CHAPTER IV.

Next morning Quintus was up long before the sun, while in the atrium

the slaves were still busy cleaning the walls and the mosaic pavement,

so he lingered for a while in the peristyle. His eye dreamily watched

the soft swaying of the trees in melancholy relief against the

blue-green sky; light fleecy clouds floated in the transparent air,

and here and there above his head a star still twinkled fitfully.

Quintus sat on a bench with his head thrown back, for he was tired and

over-excited; an unwonted restlessness had brought him out of bed. How

calm and pure was this early gloaming! In Rome, so thought Quintus,

there was something uncanny and dreary in the early morning--the

grey of dawn came as the closing effect of a wild night of revelry.

Here, on the hills of Baiae, the stars winked like kindly eyes and

the twilight soothed the spirit! And yet, no; for here too was the

great capital; here too were storms and unrest. Rome, that monstrous

polypus, stretched its greedy arms out to the uttermost ends of the

world, and even into the calmest and most peaceful solitudes. Even

here, by the sea, wantonness had spread its glittering snares; here

too duty and truth were forsworn, and intrigue and inhumanity held

their orgies. Quintus thought of the tortured slave.... That pale and

pain-stricken face had sunk deep into his soul; strangely enough!

for his eye had long been accustomed to such sights of anguish and

horror. The bloody contests of gladiators had never roused him to

any other interest than that in a public entertainment. But this

particular picture forced itself on his memory, though--from the point

of view of any Roman of distinction--it had no interesting features

whatever, for of what account in the Roman Empire was a slave? And

especially in the sight of Quintus, rich, handsome and brilliant? It

was in short most strange--but that white, bearded face, with its

lofty, unflinching expression never faded from his memory, and his

inward eye found it impossible not to gaze upon it. Then, suddenly

another figure stood side by side with it: The white-armed Cypris

Domitia, the passion-stirred Empress. Here were pain, misery, silent

abnegation--there were feverish desires and passions, reckless, greedy,

all-absorbing selfishness.... By the gods--there they stood before

him--the slave and the imperial woman--both so distinct that he could

have touched them as it seemed.--The slave had broken his bonds and

put out his hand with a smile of beatitude, while the woman shrank away

and her white arms writhed like snakes of marble. She threw herself on

the earth, and her fair gold hair fell loose over the bleeding feet of

the slave....

Quintus started up, the murmur of the fountain had lulled him to sleep,

and now, as he rubbed his hand across his eyes, a woman’s figure was in

fact before him, not so stately and tall as the moonlighted Domitia,

but as fresh and sweet as a rose.

“Lucilia! Up so early?”

“I could not sleep and stole away softly from Claudia’s side. She is

still asleep, for she came to bed very late. But you, my respected

friend--what has brought you out before daybreak? You, the latest

sleeper of all the sons of Rome?”

“I was just like you. I think the strong liquor we drank at supper last

night....”

“A vain excuse,” said Lucilia. “When ever did good wine rob you of

a night’s rest? Sooner could I believe that you were thinking of

Cornelia!”

“What should make you think that?”

“Well, it is a natural inference. For what else are you her betrothed?

To be sure you do not play the part with much zeal.”

“How so?”

“Well, do you not go to see Lycoris just as much now as ever you did?”

“Pah!”

“‘Pah!’ What need have you to say ‘Pah!’ in that way? Is that right?

Is that horrid, shameless creature, who seems to turn all the men’s

heads, a fit companion for a man who is betrothed? I know you _love_

Cornelia--but this is a spiteful world, and supposing Cornelia were to

learn....”

“Well, and if she did?” said Quintus smiling. “Is it a crime to

frequent gay society, to see a few leaps and turns of Gades dancers and

to eat stewed muraenae?[98] Is there anything atrocious in fireworks or

flute-playing?”

“How eloquent you can be! You might almost make black seem white. But

I abide by my words; it is most unbecoming, and if you would but hear

reason you would give this woman up.”

“But pray believe me, there never was a pretty girl for whom I cared

less than for Lycoris.”

