Deborah: A tale of the times of Judas Maccabaeus. James M. Ludlow

of opposing the distempered will of his superior. Veiling his resentment under a forced hilarity, he retired, and a half-hour later returned in company with the other guests.

      These were high officers in gorgeous togas, and caps whose tasselled tops lapped down to their shoulders. Each of these revellers was accompanied to the palace by one or more slaves, who would wait upon their masters at the feast, and take them home when drunk. A few subalterns were invited who, like Dion, compensated for lack of rank by their ready wit and their repertoire of stories and songs.

      As the guests reclined upon the cushions their shoes were unlaced and removed by Apollonius' menials, their feet washed in scented water, and gently rubbed with towels, while their caps were displaced by crowns of bay leaves gemmed with the pearly berries. Then the low tables were drawn within reach, laden with all that the distant markets of Antioch could furnish; for the conquered land of Judea gave them not so much as a fig or date. The Jews had left for the invaders only fish and game; but woe to the Syrian soldier who should venture beyond his camps to drop a line in lake or send an arrow after beast or bird!

      The viands were quickly disposed of, for, following the Greek custom, no wine was poured until the meats and spicy condiments had created abundant thirst.

      "A soldier's hunger is soon satisfied, but his thirst is like the river Oceanus that runs round the earth and has no end," cried Apollonius. "Let's to the potation. Who shall be master of the feast?"

      "Dion! Dion!" was shouted, with clapping and cheers.

      Apollonius whispered to his next neighbor:

      "The master of the feast, according to custom, must remain sober. We must have Dion's tongue loosened with wine, or we shall not skim the cream of his wit. Call for Kallisthenes. He is duller drunk than sober."

      "Kallisthenes! Kallisthenes!" went round the table, as the suggestion of the host was whispered from one to another.

      "This is a deserved honor," shouted Apollonius, "for the man who fired the gates of the Jews' Temple."

      "Aye, it was a valiant deed, for there wasn't so much as a lame Jew to stop him," said Sotades to Dion, who reclined next to him.

      "If Apollonius is scattering heroic honors to-night, he should send for the High Priest, Menelaos, for he stole the golden candlesticks from the Holy Place before we could get hold of them," said another.

      "Menelaos! The Jew turned Greek! Dion says he once frightened an Ethiopian into a white man. So Menelaos became a Greek. That Jew's lips would poison the wine. Let him get ready for his feast with the worms of Gehenna," grunted the Governor.

      Kallisthenes at once assumed the prerogative of Ruler of the Feast. He put on a chaplet of ivy, and proclaimed the laws for the hour.

      "Hear ye, my subjects, the rules of the feast, which all shall obey under penalty of the wrath of the gods. May Bacchus and Aphrodite both desert the wretch who fails in his duty."

      "Law the first—The wine shall not be mixed with more than half water."

      "What goblets shall we use?" asked one. "If the larger ones, I vote for one part wine to three parts water, as Hesiod recommends."

      "A frog's drink, as Pharecrates called it," replied the Ruler. "Half and half it shall be, and he who shirks the large goblet shall drink from the crater itself. Are we not all philosophers? And did not Socrates drink from the wine cooler?"

      "Agreed! Agreed!" echoed round the circle.

      One ruddy-faced veteran knelt in mock adoration at the feet of the Feast Master:

      "I humbly crave that, since I was born in distant Phrygia, we to-night follow the custom of the barbarians, and drink no water at all. Let us be inspired with the unadulterated soul of the god."

      "Bacchus pardon thy gluttony for the sake of thy piety," said the Master.

      "Law the second—Whereas wine should be drunk either hot or cold, and whereas, these Jews who are still above Hades have stopped the way to the mountains where lies the snow to chill it, therefore it is ordained that all drinks shall be heated with both fire and spice."

      "Agreed! Agreed!"

      "Law the third—Every goblet shall be quaffed from brim to bottom between two breaths."

      "It is agreed!"

      "Oh! my paunch!" cried one. "Do you think me a Deucalion to stand the deluge?"

      Servants poured the water and wine in equal quantities into the crater, or great bowl, from which it was ladled into the large goblets, holding half a quart each.

      "A bumper first to Bacchus."

      It was drunk with avidity. One started a song from the old poet Anacreon:

      "Thirsty earth drinks up the rain,

      Trees from earth drink that again,

      Ocean drinks the air, the sun

      Drinks the sea, and him the moon.

      Any reason canst thou think

      I should thirst while all these drink?"

      "Eros follows Bacchus," cried the Feast Master. "Now a cup to the Syrian goddess Astarte, since we are in her land, or to Aphrodite, Venus, or whatever name each one calls his lady-love."

      "Aye, a cup to Bathsheba! if any one has found a Jewess to his taste," shouted Apollonius, lifting his goblet toward Dion.

      Songs and comic speeches, extemporized pantomimes, riddles and stories, as the wine happened to stir the peculiar talent or caprice of the guest, interspersed the drinking.

      As the hours advanced the curtains at the doorway were swung aside, and a troop of dancing girls entered. They were of various races; the fair Caucasian from the Euxine, the Egyptian whose hue was the reflection of her desert sands, swarthy half-black Arabs from beyond Jordan, and Nubians whose faces seemed cut from solid jet—slaves whom Apollonius had captured or exchanged for other spoil of battle. These rendered the various songs and dances of their native lands. One performed the hazardous exploit of stepping to the throbbing of the zither between a score of sword blades, set with points upward. Another honored Apollonius by advancing on her hands, seizing the ladle of the wine jar between her toes, and dexterously filling with its contents the empty cup of the commandant.

      "Let Apollonius, the valiant conqueror of Jerusalem, show us a daughter of Israel. He is making a harem of them, if report be true," cried one.

      "Jewish maidens will not dance on anything except the thin air. So we had to hang a score of them yesterday," replied Apollonius. "But I will show you a genuine Jewish Cupid."

      "A circumcised Cupid! Apollonius' wit is as sharp as his knife," cried Kallisthenes.

      The Governor whispered to an attendant. In a few moments there was thrust into the room a naked boy. His limbs were exquisitely moulded. His large distended pupils shone with strange lustre in the flashing lights of the jewelled lanterns. His outstretched hands and cautious step showed that there was no sight in his eyes.

      "Bravo! Bravo! Cupid is blind! Well thought, Apollonius! Let us see to whom he has brought a message from the goddess," said Sotades.

      At this moment Kallisthenes uttered a cry of surprise and horror. He leaped to his feet and pointed to the great bowl from which the wine was taken.

      The servant, whose attention had been unduly drawn to the revellers, had inadvertently laid the ladle across the brim of the crater—a thing regarded as ominous of dire calamity to some one of the guests, the evil to be averted only by the instant cessation of the revelry.

      The feasters looked, and echoed the consternation of the Feast Master.

      The guests unceremoniously rose, and were hastening as fast as their uncertain legs and frightened attendants could carry them, when Apollonius recalled them. "A curse on the slave! Let us appease our Nemesis of the feast with the offal of the villain who has broken its rules!" and lifting the crater he felled the unfortunate