CHAPTER II.

The squall had completely died away; the waves were still tossing and

tumbling in the bay, but the streamers of the crowd of barks, which lay

under the shore, hardly fluttered in the breeze, and the fishing-boats

were putting out to sea in little fleets.

Gay and busy was the scene on the quays of Baiae; distinguished

visitors from every part of the vast empire were driving, riding or

walking on the lava-paved[48] sea-wall, and the long roads round the

harbor. Elegantly-dressed ladies in magnificent litters were borne by

Sicambri[49] in red livery,[50] or by woolly-headed Ethiopians.[51]

Lower down a crowd of sailors shouted and struggled, and weather-beaten

porters in Phrygian caps urgently offered their services, while vendors

of cakes and fruit shrilly advertised the quality of their fragrant

goods. Behind this bustling foreground of unresting and eager activity

rose the amphitheatre of buildings that composed the town. Aurelius

had been charmed with Panormus and Gades, but he now had to confess

that they both must yield the palm in comparison with this, the finest

pleasure-resort and bathing-place in the world. Palace was ranged above

palace, villa beyond villa, temple above temple. Amid an ocean of

greenery stood statues, halls, theatres and baths;[52] as far round as

the promontory of Misenum the shores of the bay were one long town of

villas, gorgeous with the combined splendors of wealth, and of natural

beauty.

The two ladies and their cortège proceeded for some distance along

the shore of the harbor, and then turned up-hill in the direction

of Cumae.[53] In front walked eight or ten slaves[54] who cleared

the way; then came Octavia, her litter borne by six bronze-hued

Lusitanians.[55] Claudia shared her litter with Baucis, while

Herodianus, Magus, Octavia’s rowers, and a few servants with various

bundles followed on foot. Aurelius had mounted his Hispanian horse and

rode by the side of the little caravan, sometimes in front, sometimes

behind, and enquiring the way, now of Octavia and now of Claudia and

Baucis.

“Our villa is quite at the top of the ridge,” said Claudia. “There,

where the holm oaks come down to the fig gardens.”

“What?” cried Aurelius in surprise. “That great pillared building, half

buried in the woods to the left?”

“No, no,” said the girl laughing; “the gods have not housed us so

magnificently. To the right--that little villa in the knoll.”

“Ah!” cried the Batavian; the disappointment was evidently a very

pleasant one. “And whose is that vast palace?”

“It belongs to Domitia, Caesar’s wife. Since she has lived separate

from her imperial lord, she always spends the summer here.”

The road grew steeper as they mounted.

“Oh merciful power!” sighed the worthy Baucis, “to think that these

fine young men should be made to toil thus for an old woman! By

Osiris! I am ashamed of myself. To carry you, sweet Claudia, is indeed

a pleasure--but me, wrinkled old Baucis! If I had not sprained my

ribs--as sure as I live...! But I will reward them for it; each man

shall have a little jar of Nile-water.”

“Do not be uneasy on their account,” said Herodianus, wiping his brow.

“Our Northmen are used to heavier burdens!” Then, turning to Magus, he

went on: “By all the gods, I entreat you--a draught of Caecubum![56] I

am bound to carry this weary load,” and he slapped his round paunch,

“this Erymanthian boar,[57] like a second Hercules, to the top of the

hill on my own unaided legs! and I am dropping with exhaustion.”

The Goth smiled and signed to one of the slaves, who was carrying wine

and other refreshments.

“The wine of Caecubus,” said Herodianus, “is especially good against

fatigue. Dionysus,[58] gracious giver, I sacrifice to thee!” and as

he spoke he shed a few drops as a libation[59] on the earth and then

emptied the cup with the promptitude of a practised drinker.

In about twenty minutes more they reached Octavia’s house; in the

vestibule[60] a young girl came running out to meet them.

“Mother, dear, sweet mother!” she cried excitedly, “and Claudia,

my darling! Here you are at last. Oh! we have been so dreadfully

frightened, Quintus and I; that awful storm! the whole bay was churned

up, as white as milk. But oh! I am glad to have you safe again!

Quintus! Quintus!...”

And she flew back into the house, where they heard her fresh, happy

voice still calling: “Quintus!”

“My adopted daughter,”[61] said Octavia, in answer to an enquiring

glance from Aurelius.

“Lucilia,” added Claudia, “whom I love as if she were my own real

sister.”

