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"They are landing. I pity the poor bride. Disgrace and shame! She is the child of a freeborn Roman citizen, though of Greek origin. And the father--"
"Where is Eugenes? I do not see him on the bridal ship."
"He is probably ashamed to show himself at the sacrifice of his child.
He went to Utica with his Sicilian guest on business long before the marriage, and after his return he will go with the Syracusan to Sicily.
It is really like the ancient sacrifice of the maidens which the Athenians were obliged to offer to the Minotaur. He gives up Eugenia, the daintiest jewel of Carthage."
"But they say she wanted to marry him; she loved the red giant. And he is not ugly; he is really handsome."
"He is a Barbarian. Curses on the Bar--oh, pardon me, my most gracious lord! May Saint Cyprian grant you a long life!"
He had hastily thrown himself on his knees before a half-drunken Vandal, who had nearly fallen over him, and without heeding the Roman's existence had already forced his way far to the front.
"Why, Laurus! The Barbarian surely ran against you, not you against him?" said Victor, helping his countryman to his feet again.
"No matter! Our masters are quick to lay their hands on the short-sword! May Orcus swallow the whole brood!"
CHAPTER XIII
Meanwhile the ships had reached the sh.o.r.e: they were moored in a broad front, side by side, greeted with a loud burst of music from pipes and drums in the balcony. Instantly all flung from their lofty prows step-ladders, covered with rich rugs. Slaves scattered flowers over the stairs, down which the bridal pair and their guests now descended to the land, while, at the same moment, by similar steps the spectators descended from the platforms. The two groups now formed in a festal procession upon the sh.o.r.e, A handsome though somewhat effeminate-looking young Vandal, with a winged hat on his fair locks and winged shoes on his feet, hurried constantly to and fro, waving an ivory staff twined with golden serpents. He seemed to be the manager of the entertainment.
"Who is that?" asked Victor. "Probably the master of the beautiful Aphrodite. He is nodding; and she smiles at him."
"Yes, that is Thrasabad," cried Laurus, angrily, clinching his fist, yet lowering his voice timidly. "May Saint Cyprian send scorpions into his bed! A Vandal writer! He is spoiling my trade. And I am the pupil of the great Luxorius."
"Pupil? I think you were--"
"His slave, then freedman. I have covered whole a.s.s's skins with copies of his verses."
"But not as his pupil?"
"You don't understand. The whole art of composition consists of a dozen little tricks, which are best learned by copying, because they are constantly recurring. And this Barbarian composes gratis! Of course he must be glad to have any one listen to him."
"He is leading the procession--as Mercury."
"Oh, the character just suits him. He understands how to steal. Only in doing so they kill the owners. 'Feud' is what these n.o.ble Germans call it."
"Look! he has given the signal; they are going to the Circus. Up! Let us follow."
Mercury held out his hand to Aphrodite to help her to land.
"Do I have you again?" he whispered tenderly. "I have missed you two long hours, fair one. Dearest, I love you fervently."
The girl smiled charmingly, raising her beautiful eyes to his with a grateful, even tender expression.
"That is the only reason I still live," she murmured, instantly lowering her long lashes sorrowfully.
"But so completely m.u.f.fled, my Aphrodite?"
"I am not your Aphrodite; I am your Glauke."
Hand in hand with her, Thrasabad now led the procession, which, not without occasional pauses, forced its way through the staring mult.i.tude.
As soon as the Circus was reached, numerous slaves showed the guests to seats, a.s.signed according to their rank or the regard in which they were held by the giver of the entertainment. The best were in the front row, originally intended for the Senators of Carthage; the structure on the southern side, the pulvinar, the imperial box which had been occupied by many a predecessor of Gelimer, remained empty. On the northern side, not directly opposite to the pulvinar, but considerably nearer the eastern end, the "Porta Pompae," there were projecting boxes for the bridegroom, his most intimate friends, and his most distinguished guests. Through this gate, in the midst of the stalls and sheds for the horses and chariots,--the "oppidum" and the "carceres,"--the circensian procession pa.s.sed before the beginning of the races. From this gate the course ran westward in a semi-circle. The victors made their exit through the "Porta Triumphalis." Extending the entire length from east to west, the "spina," a low wall richly adorned with small columns, dark-green marble obelisks, and numerous statuettes of victors in former races, divided the course into two parts like a barrier. At the eastern and western ends a goal "Meta" was erected, the former called the "Meta prima," the latter the "Meta secunda." The chariots drove into the arena from the southern and northern ends of the stables, through two gates in the east. Lastly, on the southern side, midway between the stables and the imperial box, partly concealed from view, was the sorrowful gate, the "Porta Libitinensis," through which the killed and wounded charioteers were borne out. The length of the course was about one hundred and ninety paces, the width one hundred and forty.
After the bustle had subsided, and the guests were all in their seats.
Mercury appeared in the princ.i.p.al box, which contained about twelve men and women, among them Modigisel and his beautiful companion. He bowed gracefully before the bridal pair, and began,--
"Allow me, divine brother, son of Semele--"
"Listen, my little man," interrupted the bridegroom. (Mercury measured a few inches less than Bacchus, but was considerably over six feet tall.) "I believe you have had too much wine, and especially the dark red, which I drank from the 'Ocean'; in short, you share my intoxication. Our brave father's name was Thrasamer, not Semele." The poetic Vandal, with a superior smile, exchanged glances with Aphrodite, who was also in the box, and continued,--
"Allow me, before the games begin, to read my epithalamium--"
"No, no, brother," interrupted the giant, hastily. "Better, far better not! The verses are--"
"Perhaps not smooth enough? What do you know about hiatus, and--"
"Nothing at all! But the sense--so far as I understood it--you were good enough to read it aloud to me three times--"
"Five times to me," said Aphrodite, softly, with a charming smile. "I entreated him to burn the verses. They are neither beautiful nor good.
So what is their use?"
"The meaning is so exaggerated," Thrasaric went on; "well, we may say shameless."
"They follow the best Roman models," said the poet, resentfully.
"Very probably. Perhaps that is the reason I was ashamed when I listened to them alone; I should not like, in the presence of these ladies--"
A shrill laugh reached his ears.
"You are laughing, Astarte?"
"Yes, handsome Thrasaric, I am laughing! You Germans are incorrigible shamefaced boys, with the limbs of giants."
The bride raised her eyes beseechingly to him. He did not see it.
"Shamefaced? I have seemed to myself very shameless. My part as a half-nude G.o.d is most distasteful to me. I shall be glad, Eugenia, when all this uproar is over."
She pressed his hand gratefully, whispering, "And to-morrow you will go with me to Hilda, won't you? She wished to congratulate me on the first day of my happiness."
"Certainly! And _her_ congratulations will bring you happiness. She is the most glorious of women. She, her marriage with Gibamund, first taught me to believe once more in women, love, and the happiness of wedded life. It was she who--What do you want, little man? Oh, the games! The guests! I was forgetting everything. Go on! Give the signal!
They must begin below."
Mercury stepped forward to the white marble railing of the box and waved his serpent wand twice in the air. The two gates at the right and left of the stables swung open: from the former a man, clad in blue, carrying a tuba, entered the arena; from the latter one dressed entirely in green; and two loud blasts announced the entrance of the circensian procession. In the brief pause before the appearance of the chariots Modigisel plucked the bridegroom lightly by his panther-skin.