“Indeed! and that is why you are as constantly in her house as a client

in that of his patron.”[99]

“The comparison is not flattering.”

“But exact. Why should you frequent her house so constantly, if you are

so indifferent to her?”

“Child, you do not understand such matters. Her house is the centre

of all the wit and talent in Rome. Everything that is interesting or

remarkable meets there; it is in her rooms that Martial[100] utters his

most pregnant jests, and Statius reads his finest verses. Everyone

who lays any claim to talent or wit, whether statesmen or courtiers,

knights or senators, uses the atrium of Lycoris as a rendezvous. Last

autumn I even met Asprenas[101] the consul there. Where such men as

these are to be seen, Quintus Claudius, at three and twenty, may

certainly be allowed to go.”

“Quite the contrary,” cried Lucilia. “If you had grey hair, like

Nonius Asprenas, I would not waste words on the matter. But as it is,

the Gaulish Circe will end by falling in love with you, and then you

will be past praying for.” Quintus looked gaily at the girl’s smiling,

mocking face.

“You mean just the reverse,” he said. “For I know you regard me as far

from dangerous. Well! I can bear even that blow.”

“That is your new mood! There is no touching you in any way. If you had

only half as much constancy of mind as Aurelius!”

“Ah! you like him then?”

“Particularly. Do you know it would be delightful if he could remain

here a little longer--I mean for six or eight days. Then he could

travel with us to Rome.”

“Indeed?” said Quintus significantly.

“Now, what are you thinking of?”

“I? of nothing at all.”

“Go, there is no doing anything with you. Do not you see that I only

meant, the long days of travelling all by ourselves--Claudia turns

over a book, and you, you old lazy-bones, lie on a couch like an

invalid--I find it desperately dull. A travelling companion seems to me

to be the most desirable thing in the world--or do you dislike Caius

Aurelius?”

“Oh no. If only his trireme had wheels and could travel over land.”

“His ship will take care of itself. He can come with us in the

travelling chariot, and then he will be able to see part of the

Appian way.[102] It is a thousand times more interesting than a

sea-voyage.--Now, do it to please me and turn the conversation on the

subject at dinner to-day.”

“If you like,” said Quintus.

A slave now appeared on the threshold of the passage, which led from

the peristyle to the atrium.

“My lord,” he said: “Letters have arrived from Rome--and for you too,

Madam....”

“Then bring them out here.”

They were three very dissimilar letters, that Blepyrus handed to the

two young people. Lucilia’s was from the high-priest of Jupiter; Titus

Claudius Mucianus wrote as follows to his adopted daughter:

“Health and Blessings![103] I promised you lately, through Octavia,

your excellent mother, that my next letter should be addressed to

you, my dear daughter. I know that you value such proofs of my

fatherly remembrance, and I am glad that it should be so. However,

what I have to write does not concern you alone, my sweet Lucilia,

but all of you. The preparations for the magnificent Centennial

Festival,[104] which the Emperor Domitian--as you know--proposes

to hold in the course of next year, have so completely taken up

my time during the last few weeks, that I am sorely in need of

the rest and comfort of regular family life. In addition to this,

political disturbances of all kinds have occurred. Caesar has sent

for me six times to Albanum,[105] and I assure you it has been

incessant travelling to and fro. The matter is an open secret; all

Rome is discussing the decrees from the Palatine[106] against the

Nazarenes.[107] You may remember that superstitious sect of whom

Baucis spoke to you--a revolutionary faction, who, a score or so of

years since, stirred up the whole city and gave occasion for the

stern enactments of the divine Nero? Now again they are stirring up

revolt as if they were mad; they are shaking the very foundations

of society, and threaten to overturn all that we have till now held

most sacred. I must be silent as to personal affairs; enough to say

that I am weary and overwrought, and that my heart longs to see you

all again. I beg you therefore to make ready to start and return

as soon as possible to the City of the Seven Hills. Your mother

is now tolerably well again--thanks to all-merciful Jupiter--and

Quintus will not be vexed to learn that Cornelia is now staying in

Rome again. People are quitting their country homes somewhat early

this year; it is long since I have passed the month of September so

endurably. I shall expect you then, at latest, by Tuesday in next

week. Allowing three days for the journey, I thus give you two days

to prepare for it.

