Oblong flames trembled in cuirasses of brass.Every kind of scintillation flashed from the gem-incrusted dishes.The crateras with their borders of convex mirrors multiplied and enlarged the images of things; the soldiers thronged around, looking at their reflections with amazement, and grimacing to make themselves laugh.They tossed the ivory stools and golden spatulas to one another across the tables.
They gulped down all the Greek wines in their leathern bottles, the Campanian wine enclosed in amphoras, the Cantabrian wines brought in casks, with the wines of the jujube, cinnamomum and lotus.There were pools of these on the ground that made the foot slip.The smoke of the meats ascended into the foliage with the vapour of the breath.
Simultaneously were heard the snapping of jaws, the noise of speech, songs, and cups, the crash of Campanian vases shivering into a thousand pieces, or the limpid sound of a large silver dish.
In proportion as their intoxication increased they more and more recalled the injustice of Carthage.The Republic, in fact, exhausted by the war, had allowed all the returning bands to accumulate in the town.Gisco, their general, had however been prudent enough to send them back severally in order to facilitate the liquidation of their pay, and the Council had believed that they would in the end consent to some reduction.But at present ill-will was caused by the inability to pay them.This debt was confused in the minds of the people with the 3200 Euboic talents exacted by Lutatius, and equally with Rome they were regarded as enemies to Carthage.The Mercenaries understood this, and their indignation found vent in threats and outbreaks.At last they demanded permission to assemble to celebrate one of their victories, and the peace party yielded, at the same time revenging themselves on Hamilcar who had so strongly upheld the war.It had been terminated notwithstanding all his efforts, so that, despairing of Carthage, he had entrusted the government of the Mercenaries to Gisco.
To appoint his palace for their reception was to draw upon him something of the hatred which was borne to them.Moreover, the expense must be excessive, and he would incur nearly the whole.
Proud of having brought the Republic to submit, the Mercenaries thought that they were at last about to return to their homes with the payment for their blood in the hoods of their cloaks.But as seen through the mists of intoxication, their fatigues seemed to them prodigious and but ill-rewarded.They showed one another their wounds, they told of their combats, their travels and the hunting in their native lands.They imitated the cries and the leaps of wild beasts.
Then came unclean wagers; they buried their heads in the amphoras and drank on without interruption, like thirsty dromedaries.A Lusitanian of gigantic stature ran over the tables, carrying a man in each hand at arm's length, and spitting out fire through his nostrils.Some Lacedaemonians, who had not taken off their cuirasses, were leaping with a heavy step.Some advanced like women, making obscene gestures;others stripped naked to fight amid the cups after the fashion of gladiators, and a company of Greeks danced around a vase whereon nymphs were to be seen, while a Negro tapped with an ox-bone on a brazen buckler.
Suddenly they heard a plaintive song, a song loud and soft, rising and falling in the air like the wing-beating of a wounded bird.
It was the voice of the slaves in the ergastulum.Some soldiers rose at a bound to release them and disappeared.
They returned, driving through the dust amid shouts, twenty men, distinguished by their greater paleness of face.Small black felt caps of conical shape covered their shaven heads; they all wore wooden shoes, and yet made a noise as of old iron like driving chariots.
They reached the avenue of cypress, where they were lost among the crowd of those questioning them.One of them remained apart, standing.
Through the rents in his tunic his shoulders could be seen striped with long scars.Drooping his chin, he looked round him with distrust, closing his eyelids somewhat against the dazzling light of the torches, but when he saw that none of the armed men were unfriendly to him, a great sigh escaped from his breast; he stammered, he sneered through the bright tears that bathed his face.At last he seized a brimming cantharus by its rings, raised it straight up into the air with his outstretched arms, from which his chains hung down, and then looking to heaven, and still holding the cup he said:
"Hail first to thee, Baal-Eschmoun, the deliverer, whom the people of my country call Aesculapius! and to you, genii of the fountains, light, and woods! and to you, ye gods hidden beneath the mountains and in the caverns of the earth! and to you, strong men in shining armour who have set me free!"Then he let fall the cup and related his history.He was called Spendius.The Carthaginians had taken him in the battle of Aeginusae, and he thanked the Mercenaries once more in Greek, Ligurian and Punic;he kissed their hands; finally, he congratulated them on the banquet, while expressing his surprise at not perceiving the cups of the Sacred Legion.These cups, which bore an emerald vine on each of their six golden faces, belonged to a corps composed exclusively of young patricians of the tallest stature.They were a privilege, almost a sacerdotal distinction, and accordingly nothing among the treasures of the Republic was more coveted by the Mercenaries.They detested the Legion on this account, and some of them had been known to risk their lives for the inconceivable pleasure of drinking out of these cups.
Accordingly they commanded that the cups should be brought.They were in the keeping of the Syssitia, companies of traders, who had a common table.The slaves returned.At that hour all the members of the Syssitia were asleep.
"Let them be awakened!" responded the Mercenaries.