Aurelius, who had sprung from his horse, throwing the bridle to his

faithful Magus, was on the point of conducting Octavia into the

atrium,[62] when a youth of remarkable beauty appeared in the door-way

and silently clasped this lady in his arms. Then he pressed a long

and loving kiss on Claudia’s lips, and it was not till after he had

thus welcomed the mother and daughter, that he turned hesitatingly to

Aurelius, who stood on one side blushing deeply; a sign from Octavia

postponed all explanation. The whole party entered the house, and it

was not till they were standing in the pillared hall, where marble

seats piled with cushions invited them to repose, that Octavia said to

the astonished youth with a certain solemnity of mien:

“Quintus, my son, it is to this stranger--the noble and illustrious

Caius Aurelius Menapius, of Trajectum, in the land of the Batavi--that

you owe it that you see us here now. He took us on board his trireme,

for our boat was sinking. I declare myself his debtor henceforth

forever. Do you, on your part, show him all the hospitality and regard

that he deserves.” Quintus came forward and embraced Aurelius.

“I hope, my lord,” he said with an engaging smile, “that you will

for some time give us the honor of your company and so give us, your

debtors, the opportunity we desire of becoming your friends.”

“He has already promised to do so,” said Octavia.

Lucilia now joined them, having put on a handsomer dress in honor of

the stranger, and stuck a rose into her chestnut hair; she sat down by

Claudia and took her hand, leaning her head against her shoulder.

“But tell us the whole story!” cried Quintus. “I am burning to hear a

full and exact account of your adventure.”

Octavia told her tale; one thing gave rise to another, and before they

thought it possible, it was the hour for dinner--the first serious meal

of the day, at about noon--and they adjourned to the triclinium.[63]

Under no circumstances do people so soon wax intimate as at meals.

Aurelius, who until now had listened more than he had spoken, soon

became talkative under the cool and comfortable vaulted roof of

the eating-room, and he grew quite eager and vivacious as he told

of his long and dangerous voyage, of the towns he had visited, and

particularly of his distant home in the north. He spoke of his

distinguished father, who, as a merchant, had travelled eastwards

to the remote lands east of the peninsula of the Cimbri[64] and to

the fog-veiled shores of the Guttoni,[65] the Aestui[66] and the

Scandii;[67] indeed Aurelius himself knew much of the wonders and

peculiarities of these little-visited lands, for he had three times

accompanied his father. Many a time on these expeditions had they

passed the night in lonely settlements or hamlets, where not a soul

among the natives understood the Roman tongue, where the bear and the

aurochs fought in the neighboring woods, or eternal terrors brooded

over the boundless plain.

These pictures of inhospitable and desert regions, which Aurelius so

vividly brought before their fancy, were those which best pleased

his hearers. Here, close to the luxurious town, and surrounded by

everything that could add comfort and enjoyment to life, the idea

of perils so remote seemed to double their appreciation.[68] When

they rose from table the ladies withdrew, to indulge in that private

repose which was customary of an afternoon. Lucilia could not forbear

whispering to her companion, that she would far rather have remained

with the young men--that Aurelius was a quite delightful creature,

modest and frank, and at the same time upright and steady--a rock in

the sea on which the Pharos of a life’s happiness might be securely

founded.

“You know,” she added earnestly, while her eyes sparkled with

excitement from under her thick curls, “Quintus is far handsomer--he is

exactly like the Apollo in the Golden House[69] by the Esquiline. But

he is also like the gods, in that he is apt to vanish suddenly behind

a cloud, and is gone. Now Aurelius, or my soul deceives me, would be

constant to those he loved. It is a pity that his rank is no higher

than that of knight, and that he is so unlucky as to be a native of

Trajectum.”

“Oh! you thorough Roman!” laughed Claudia. “No one is good for anything

in your eyes, that was not born within sight of the Seven Hills.”[70]

She put her arm round her gay companion, and carried her off

half-resisting to their quiet sleeping-room.

Neither Quintus nor Aurelius cared to follow the example of the

ladies--not the Roman, for he had slept on late into the day--nor the

stranger, for the excitement of this eventful morning had fevered

his blood. Besides, there was the temptation of an atmosphere as of

Paradise, uniting the glory and plenitude of summer with the fresh

transparency of autumn. During dinner Aurelius had turned again

and again to look through the wide door-way at the beautiful scene

without, and now he crossed the threshold and filled his spirit with

the loveliness before him. Here was not--as in the formal gardens of

Rome[71]--a parterre where everything was planned by line and square;

here were no trained trees and hedges, circular beds or clipped shrubs.

