Part 4 (2/2)

”Do I not have a perfect Greek p.r.o.nunciation?” said the lady, turning to Pratinas. ”It is impossible to carry on a polite conversation in Latin.”

”I can a.s.sure your ladys.h.i.+p,” said the h.e.l.lene, with still another bland smile, ”that your p.r.o.nunciation is something exceedingly remarkable.”

Valeria was pacified, and lay back submitting to her hairdressers[40], while Pratinas, who knew what kind of ”philosophy” appealed most to his fair patroness, read with a delicate yet altogether admirable voice, a number of sc.r.a.ps of erotic verse that he said friends had just sent on from Alexandria.

[40] _Ornatrices_.

”Oh! the shame to call himself a philosopher,” groaned the neglected Pisander to himself. ”If I believed in the old G.o.ds, I would invoke the Furies upon him.”

But Valeria was now in the best of spirits. ”By the two G.o.ddesses,”[41] she swore, ”what charming sentiments you Greeks can express. Now I think I look presentable, and can go around and see Papiria, and learn about that dreadful Sila.n.u.s affair. Tell Agias to bring in the cinnamon ointment. I will try that for a change. It is in the murrhine[42] vase in the other room.”

[41] Demeter and Persephone, a Greek woman's oath.

[42] A costly substance, probably porcelain agate.

Iasus the serving-boy stepped into the next apartment, and gave the order to one of his fellow slaves. A minute later there was a crash.

Arsinoe, who was without, screamed, and Semiramis, who thrust her head out the door, drew it back with a look of dismay.

”What has happened?” cried Valeria, startled and angry.

Into the room came Arsinoe, Iasus, and a second slave-boy, a well-favoured, intelligent looking young Greek of about seventeen. His ruddy cheeks had turned very pale, as had those of Iasus.

”What has happened?” thundered Valeria, in a tone that showed that a sorry scene was impending.

The slaves fell on their knees; cowered, in fact, on the rugs at the lady's feet.

”_A! A! A!_ Lady! Mercy!” they all began in a breath. ”The murrhina vase! It is broken!”

”Who broke it?” cried their mistress, casting lightning glances from one to another.

Now the truth had been, that while Agias was coming through a door covered with a curtain, carrying the vase, Iasus had carelessly blundered against him and caused the catastrophe. But there had been no other witnesses to the accident; and when Iasus saw that his mistress's anger would promptly descend on somebody, he had not the moral courage to take the consequences of his carelessness. What amounted to a frightful crime was committed in an instant.

”Agias stumbled and dropped the vase,” said Iasus, telling the truth, but not the whole truth.

”Send for Alfidius the _lorarius_,”[43] raged Valeria, who, with the promptness that characterizes a certain cla.s.s of women, jumped at a conclusion and remained henceforth obstinate. ”This shall not happen again! Oh! my vase! my vase! I shall never get another one like it! It was one of the spoils of Mithridates, and”--here her eye fell on Agias, cringing and protesting his innocence in a fearful agony.

[43] Whipper; many Roman houses had such a functionary, and he does not seem to have lacked employment.

”Stand up, boy! Stop whining! Of course you broke the vase. Who else had it? I will make you a lesson to all the slaves in my house. They need one badly. I will get another serving-boy who will be more careful.”

Agias was deathly pale; the beads of sweat stood out on his forehead; he grasped convulsively at the hem of his mistress's robe, and murmured wildly of ”mercy! mercy!” Pratinas stood back with his imperturbable smile on his face; and if he felt the least pity for his fellow-countryman, he did not show it.

”Alfidius awaits the mistress,” announced Semiramis, with trembling lips.

Into the room came a brutish, hard-featured, shock-headed man, with a large scar, caused by branding, on his forehead. He carried a short rope and scourge,[44]--a whip with a short handle to which were attached three long lashes, set at intervals with heavy bits of bronze. He cast one glance over the little group in the room, and his dull piglike eyes seemed to light up with a fierce glee, as he comprehended the situation.

[44] _Flagellum_.

”What does your ladys.h.i.+p wish?” he growled.

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