians, injured, insulted, well nigh maddened, I go forth to seek, not power nor revenge, but innocence and safety. If they will leave me peace, the lamb shall be less gentle; if they will drive me into war, the famished lion shall be tamer. Soldiers of Sylla, will you have Sylla's friend in peace for your guardian, in war for your captain?"

And again, in one tumultuous shout, they replied, "In peace, or in war, through life, and unto death, Catiline!"

"Behold, then, your Eagle!"-and, with the word, he s.n.a.t.c.hed from a marble slab on which it lay, covered by tapestry, the silver bird of Mars, hovering with expanded wings over a bannered staff, and brandished it on high, in triumph. "Behold your standard, your omen, and your G.o.d! Swear, that it shall shine yet again above Rome's Capitol!"

Every sword flashed from its scabbard, every knee was bent; and kneeling, with the bright blades all pointed like concentric sunbeams toward that b.l.o.o.d.y idol, in deep emotion, and deep awe, they swore to be true to the Eagle, traitors to Rome, parricides to their country.

"One cup of wine, and then to horse, and to glory!"

The goblets were brimmed with the liquid madness; they were quaffed to the very dregs; they clanged empty upon the marble floor.

Ten minutes more, and the hall was deserted; and mounted on proud horses, brought suddenly together, by a perfect combination of time and place, with the broad steel heads of their javelins sparkling in the moonbeams, and the renowned eagle poised with bright wings above them, the escort of the Roman Traitor rode through the city streets, at midnight, audacious, in full military pomp, in ordered files, with a cavalry clarion timing their steady march-rode unresisted through the city gates, under the eyes of a Roman cohort, to try the fortunes of civil war in the provinces, frustrate of ma.s.sacre and conflagration in the capitol.

Cicero knew it, and rejoiced; and when he cried aloud on the following day, "ABIIT, EXCESSIT, EVASIT, ERUPIT-He hath departed, he hath stolen out, he hath gone from among us, he hath burst forth into war"-his great heart thrilled, and his voice quivered, with prophetic joy and conscious triumph. He felt even then that he had "SAVED HIS COUNTRY."

CHAPTER VII

THE AMBa.s.sADORS.

Give first admittance to th' amba.s.sadors.

HAMLET.

It wanted a short time of noon, on a fine bracing day in the latter end of November.

Something more than a fortnight had elapsed since the flight of Catiline; and, as no further discoveries had been made, nor any tumults or disturbances arisen in the city, men had returned to their former avocations, and had for the most part forgotten already the circ.u.mstances, which had a little while before convulsed the public mind with fear or favor.

No certain tidings had been received, or, if received, divulged to the people, of Catiline's proceedings; it being only known that he had tarried for a few days at the country-house of Caius Flaminius Flamma, near to Arretium, where he was believed to be amusing himself with boar-hunting.

On the other hand, the letters of justification, and complaint against Cicero, had been shewn to their friends by all those who had received them, all men of character and weight; and their contents had thus gained great publicity.

The consequence of this was, naturally enough, that the friends and favorers of the conspiracy, acting with singular wisdom and foresight, studiously affected the utmost moderation and humility of bearing, while complaining every where of the injustice done to Catiline, and of the false suspicions maliciously cast on many estimable individuals, by the low-born and ambitious person who was temporarily at the head of the state.

The friends of Cicero and the republic, on the contrary, lay on their oars, in breathless expectation of some new occurrence, which should confirm the public mind, and approve their own conduct; well aware that much time could not elapse before Catiline would be heard of at the head of an army.

In the meantime, the city wore its wonted aspect; men bought and sold, and toiled or sported; and women smiled and sighed, flaunted and wantoned in the streets, as if, a few short days before, they had not been wringing their hands in terror, dissolved in tears, and speechless from dismay.