All was free and wholesome Nature, lavish and thriving vitality. The

paths alone, leading from the villa in three directions into the wood,

betrayed the care of man. The whole vegetation of the happy land of

Campania seemed to have been brought together on the slope below. Huge

plane-trees, on which vines hung their garlands, lifted their heads

above the holm-oaks and gnarled quinces. The broad-leaved fig glistened

by the side of the grey-green olive; here stood a clump of stalwart

pines, there wide-spreading walnuts and slender poplars. Below them

was a wild confusion of brush-wood and creepers; ivy, periwinkle and

acanthus entangled the giants of the wood with an inextricable network.

Maiden-hair hung in luxuriant tufts above the myrtles and bays, and

sombre evergreens contrasted with the brilliant centifolia. In short

the whole plant-world of southern Italy here held an intoxicating orgy.

Quintus seemed to divine the thoughts of the young Northman, and put

his hand confidingly through his guest’s arm, and so they walked on,

taking the middle path of the three before them, and gently mounting

the hill.

“I can see,” said Quintus, “that you are a lover of Nature; I quite

understand that a garden at Baiae must seem enchanting to you, who came

hither from the region of Boreas himself, where the birch and the beech

can scarcely thrive. But you can only form a complete idea of it from

the top of the hill; we have built a sort of temple there and the view

is unequalled....”

“You are greatly to be envied,” said Aurelius. “And how is it that

Titus Claudius, your illustrious father, does not enjoy himself on this

lovely estate, instead of living in Rome as I hear he does?”

“As priest to the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus[72] he is tied to the

capital. The rules forbid his ever quitting it for more than a night

at a time. Dignity, you see, brings its own burdens, and not even the

greatest can have everything their own way. Many a time has my father

longed to be away from the turbulent metropolis--but no god has broken

his chains. Unfulfilled desires are the lot of all men.”

He spoke with such emphasis, that the stranger glanced at him.

“What desire of yours can be unfulfilled?”

A meaning smile parted the Roman’s lips.

“If you are thinking of things which gold and silver will purchase,

certainly I lack little. Everything may be had in Rome for money;

everything--excepting one thing; the stilling of our craving for

happiness.”

“What do you understand by that?”

“Can you ask me? I, here and as you see me, am a favorite of fortune,

rich and independent by my grandfather’s will, which left me possessed

of several millions at an early age--as free and healthy as a

bird--strong and well-grown and expert in all that is expected of a

young fellow in my position. I had hardly to do more than put out my

hand, to acquire the most influential position and the highest offices

and honors--to become Praetor or Consul.[73] I am well received at

court, and look boldly in the face of Caesar, before whom so many

tremble. I am betrothed to a maiden as fair as Aphrodite herself, and a

hundred others, no less fair, would give years of their lives to call

me their lover for a week--and yet--have you ever felt what it is to

loathe your existence?”

“No!” said Aurelius.

“Then you are divine, among mortals. You see, weeks and months go by

in the turmoil of enjoyment; the bewildered brain is incapable of

following it all--then life is endurable. My cup wreathed with roses,

a fiery-eyed dancer from Gades[74] by my side, floating on the giddy

whirl of luxury, as mad and thoughtless as a thyrsus-bearer[75] at the

feast of Dionysus--under such conditions I can bear it for a while. But

here, where my unoccupied mind is thrown back upon itself....”

“But what you say,” interrupted Aurelius, “proves not that you are

satiated with the joys of life, so much as--you will forgive my

plainness--that you are satiated with excess. You are betrothed, you

say, and yet you can feel a flame for a fiery-eyed Gaditanian. In my

country a man keeps away from all other girls, when he has chosen his

bride.”

“Oh yes! I know that morality has taken refuge in the provinces,”

said Quintus ironically. “But the youth of Rome go to work somewhat

differently, and no one thinks the worse of us for it. Of course we

avoid public comment, which otherwise is anxiously courted--but we live

nevertheless just as the humor takes us.”

Aurelius shook his head doubtfully.

“Well, well,” said Quintus. “You good folks in the north have a

stricter code--Tacitus describes the savage Germanic tribes as almost

equally severe. But Rome is Roman.--No prayers can alter that; and

after all you get used to it! I believe Cornelia herself would hardly

scold if she heard.... Besides, it is in the air. Old Cato has

long, long been forgotten, and the new Babylon by the Tiber wants

pleasure--will have pleasure, for in pleasure alone can she find her

vocation and the justification of her existence.”

“And does your bride live in the capital?” asked Aurelius after a pause.

