Part 20 (1/2)

The good host did not think Agias anything more by his dress than a common slave, and saw no need of excessive politeness.

Agias noticed that he was expected to join the other drinkers around the centre table.

”_Eho_, mine host!” cried he, letting the fire give one glint on a gold piece. ”Can't you give me a seat at the other end of the room? I don't know these good people, and they won't thank me for thrusting myself on them.”

”Certainly, certainly,” exclaimed the landlord, all condescension.

”There is a gentleman from Rome drinking by himself at that table over there. Perhaps he will not object.”

Now was the crisis. Agias had seen Phaon many times with Lucius Ahen.o.barbus; but he was reasonably certain that the freedman had never degraded himself by taking any notice of the numerous slaves of Lentulus's household. Without waiting for the host to continue, he hastened over to the farther table, and exclaimed with all the effrontery at his command:--

”_Hem!_ Phaon; don't you remember an old friend?”

The freedman for once was completely off his guard. He started up, stared at Agias, and began to mutter excuses for a very short memory.

”Well, well,” cried Agias. ”You _have_ a poor recollection of faces!

Don't you remember how Pratinas took you to the Big Eagle restaurant, down on the Vicus Jugarius, on the last Calends, and how you met me there, and what good Lesbian and Chian wine there was? None of your weak, sickening Italian stuff! Surely you remember Cleombrotus, from whom you won four hundred sesterces.”

Phaon, who remembered the tavern, a visit, and winning four hundred sesterces at one time or another, tried to make himself believe that he won them from a young man, like the one before him, and that his name was Cleombrotus.

”Um! Yes, of course,” he faltered. ”I'm very glad to see you. What brings you here?”

”Business, business,” complained Agias; ”my master's a grain merchant with dealings at Puteoli, and he has sent me thither, to make some payments.” Phaon p.r.i.c.ked up his ears. ”The Via Appia is more direct, but there is less chance of robbers by the Via Praenestina.”

”I hope your master can trust you not to lighten his pouch on the way,” remarked Phaon.

”Well,” chuckled Agias, ”he'll have to take his risk. If it's lost on the road, why, highwaymen stripped me. It is one of the fortunes of trade.” Phaon was fully convinced that here was a fine chance to do some picking on his own account.

”Doubtless,” he began, ”you are not in such haste that you cannot enjoy one of those thrushes that sheep of a landlord is roasting for me. _Phui!_ What a nasty place to have one's horse give out in. You will give me at least a little company to pa.s.s the time?”

Agias affected reluctance; then as the host brought up the birds, savory and hot, on an earthen platter, he gracefully accepted the invitation. The thrushes and the rest of the bill of fare, bacon, sweet nut-flavoured oil, bread, and the cheap wine of the Campagna were not unwelcome, though Phaon cursed the coa.r.s.e food roundly. Then, when hunger had begun to yield, Phaon suggested that Cleombrotus ”try to secure revenge for his losses on the Calends”; and Agias, nothing loth, replied that he did not wish to risk a great sum; but if a denarius were worth playing for, there was no objection to venturing a few casts, and ”he would ask the host to bring them the gaming implements.”

So the landlord brought dice and dice boxes, and Phaon--who had come to the conclusion that he had to deal with a light-headed b.u.mpkin, who represented merely so much fair plunder--began to play with a careless heart. The landlord brought more and more flagons of wine, wine that was mixed with little water and was consequently very heady. But the game--with some veering of fortune--went the freedman's way. He won a denarius; then another; then a third; lost a fourth time; won back everything and five denarii more; and finally his opponent, heated with play, consented to stake two gold pieces.

”What did you say a minute ago to the landlord?” muttered Phaon, feeling that the undiluted liquor was getting the best of him. ”This wine is very strong. It makes my head ache.”

”_Phy!_” retorted Agias. ”Who complains of good liquor? I only told the host to set another lamp near us. Shall we play again?”

”By Zeus!” exclaimed the delighted freedman. ”Here I have cast four 'sixes' once more.” And again he drained the beaker.

”_Vah!_” sniffed Agias. ”Luck will turn at last. Let us play for real stakes. More wine, mine host! I will put down ten philippi. This will be worth winning or losing.”

”As you say,” gleefully chuckled Phaon, tossing the gold on the table.

”Yes, more wine, I say too. One always enjoys play when his temples are all athrob.”

Agias quietly reached over, took up his opponent's dice box, and rattled it, and appeared inspecting and fingering the _tali_.[105]

”You have won your throws fairly,” he said, handing it back. ”Now let us invoke the decision of Fortune once more. A libation to the Genius of Good Luck!” And instead of spilling out a few drops only, he canted the flagon too far and spattered the wine on to the floor.

[105] Four-sided dice.