It was a market day, and the forum was crowded almost to overflowing. The country people had flocked in, as usual, to sell the produce of their farms; and their wagons stood here and there laden with seasonable fruits, cheeses, and jars of wine, pigeons in wicker cages, fresh herbs, and such like articles of traffic. Many had brought their wives, sun-burned, black-haired and black-eyed, from their villas in the Latin or Sabine country, to purchase city luxuries. Many had come to have their lawsuits decided; many to crave justice against their superiors from the Tribunes of the people; many to get their wills registered, to pay or borrow money, and to transact that sort of business, for which the day was set aside.

Nor were the townsmen absent from the gay scene; for to them the _nundinae_, or market days, were holydays, in which the courts of law were shut, and the offices closed to them, at least, although open to the rural citizens, for the despatch of business.

The members of the city tribes crowded therefore to the forum many of these too accompanied by their women, to buy provisions, to ask for news from the country, and to stare at the uncouth and st.u.r.dy forms of the farmers, or admire the black eyes and merry faces of the country la.s.ses.

It was a lively and gay scene; the bankers' shops, distinguished by the golden shields of the Samnites, suspended from the lintels of their doors, were thronged with money-changers, and alive with the hum of traffic.

Ever and anon some curule magistrate, in his fringed toga, with his lictors, in number proportioned to his rank, would come sweeping through the dense crowd; or some plebeian officer, with his ushers and beadles; or, before whom the ranks of the mult.i.tude would open of their own accord and bow reverentially, some white-stoled vestal virgin, with her fair features closely veiled from profane eyes, the sacred fillets on her head, and her lictor following her dainty step with his shouldered fasces.

Street musicians there were also, and shows of various kinds, about which the lower orders of the people collected eagerly; and, here and there, among the white stoles and gayly colored shawls of the matrons and maidens, might be seen the flowered togas and showy head-dresses of those unfortunate girls, many of them rare specimens of female beauty, whose character precluded them from wearing the attire of their own s.e.x.

"Ha! Fabius Sanga, whither thou in such haste through the crowd?" cried a fine manly voice, to a patrician of middle age who was forcing his way hurriedly among the jostling mob, near to the steps of the Comitium, or building appropriated to the reception of amba.s.sadors.

The person thus addressed turned his head quickly, though without slackening his speed.

"Ah! is it thou, Arvina? Come with me, thou art young and strong; give me thy arm, and help me through this concourse."

"Willingly," replied the young man. "But why are you in such haste?" he continued, as he joined him; "you can have no business here to-day."

"Aye! but I have, my Paullus. I am the patron to these Gallic amba.s.sadors, who have come hither to crave relief from the Senate for their people.

They must receive their answer in the Comitium to-day; and I fear me much, I am late."

"Ah! by the G.o.ds! I saw them on that day they entered the city. Right stout and martial barbarians! What is their plea? will they succeed?"

"I fear not," answered Sanga, "They are too poor. Senatorial relief must be bought nowadays. The longest purse is the most righteous cause! Their case is a hard one, too. Their nation is oppressed with debt, both private and public; they have been faithful allies to the state, and served it well in war, and now seek remission of some grievous tributes. But what shall we say? They are poor-barbarians-their aid not needed now by the republic-and, as you know, my Paullus, justice is sold now in Rome, like silk, for its weight in gold!"

"The more shame!" answered Paullus. "It was not by such practices, that our fathers built up this grand edifice of the republic."

"Riches have done it, Paullus! Riches and Commerce! While we had many tillers of the ground, and few merchants, we were brave in the field, and just at home!"

"Think you, then, that the spirit of commerce is averse to justice, and bravery, and freedom?"

"No, I do not think it, Arvina, I know it!" answered Fabius Sanga, who, with the truth and candor of a patrician of Rome's olden school, possessed, and that justly, much repute for wisdom and foresight. "All mercantile communities are base communities. Look at Tyre, in old times!

Look at Carthage, in our grandfathers' days! at Corinth in our own!

Merchants are never patriots! and rich men seldom; unless they be landholders! But see, see, there are my clients, descending the steps of the Comitium! By all the G.o.ds! I am too late! their audience is ended!

Now, by Themis, the G.o.ddess of justice! will they deem me also venal!"