“At Tibur,” replied Quintus. “Her uncle, Cornelius Cinna, avoids the

neighborhood of the court on principle. The fact that Domitia resides

here is quite enough to make him hate Baiae--although, as you know,

Domitia has long ceased to belong to Caesar’s court.”

Aurelius was silent. Often had his worldly-wise father warned him

never to speak of affairs of state or even of the throne, excepting

in the narrowest circle of his most trusted friends; under the reign

of terror of Domitian, the most trivial remark might prove fateful

to the speaker. The numerous spies, known as delators, who had found

their way everywhere, scenting their prey, had undermined all mutual

confidence and trust to such an extent that friends feared each other;

the patron trembled before his client, and the master before his slave.

Although the manner and address of his host invited confidence, caution

was always on the safe side, all the more so as the young Roman was

evidently an ally of the court party. So the Northman checked the

utterance of that fierce patriotism, which the hated name of Domitian

had so painfully stirred in his soul. “Unhappy Rome!” thought he: “What

can and must become of you, if men like this Quintus have no feeling

for your disgrace and needs?”

The next turn in the path brought them within sight of the little

temple; marble steps, half covered with creepers, led through a

Corinthian portico into the airy hall within. The panorama from this

spot was indeed magnificent; far below lay the blue waters of the bay,

with the stupendous bridge of Nero;[76] farther away lay Baiae with

its thousand palaces and the forest of masts by Puteoli; beyond these,

Parthenope, beautiful Surrentum,[77] and the shining islands bathed

by the boundless sea; the vaporous cloud from Vesuvius hung like a

cone of snow in the still blue atmosphere. To the north the horizon

was bounded by the bay of Caieta[78] the Lucrine lake and the wooded

slopes of Cumae. The foreground was no less enchanting; all round the

pavilion lay a verdurous and luxuriant wilderness, and hardly a hundred

paces from the spot rose the colossal palace of the Empress, shaded by

venerable trees. The mysterious silence of noon brooded over the whole

landscape; only a faint hum of life came up from the seaport. All else

was still, not a living creature seemed to breathe within ear-shot....

Suddenly a sound came through the air, like a suppressed groan;

Aurelius looked round--out there, there where the branches parted in an

arch to form a vista down into the valley--there was a white object,

something like a human form. The young foreigner involuntarily pointed

that way.

“Look there, Quintus!” he whispered to his companion.

“That is part of the Empress’s grounds,” replied the Roman.

“But do you see nothing there by the trunk of that plane-tree? About

six--eight paces on the other side of the laurel-hedge? Hark! there is

that groan again.”

“Pah! Some slave or another who has been flogged. Stephanus, Domitia’s

steward, is one of those who know how to make themselves obeyed.”

“But it was such a deep, heartrending sigh!”

“No doubt,” laughed Quintus; “Stephanus is no trifler. Where his lash

falls the skin comes off; then he is apt to tie up the men he has

flogged in the wood here, where the gnats....”

“Hideous!” cried Aurelius interrupting him. “Let us run down and set

the poor wretch free!”

“I will take good care to do nothing of the kind. We have no right in

the world to do such a thing.”

“Well, at any rate, I will find out what he has done wrong. His

torturer’s brutality makes me hot with indignation!”

So speaking he walked straight down the hill through the brushwood.

Quintus followed, not over-pleased at the incident; and he was very

near giving vent to his annoyance when a swaying branch hit him sharply

on the forehead. But the native courtesy, the urbanity[79] or town

breeding, which distinguished every Roman, prevailed, and in a few

minutes they had reached the laurel-hedge. Quintus was surprised to

find himself in front of a tolerably wide gap, which could not have

been made by accident; but there the young men paused, for Quintus

hesitated to trespass on the Empress’s grounds.

The sight which met his eyes was a common one enough to the blunted

nerves of the Roman, but Aurelius was deeply moved. A pale, bearded

man,[80] young, but with a singularly resolute expression, stood

fettered to a wooden post, his back dreadfully lacerated by a stick or

lash, while swarms of insects buzzed round his bleeding body.

“Hapless wretch!” cried Aurelius. “What have you done, that you should

atone for it so cruelly?”

The slave groaned, glanced up to heaven and said in a choked voice:

“I did my duty.”

“And are men punished in your country for doing their duty?” asked the

Batavian frowning, and, unable any longer to control himself, he went

straight up to the victim and prepared to release him. The slave’s face

lighted up with pleasure.

“I thank you, stranger,” he said with emotion, “but if you were to

release me, it would be doing me an ill-turn. Fresh torture would be

all that would come of it. Let me be; I have borne the like before now;

I have only another hour to hold out. If you feel kindly towards me, go

away, leave me! Woe is me if any one sees you here!”

