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pubOne.info present you this new edition. 'HO, Diomed, well met! Do you sup with Glaucus to-night? ' said a young man of small stature, who wore his tunic in those loose and effeminate folds which proved him to be a gentleman and a coxcomb.

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Publié par	Pub One Info
Date de parution	06 novembre 2010
Nombre de lectures	1
EAN13	9782819933137
Langue	English

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THE LAST DAYS OF POMPEII
by Edward George Bulwer-Lytton
BOOK THE FIRST
Chapter I.
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF POMPEII.
'HO, Diomed, well met! Do you sup with Glaucusto-night? ' said a young man of small stature, who wore his tunicin those loose and effeminate folds which proved him to be agentleman and a coxcomb.
'Alas, no! dear Clodius; he has not invited me, 'replied Diomed, a man of portly frame and of middle age. 'ByPollux, a scurvy trick! for they say his suppers are the best inPompeii'.
'Pretty well— though there is never enough of winefor me. It is not the old Greek blood that flows in his veins, forhe pretends that wine makes him dull the next morning. '
'There may be another reason for that thrift, ' saidDiomed, raising his brows. 'With all his conceit and extravagancehe is not so rich, I fancy, as he affects to be, and perhaps lovesto save his amphorae better than his wit. '
'An additional reason for supping with him while thesesterces last. Next year, Diomed, we must find another Glaucus.'
'He is fond of the dice, too, I hear. '
'He is fond of every pleasure; and while he likesthe pleasure of giving suppers, we are all fond of him. '
'Ha, ha, Clodius, that is well said! Have you everseen my wine-cellars, by-the-by? '
'I think not, my good Diomed. '
'Well, you must sup with me some evening; I havetolerable muraenae in my reservoir, and I ask Pansa the aedile tomeet you. '
'O, no state with me! — Persicos odi apparatus, I ameasily contented. Well, the day wanes; I am for the baths— and you.. . '
'To the quaestor— business of state— afterwards tothe temple of Isis. Vale! '
'An ostentatious, bustling, ill-bred fellow, 'muttered Clodius to himself, as he sauntered slowly away. 'Hethinks with his feasts and his wine-cellars to make us forget thathe is the son of a freedman— and so we will, when we do him thehonour of winning his money; these rich plebeians are a harvest forus spendthrift nobles. '
Thus soliloquising, Clodius arrived in the ViaDomitiana, which was crowded with passengers and chariots, andexhibited all that gay and animated exuberance of life and motionwhich we find at this day in the streets of Naples.
The bells of the cars as they rapidly glided by eachother jingled merrily on the ear, and Clodius with smiles or nodsclaimed familiar acquaintance with whatever equipage was mostelegant or fantastic: in fact, no idler was better known inPompeii.
'What, Clodius! and how have you slept on your goodfortune? ' cried, in a pleasant and musical voice, a young man, ina chariot of the most fastidious and graceful fashion. Upon itssurface of bronze were elaborately wrought, in the still exquisiteworkmanship of Greece, reliefs of the Olympian games; the twohorses that drew the car were of the rarest breed of Parthia; theirslender limbs seemed to disdain the ground and court the air, andyet at the slightest touch of the charioteer, who stood behind theyoung owner of the equipage, they paused motionless, as if suddenlytransformed into stone— lifeless, but lifelike, as one of thebreathing wonders of Praxiteles. The owner himself was of thatslender and beautiful symmetry from which the sculptors of Athensdrew their models; his Grecian origin betrayed itself in his lightbut clustering locks, and the perfect harmony of his features. Hewore no toga, which in the time of the emperors had indeed ceasedto be the general distinction of the Romans, and was especiallyridiculed by the pretenders to fashion; but his tunic glowed in therichest hues of the Tyrian dye, and the fibulae, or buckles, bywhich it was fastened, sparkled with emeralds: around his neck wasa chain of gold, which in the middle of his breast twisted itselfinto the form of a serpent's head, from the mouth of which hungpendent a large signet ring of elaborate and most exquisiteworkmanship; the sleeves of the tunic were loose, and fringed atthe hand with gold: and across the waist a girdle wrought inarabesque designs, and of the same material as the fringe, servedin lieu of pockets for the receptacle of the handkerchief and thepurse, the stilus and the tablets.
'My dear Glaucus! ' said Clodius, 'I rejoice to seethat your losses have so little affected your mien. Why, you seemas if you had been inspired by Apollo, and your face shines withhappiness like a glory; any one might take you for the winner, andme for the loser. '
'And what is there in the loss or gain of those dullpieces of metal that should change our spirit, my Clodius? ByVenus, while yet young, we can cover our full locks with chaplets—while yet the cithara sounds on unsated ears— while yet the smileof Lydia or of Chloe flashes over our veins in which the blood runsso swiftly, so long shall we find delight in the sunny air, andmake bald time itself but the treasurer of our joys. You sup withme to-night, you know. '
'Who ever forgets the invitation of Glaucus! '
'But which way go you now? '
'Why, I thought of visiting the baths: but it wantsyet an hour to the usual time. '
'Well, I will dismiss my chariot, and go with you.So, so, my Phylias, ' stroking the horse nearest to him, which by alow neigh and with backward ears playfully acknowledged thecourtesy: 'a holiday for you to-day. Is he not handsome, Clodius?'