“Pray greet your mother and your sister lovingly from me. This

letter will, I hope, find you all in perfect health. I, for my

part, am quite well.

“Written at Rome, on the 11th September, in the year 848 after the

building of the city.”

The second letter was from Cornelia, Quintus’ betrothed, and ran as

follows:

“Cornelia embraces her dear Quintus a thousand times. Here I am in

Rome again, my beloved! My term of banishment to that odious desert

at Tibur is ended. But, woe is me! Rome is dead and deserted too

since you, my treasure, my idol, linger still far from the Seven

Hills! Oh! how glad I am to hear from your father, that he is

recalling you from Baiae sooner than was intended. Oh! Quintus, if

you felt only one thousandth part of what I feel, you would fly on

the wings of the storm to the arms of your love-sick Cornelia. The

days at Tibur were more dreary than ever. My uncle seemed to me so

depressed and tormented by gloomy thoughts. To crown my misery, old

Cocceius Nerva[108] must come and pay us a visit of eight mortal

days. I shall never forget that week as long as I live! You know

that when those two old men sit together, the house is as silent

as a tomb; every one goes about on tiptoe. This Cocceius Nerva has

the worst effect on my uncle. Only fancy what happened on the day

when he left. My uncle had accompanied him to his chariot, and when

he came back into the house he happened to pass my room, where

Chloe was just putting some fresh roses into my hair. When he saw

this, he fell into an indescribable fit of rage. ‘You old fool!’

he exclaimed pushing my good Chloe aside: ‘Have you women nothing

to think of but finery? Do you deck yourselves out like beasts for

sacrifice? Away with your rubbish! the house of Cornelius Cinna is

no place for roses!’ And then he turned upon me in a tone which

expressed volumes--‘Wait a while!’ he said. ‘You will soon be able

to do whatever pleases your fancy!’ You understand Quintus, he

meant to refer to you. His words cut me to the heart, for I have

known a long time that my uncle is not pleased at our connection.

If my blessed mother had not made him swear, on her deathbed, that

he would leave my choice perfectly free, who knows what might not

have happened. Nevertheless, it is always a fresh pang to me when I

see how he cherishes a bitter feeling against you--for, in spite

of everything, I respect and love him.

“Take good care of yourself, dearest Quintus, till we meet again,

soon, on the shores of the Tiber. Greet your circle from me, and

particularly lively Lucilia. I remember her fresh, frank nature

with special affection.”

The third letter, also addressed to Quintus, was from Lucius

Norbanus,[109] the captain of the praetorian guard.[110]

“Have you taken root in your horrid country villa”--so wrote the

officer in his rough fun--“or have you drowned, in Vesuvian wine,

all remembrance that there is such a place as the Roman Forum?

How I envy you your unbridled wild-horse-like liberty! You live

like the swallows, while I--it is pitiable! Day after day at my

post, and for the last few weeks leading a perfect dog’s life!

Almost a third of the legion are new recruits, for again every

hole and corner seems haunted. Today, I breathe again for the

first time, but alas! my best friends are still absent. Above all

Clodianus,[111] who lately has never been allowed to leave Caesar’s

side. I am commissioned by our charmer Lycoris, to inform you

that Martial’s recitation[112] on the sixteenth of October is

proceeding to admiration. A hundred epigrams, and half Rome lashed

by them! The banquet, which is to close the recitation, is to be

magnificent. I can take her word for it; we know our fair Gaul.

Farewell!”

“That is capital!” said Quintus, folding up the letter. Lucilia retired

with her adopted father’s letter to the sleeping-rooms, where Claudia

and Octavia must by this time be up. Quintus went into the atrium and

sat down by the fountain, to wait till Caius Aurelius should appear.

FOOTNOTES:

[98] MURAENAE (μύραινα). Lampreys were esteemed a delicacy (Cic.,

Plin., _Hist. Nat. etc._) The best came from the Lucrine lake,

near Cumae.