Quintus now came up to him; this really heroic resignation excited his

astonishment, nay, his admiration.

“Man,” said he, waving away the swarm of gnats with his hand, “are you

a disciple of the Stoa,[81] or yourself a demi-god? Who in the world

has taught you thus to contemn pain?”

“My lord,” replied the slave, “many better than I have endured greater

suffering.”

“Greater suffering--yes, but to greater ends. A Regulus, a Scaevola

have suffered for their country; but you--a wretched slave, a grain

of sand among millions--you, whose sufferings are of no more account

than the death of a trapped jackal--where do you find this indomitable

courage? What god has endowed you with such superhuman strength?”

A beatific smile stole over the man’s drawn features.

“The one true God,” he replied with fervent emphasis, “who has pity on

the feeble; the all-merciful God, who loves the poor and abject.”

A step was heard approaching.

“Leave me here alone!” the slave implored them. “It is the overseer.”

Quintus and Aurelius withdrew silently, but from the top of the copse

they could see a hump-backed figure that came muttering and grumbling

up to where the slave was bound, released him presently from the stake

and led him away into the gardens. For a minute or two longer the young

men lingered under the pavilion and then, lost in thought, returned to

the house. Their conversation could not be revived.

FOOTNOTES:

[48] LAVA BLOCKS. The usual material for pavements in central and

southern Italy.

[49] SICAMBRI. A powerful German tribe, occupying in the time of

Caesar the eastern bank of the Rhine, and extending from the

Sieg to the Lippe.

[50] RED LIVERY. The usual costume of the litter-bearers in the

time of the emperors.

[51] WOOLLY-HEADED ETHIOPIANS. The name Ethiopian Αἰθίοπες in its

more restricted sense, applies to the inhabitants of Upper

Egypt; in a more general meaning to the whole population of

North-eastern Africa, and South-western Asia. According to

Herodotus (VII, 70) the Ethiopians dwelling in the East had

smooth, those in the West woolly hair.

[52] BATHS (_thermae_, θέρμαι, that is “warm baths”) were public

bathing-establishments on the grandest scale, modelled after

the Greek wrestling-schools. See Becker, _Gallus_ III, p. 68

and following.

[53] CUMAE (Κύμη) now Cuma, the oldest of the Greek colonies in Italy,

beyond the mountain range that bounds the bay of Baja on the

west; it is only a few thousand paces from Baja.

[54] IN FRONT WALKED EIGHT OR TEN SLAVES. Such a vanguard was

customary among people of distinction, even when they went on

foot.

[55] LUSITANIANS. A people living in the region now known as

Portugal, between the Tagus (_Tajo_, _Tejo_) and Durius,

(_Duero_, _Douro_.)

[56] CAECUBUM. A district on the shores of the bay of Gaeta,

famous for its wine. See (Horace _Od._ I, 20, 9 and I, 37, 5)

where it is said, that it would be positively sinful to bring

Caecubian wine from the cellar with other kinds on ordinary

occasions (_antehac nefas depromere Caecubum cellis avitis_,

_etc._).

[57] ERYMANTHIAN BOAR. So called from Mt. Erymanthus in Arcadia,

where the animal lived until slain by Hercules.

[58] DIONYSUS. A surname of Bacchus.

[59] LIBATION. Wine poured as an offering to the gods.

[60] VESTIBULUM. The space in front of the house-door (_fores_)

which in the time of the imperial government was frequently

covered with a portico.

[61] ADOPTED DAUGHTER. The adoption of a child in ancient Rome

was regulated by very strict laws. Adoption in its narrower

sense (_adoptio_) extended to persons who were still under

paternal authority; with self-dependent persons the so-called

_arrogatio_ took place. With women this last form was entirely

excluded.

[62] ATRIUM. From the door of the house a narrow passage (_ostium_)

led to the first inner court, the atrium, so-called because

this space, where the hearth originally was, was _blackened_

by the smoke (_ater_). The atrium, which in the more ancient

Roman houses possessed the character of a room with a

comparatively small opening in the roof, and afterwards

resembled a court-yard, was at first the central point

of family life, the sitting-room, where the industrious

house-keeper sat enthroned among her slaves. When republican

simplicity gave way to luxury, the atrium became the hall

devoted to the reception of guests, and domestic life was

confined to the more retired apartments.

