“Six denarii!” exclaimed Lupercus. “That is too dear for me. I have to be saving with my money.”
“And I must be saving with my books.”
“It is not every one, who knows how to be obliging!”
“Nay, do not give up all hope,” retorted the epigrammatist scornfully. “Make your wants known at all the street-corners,[162] and perhaps some costermonger[163] will lend you a copy.”
“Why is Martial so hard upon him?” asked Aurelius of the praetorian guardsman. “This Lupercus seems to be in narrow circumstances.”
“Ha, ha!” laughed Norbanus. “With an income of two hundred thousand sesterces....”
“Impossible! how can a man be at once so rich and so mean?”
“You are in Rome, Aurelius—do not forget that you are in Rome. Here extremes meet; here everything is possible, even the impossible.”
It was now growing dusk, and in a few minutes hundreds of costly bronze lamps were lighted, some hanging in candelabra from the ceiling, some elegantly arranged round the pilasters and columns. Indeed it was not till this moment, that the banquet really assumed the aspect intended by the artistic and extravagant imagination of the hostess. The beaten silver of the massive bowls[164] and platters gleamed brightly under the wreaths of flowers and garlands of foliage, while the huge wine-jars and costly Murrhine vases,[165] the jovial and purpled faces of the guests, the splendid dresses, the pearls and gems—all were doubly effective under the artificial light.
One costly delicacy was followed by another; all the productions of the remotest ends of the earth met at the banquet of Lycoris. Fish from the Atlantic ocean, Muraenae from Lake Lucrinus, Guinea-fowls from Numidia,[166] young kids from the province of Thesprotis[167] in Epirus, pheasants from the Caspian Sea,[168] Egyptian dates,[169] dainty cakes[170] from Picenum, figs from Chios,[171] pistachio nuts[172] from Palestine—were all here of the choicest quality and elaborately prepared. Euphemus,[173] Caesar’s own head-cook, could have done no more. Nor could anything be more perfect, than the grace with which the handsomely-dressed slaves offered each dainty on long slices of bread. After each dish had gone round, little boys with wings brought in magnificent onyx jars filled with perfumed water, which they poured over the hands of the guests. The long flowing hair of a female slave[174] served to dry them, in the place of the more usual linen or asbestos napkin. In such trifles as these Lycoris loved to be original.