During the meal an intermezzo had now and then interrupted the eager conversation. Black-haired girls from Gades and Hispalis[175] had come in, dancing to the cadence of castanets[176] and cymbals; flute-players, singers and reciters had given highly-applauded evidence of their talents. But now, when the business of eating was over and the commissatio, as it was called, the drinking in short, was about to begin, as was hinted by the distribution to the guests of fresh wreaths and of perfumed oils, a buffoon or jester[177] made his appearance, and soon filled the hall with Homeric laughter. His small and muscular form was clothed in gaily-colored scraps of raiment, and his face was painted in strong colors. Entering the room with a hop, skip and jump, he performed a series of somersaults with great skill; then leaping high over the guests’ heads, actually on to the table, he placed himself in front of Lycoris and began thus in a high, shrill voice:
“Highly-esteemed friends of this illustrious house, now that your empty stomachs are duly replenished your minds too are to be no less delightfully satisfied. I offer you the feast of self-knowledge; to each one of you here I will shortly and plainly tell your fortune. If I appear to you over-bold, attribute it to the functions of my office; for audacity is my vocation, as it is that of the most honored Martial.”
A storm of applause rang through the banqueting-hall, and Martial himself even laughed heartily.
“Capital, capital!” he exclaimed to the little man. “Your beginning is admirable and promises much,” and he stroked his grizzled beard with much complacency; the jester bowed and went on with his privileged impertinences. He flung some epigrammatic and pointed remark at one and another of the company, and was each time rewarded by more or less eager applause. When he came round to the young provincial, he grinned with vicious impudence.
“Oh, noble vestal virgin!” he exclaimed, holding his hand before his face in affected coyness. “How much a hundred weight does propriety cost in Trajectum?”
His former jests had been happier and more pointed, but not one had been so readily taken; the company laughed so immoderately, that the buffoon had some difficulty in making himself heard again. Aurelius, though he was disgusted with the fellow, had discretion and tact enough not to draw attention to himself; he laughed and applauded as heartily as any one. Not so, however, Herodianus, his freedman, who reclined at the lower end of the table and had given himself up to silent and unlimited enjoyment of the Caecubum.
“What, you foul-mouthed scoundrel!” he exclaimed in a voice of thunder. “Who are you scoffing at? My dear friend Aurelius compared to a woman! Go home, and let your mother teach you manners.”
The company were in so jovial a mood, that they at once turned this interference into account. When the Batavian was about to reprove Herodianus, he was talked down, while the indignant freedman was spurred on by half-ironical appeals and challenges.
“Let him alone,” said the captain of the guard: “He will serve the jester’s turn well enough.”
“Aye, that he will!” exclaimed another. “Only look at him knitting his brows. Is not he just like the Silenus in Stephanus’ dining-hall?”