An equally dense crowd filled the elaothesium,[48] where the body was anointed with oil, and pressed through into the gymnasium,[49] where wrestling and discus-throwing were practised. One of the first laws of old Roman hygiene prescribed exercises of this kind before the bath. When the muscles had thus been thoroughly stretched, the bather wrapped himself in a light woollen garment and sat down to cool himself.
This quarter of an hour of cooling on the benches round the wrestling-hall was one of the pleasantest of the day. Nowhere else was the chat so humorous or so gracious; nowhere else were the events of the day discussed with so much wit and acumen. Here, Martial launched his most daring epigrams. Here, Parthenius, the chamberlain, retailed the most flagrant intrigues and richest scandals. Here the last triumph in the circus was discussed, the proceedings of fair Lycoris, the achievement of some great gladiator, the peculations of a provincial governor, the will of a childless senator,[50] the suits pending before the centumvirate, the last recitations, banquets, deaths—but whatever the whims and humors of the loungers might bring uppermost, it was always cast in a form of easy grace, and discussed with a peculiar sparkle of light humor.
On the day in question there was the usual flow of free talk in the luxuriously-furnished hall, and the marble statues, which looked down from their purple niches, might have heard, if they could, many a cutting speech and many a peal of noisy laughter.
One of the most reckless talkers, in a group that had gathered round Martial, was Clodianus; his rubicund face beamed with Dionysiac excitement. The poet, wrapped over his ears in his sheet, had just delivered himself of an epigram, in his most pungent style, on an incident in the life of a certain attorney-at-law.[51] This man, Sabellus by name, a perfect model of incapacity, was never chosen to conduct a case by any but people of the lowest class, and from the beginning of his career had never once been successful. At last he had gained his first cause. The matter in dispute had been a cart-horse belonging to a wagoner. His client had offered the triumphant advocate a honorarium paid in kind, and the worthy Sabellus, in the excess of his joy, was talking of the brilliant success of his efforts in every public place in Rome. The poet described with malicious glee, how Sabellus had already told the story of the great horse case eight times, and at each repetition held his head a little higher. Martial concluded with these improvised lines:
“All these jubilant airs our friend Sabellus
Founds on half a measure of meal and lentels,
Three half-pounds of frankincense and pepper,
Falernian chitterlings[52] and a Lucanian sausage,[53]
A Syrian jug of black and muddy liquor,
A jar of Libyan figs that might be fresher."[54]