'Worthy of Phoebus, ' returned the noble parasite—'or of Glaucus. '
Chapter II
THE BLIND FLOWER-GIRL, AND THE BEAUTY OF FASHION.THE ATHENIAN'S CONFESSION. THE READER'S INTRODUCTION TO ARBACES OFEGYPT.
TALKING lightly on a thousand matters, the two youngmen sauntered through the streets; they were now in that quarterwhich was filled with the gayest shops, their open interiors alland each radiant with the gaudy yet harmonious colors of frescoes,inconceivably varied in fancy and design. The sparkling fountains,that at every vista threw upwards their grateful spray in thesummer air; the crowd of passengers, or rather loiterers, mostlyclad in robes of the Tyrian dye; the gay groups collected roundeach more attractive shop; the slaves passing to and fro withbuckets of bronze, cast in the most graceful shapes, and borne upontheir heads; the country girls stationed at frequent intervals withbaskets of blushing fruit, and flowers more alluring to the ancientItalians than to their descendants (with whom, indeed, “latetanguis in herba, ” a disease seems lurking in every violet androse); the numerous haunts which fulfilled with that idle peoplethe office of cafes and clubs at this day; the shops, where onshelves of marble were ranged the vases of wine and oil, and beforewhose thresholds, seats, protected from the sun by a purple awning,invited the weary to rest and the indolent to lounge— made a sceneof such glowing and vivacious excitement, as might well give theAthenian spirit of Glaucus an excuse for its susceptibility tojoy.
'Talk to me no more of Rome, ' said he to Clodius.'Pleasure is too stately and ponderous in those mighty walls: evenin the precincts of the court— even in the Golden House of Nero,and the incipient glories of the palace of Titus, there is acertain dulness of magnificence— the eye aches— the spirit iswearied; besides, my Clodius, we are discontented when we comparethe enormous luxury and wealth of others with the mediocrity of ourown state. But here we surrender ourselves easily to pleasure, andwe have the brilliancy of luxury without the lassitude of its pomp.'
'It was from that feeling that you chose your summerretreat at Pompeii? '
'It was. I prefer it to Baiae: I grant the charms ofthe latter, but I love not the pedants who resort there, and whoseem to weigh out their pleasures by the drachm. '
'Yet you are fond of the learned, too; and as forpoetry, why, your house is literally eloquent with AEschylus andHomer, the epic and the drama. '
'Yes, but those Romans who mimic my Athenianancestors do everything so heavily. Even in the chase they maketheir slaves carry Plato with them; and whenever the boar is lost,out they take their books and their papyrus, in order not to losetheir time too. When the dancing-girls swim before them in all theblandishment of Persian manners, some drone of a freedman, with aface of stone, reads them a section of Cicero “De Officiis”.Unskilful pharmacists! pleasure and study are not elements to bethus mixed together, they must be enjoyed separately: the Romanslose both by this pragmatical affectation of refinement, and provethat they have no souls for either. Oh, my Clodius, how little yourcountrymen know of the true versatility of a Pericles, of the truewitcheries of an Aspasia! It was but the other day that I paid avisit to Pliny: he was sitting in his summer-house writing, whilean unfortunate slave played on the tibia. His nephew (oh! whip mesuch philosophical coxcombs! ) was reading Thucydides' descriptionof the plague, and nodding his conceited little head in time to themusic, while his lips were repeating all the loathsome details ofthat terrible delineation. The puppy saw nothing incongruous inlearning at the same time a ditty of love and a description of theplague. '
'Why, they are much the same thing, ' saidClodius.
'So I told him, in excuse for his coxcombry— but myyouth stared me rebukingly in the face, without taking the jest,and answered, that it was only the insensate ear that the musicpleased, whereas the book (the description of the plague, mind you!) elevated the heart. “Ah! ” quoth the fat uncle, wheezing, “my boyis quite an Athenian, always mixing the utile with the dulce. ” OMinerva, how I laughed in my sleeve! While I was there, they cameto tell the boy-sophist that his favorite freedman was just dead ofa fever. “Inexorable death! ” cried he; “get me my Horace. Howbeautifully the sweet poet consoles us for these misfortunes! ” Oh,can these men love, my Clodius? Scarcely even with the senses. Howrarely a Roman has a heart! He is but the mechanism of genius— hewants its bones and flesh. '
Though Clodius was secretly a little sore at theseremarks on his countrym