[63] TRICLINIUM, (triple couch) really the sofa on which three,

and sometimes even more persons reclined at table; the name

was also given to the dining-room itself, which comprised the

second inner court-yard, the so-called peristyle or cavaedium.

[64] CIMBRIAN PENINSULA, now called Jutland.

[65] GUTTONI. A German race on the lower Vistula.

[66] AESTUI. A German race living on the coast of Revel.

[67] SCANDII. Inhabitants of southern Sweden.

[68] THE SENSE OF CONTRAST was a conspicuous trait in Roman

character. They were wont to heighten their appreciation of

the joys of life by images of death, and the dining-room was

intentionally placed so as to afford a view of tombs.

[69] THE GOLDEN HOUSE (_domus aurea_). The name given to the

magnificent palace of Nero, which extended from the Palatine

Hill across the valley and up again as far as the gardens of

Macaenas on the Esquiline. It contained an enormous number of

the choicest works in statuary. Vespasian had a large part of

this building pulled down.

[70] THE SEVEN HILLS. Contempt for all who lived in the provinces

was peculiar to all Romans, even the lowest classes of the

populace. Thus Cicero says: “_Cum infimo cive romano quisquam

amplissimus Galliae comparandus est?_” (Can even the most

distinguished Gaul be compared with the humblest Roman

citizen?) This prejudice extended to later centuries, though

under the first emperors numerous inhabitants of the provinces

attained the rank of senator and reached the highest offices.

It is very comical, when Juvenal, a freedman’s son, treats the

“knights from Asia Minor,” (_Equites Asiani_) condescendingly,

as if they were intruders, unworthy to unfasten the straps of

his sandals. Inhabitants of the other provinces were held in

higher esteem than the Greeks and Orientals. But even Tacitus

(_Ann._ IV, 3.) regards it as an aggravation of the crime

committed by the wife of Drusus, that Sejanus, for whom she

broke her marriage-vow, was not a full-blooded Roman, but

merely a knight from Volsinii.

[71] THE FORMAL GARDENS OF ROME. The taste of the Romans in regard

to the art of gardening resembled that shown at Versailles.

The eloquence with which individual authors urge a return to

nature (Hor. _Epist._ I, 10, Prop. I, 2, Juv. _Sat._ III,

etc.,) only proves that the opposite course was universal.

Clipping bushes and trees into artificial forms was considered

specially fashionable. Thus Pliny the younger, in his

description of the Tuscan villa (_Ep._ V, 6,) writes: “Before

the colonnade is an open terrace, surrounded with box, the

trees clipped into various shapes; below it a steep slope of

lawn, at whose foot, on both sides of the path, stand bushes

of box, shaped into the forms of various animals. On the level

ground the acanthus grows delicately, I might almost say

transparently. Around it is a hedge of thick closely-clipped

bushes, and around this hedge runs an avenue of circular form,

adorned with box clipped into various shapes, and small trees

artistically trimmed. The whole is surrounded by a wall,

concealed by box.” Then towards the end of the letter: “The

box is clipped into a thousand shapes, sometimes into letters,

that form the name of the owner or gardener.”

[72] JUPITER CAPITOLINUS. The priests of certain divinities were

called _Flamines_ and the chief of these was the _Flamen

Dialis_ or priest of Jupiter--called Capitolinus from the hill

on which the temple stood. Tacitus (_Ann._ III, 71,) tells us

of the prohibition here spoken of.

[73] THE PRAETORSHIP AND CONSULSHIP were still, under the emperors,

an object of ardent desire, in spite of the fact that these

offices had been stripped of all power.

[74] GADES, now Cadiz, was famous for its dancers of easy morality.

(See Juv. _Sat._ XI, 162.)

[75] THYRSUS, (θύρσος) a pole or wand wreathed with vine and ivy

leaves, and borne by Bacchus and by Bacchantes.

[76] BRIDGE OF NERO. One of this emperor’s mad undertakings was the

construction, at an enormous expense, of a perfectly useless

bridge aslant across the bay of Baiae.

[77] SURRENTUM, now Sorrento.

[78] CAIETA, now Gaëta.

[79] URBANITAS. Literally: city training.

[80] A PALE, BEARDED MAN. Wearing beards first became general

under the Emperor Hadrian. At the time of this story it was

still the custom among the higher classes (but not among the

lower ones and the slaves) to shave off the beard after the

twenty-first year.

[81] STOA. The school of the stoics; so named from the pillared

hall (ποικίλη στοά) at Athens, where Zeno, the founder, taught.

The doctrine inculcated was the subjugation of physical and

moral evil by individual heroism.