[99] A CLIENT IN HIS PATRON’S HOUSE. The clients were originally

protégées, faithful followers of their lords (_patroni_) who

on their part were obliged to aid them by word and deed. They

represented in a certain degree an enlargement of the family

circle. Afterwards this relation degenerated into a mercenary

connection of the most pitiful kind. Under the emperors the

clients usually became only poor parasites, in comparison

with their rich masters. They formed their court, paid them

the usual morning-visit at a very early hour, accompanied

them wherever they went in public, and received in return a

ridiculously small compensation in money or goods.

[100] MARTIAL. M. Valerius Martialis, born at Bilbilis in Spain,

about 43 A.D. was famous for his witty and clever epigrams.

The 1,200 which have been preserved are the principal source

of the history of manners and customs of the period in which

the scene of this story is laid. He died about the year 102.

[101] L. NONIUS ASPRENAS held the office of consul with M.

Arricinius Clemens in the 14th year of Domitian’s reign, (94

A.D.) and therefore was still in office “last autumn.”

[102] APPIAN WAY. The _Via Appia_, built by one of the Claudia gens

(the Censor Appius Claudius Caecus, 312 B.C.) led from Rome

across Capua to Brundisium (the modern Brindisi). Statius

(_Silv._ II, 12), calls it the queen of roads (_regina

viarum_). A large portion of its admirable pavement, as well

as the ruins of the tombs on its sides, exist at the present

day.

[103] HEALTH AND BLESSINGS! The Romans always began their letters by

mentioning the writer’s name, who wishes health and blessings

to the person addressed. Thus the commencement of the letter

given here, literally interpreted, should have run as follows:

TITUS CLAUDIUS MUCIANUS WISHES HIS LUCILIA, Health and

Blessings. _T. Claudius Mucianus Luciliae suae, S.P. D._

[104] CENTENNIAL FESTIVAL. A brilliant spectacle in the arena, the

amphitheatre, etc., which, as its name implies, was celebrated

every hundred years. Domitian, however, disregarded the

necessity of an interval of a hundred years, by reckoning, as

Suetonius (_Dom._ 4) relates, from the one before the last,

which took place under Augustus, instead of from the very

last, that was celebrated in the reign of Claudius. In this

romance the time of the Domitian centennial festivities is

placed somewhat _later_ than they really occurred.

[105] ALBANUM. Domitian (Suet. _Dom._ 4) had an estate at the foot

of the Albanian Hills, and many rich Romans had summer villas

near, forming at last the town now called Albano.

[106] PALATINE. Palatium, the imperial palace on the Palatine Hill.

The word “palace” is derived from “Palatium,” as “Kaiser”

comes from “Caesar.”

[107] NAZARENES. The name usually given to Christians, who, for

a long time were regarded by the Romans as a Jewish sect.

See the words of Dio Cassius (LXVII, 16): “who inclined

to Judaism,” where he refers to the Christians, who were

persecuted under Domitian.

[108] M. COCCEIUS NERVA from Narnia in Umbria, born 32 A.D., a

senator.

[109] LUCIUS NORBANUS. See Dio Cass., LXVII, 15.

[110] PRAETORIAN GUARD. The commander-in-chief’s tent in the Roman

camp, was called the praetorium; and from this the general’s

body-guard received the name of _cohors praetoria_. Augustus

transferred this title to the imperial guard, and established

nine Praetorian cohorts, (each consisting of a thousand men)

which were stationed, some in Rome and some in the rest of

Italy. The cohorts in Rome were at first quartered among the

citizens; afterwards they had barracks of their own (_castra

praetoria_) on the opposite side of the Quirinal Hill. They,

with the Praetorian cavalry, formed the imperial guard and

body-guard. Compared with the other soldiers, they had many

privileges, for instance a shorter time of service, higher

pay, higher rank, etc.

[111] CLODIANUS. See Suet, _Dom._ 17.

[112] RECITATION. The custom universally prevailed of poets reciting

their verses to a select circle, before they were published.