Chapter XVIII

PETRONIUS to VINICIUS:

“Thy case is a bad one, carissime. It is clear that Venus has disturbed

thy mind, deprived thee of reason and memory, as well as the power to

think of aught else except love. Read some time thy answer to my letter,

and thou wilt see how indifferent thy mind is to all except Lygia; how

exclusively it is occupied with her, how it returns to her always, and

circles above her, as a falcon above chosen prey. By Pollux! find her

quickly, or that of thee which fire has not turned into ashes will

become an Egyptian sphinx, which, enamored, as ‘tis said, of pale Isis,

grew deaf and indifferent to all things, waiting only for night, so as

to gaze with stony eyes at the loved one.

“Run disguised through the city in the evening, even honor Christian

houses of prayer in thy philosopher’s company. Whatever excites hope

and kills time is praiseworthy. But for my friendship’s sake do this one

thing: Ursus, Lygia’s slave, is a man of uncommon strength very likely;

hire Croton, and go out three together; that will be safer and wiser.

The Christians, since Pomponia and Lygia belong to them, are surely not

such scoundrels as most people imagine. But when a lamb of their flock

is in question they are no triflers, as they have shown by carrying away

Lygia. When thou seest Lygia thou wilt not restrain thyself, I am

sure, and wilt try to bear her away on the spot. But how wilt thou and

Chilonides do it? Croton would take care of himself, even though ten

like Ursus defended the maiden. Be not plundered by Chilo, but be not

sparing of money on Croton. Of all counsels which I can give this is the

best one.

“Here they have ceased to speak of the infant Augusta, or to say that

she perished through witchcraft. Poppæa mentions her at times yet; but

Cæsar’s mind is stuffed with something else. Moreover, if it be true

that the divine Augusta is in a changed state again, the memory of that

child will be blown away without trace. We have been in Naples for some

days, or rather in Baiæ. If thou art capable of any thought, echoes of

our life must strike thy ear, for surely Rome talks of naught else. We

went directly to Baiæ, where at first memories of the mother attacked

us, and reproaches of conscience. But dost thou know to what Ahenobarbus

has gone already? To this, that for him even the murder of his mother is

a mere theme for verses, and a reason for buffoonish tragic scenes.

“Formerly he felt real reproaches only in so far as he was a coward;

now, when he is convinced that the earth is under his feet as before,

and that no god is taking vengeance, he feigns them only to move people

by his fate. He springs up at night sometimes declaring that the Furies

are hunting him; he rouses us, looks around, assumes the posture of an

actor playing the role of Orestes, and the posture of a bad actor too;

he declaims Greek verses, and looks to see if we are admiring him. We

admire him apparently; and instead of saying to him, Go to sleep, thou

buffoon! we bring ourselves also to the tone of tragedy, and protect the

great artist from the Furies. By Castor! this news at least must have

reached thee, that he has appeared in public at Naples. They drove in

from the city and the surrounding towns all the Greek ruffians, who

filled the arena with such a vile odor of sweat and garlic that I thank

the gods that, instead of sitting in the first rows with the Augustians,

I was behind the scenes with Ahenobarbus. And wilt thou believe it, he

was afraid really! He took my hand and put it to his heart, which was

beating with increased pulsation; his breath was short; and at the

moment when he had to appear he grew as pale as a parchment, and his

forehead was covered with drops of sweat. Still he saw that in every row

of seats were pretorians, armed with clubs, to rouse enthusiasm if the

need came. But there was no need. No herd of monkeys from the environs

of Carthage could howl as did this rabble. I tell thee that the smell of

garlic came to the stage; but Nero bowed, pressed his hand to his heart,

sent kisses from his lips, and shed tears. Then he rushed in among us,

who were waiting behind the scenes, like a drunken man, crying, ‘What

were the triumphs of Julius compared with this triumph of mine?’ But the

rabble was howling yet and applauding, knowing that it would applaud to

itself favors, gifts, banquets, lottery tickets, and a fresh exhibition

by the Imperial buffoon. I do not wonder that they applauded, for such a

sight had not been seen till that evening. And every moment he repeated:

‘See what the Greeks are! see what the Greeks are!’ From that evening

it has seemed to me that his hatred for Rome is increasing. Meanwhile

special couriers were hurried to Rome announcing the triumph, and we

expect thanks from the Senate one of these days. Immediately after

Nero’s first exhibition, a strange event happened here. The theatre fell

in on a sudden, but just after the audience had gone. I was there, and

did not see even one corpse taken from the ruins. Many, even among the

Greeks, see in this event the anger of the gods, because the dignity of

Cæsar was disgraced; he, on the contrary, finds in it favor of the

gods, who have his song, and those who listen to it, under their evident

protection. Hence there are offerings in all the temples, and great

thanks. For Nero it is a great encouragement to make the journey to

Achæa. A few days since he told me, however, that he had doubts as to

what the Roman people might say; that they might revolt out of love for

him, and fear touching the distribution of grain and touching the games,

which might fail them in case of his prolonged absence.

“We are going, however, to Beneventum to look at the cobbler

magnificence which Vatinius will exhibit, and thence to Greece, under

the protection of the divine brothers of Helen. As to me, I have noted

one thing, that when a man is among the mad he grows mad himself,

and, what is more, finds a certain charm in mad pranks. Greece and the

journey in a thousand ships; a kind of triumphal advance of Bacchus

among nymphs and bacchantes crowned with myrtle, vine, and honeysuckle;

there will be women in tiger skins harnessed to chariots; flowers,

thyrses, garlands, shouts of ‘Evoe!’ music, poetry, and applauding

Hellas. All this is well; but we cherish besides more daring projects.

We wish to create a species of Oriental Imperium,--an empire of

palm-trees, sunshine, poetry, and reality turned into a dream, reality

turned into the delight of life only. We want to forget Rome; to fix the

balancing point of the world somewhere between Greece, Asia, and Egypt;

to live the life not of men but of gods; not to know what commonness is;

to wander in golden galleys under the shadow of purple sails along the

Archipelago; to be Apollo, Osiris, and Baal in one person; to be rosy

with the dawn, golden with the sun, silver with the moon; to command,

to sing, to dream. And wilt thou believe that I, who have still sound

judgment to the value of a sestertium, and sense to the value of an

as, let myself be borne away by these fantasies, and I do this for the

reason that, if they are not possible, they are at least grandiose and

uncommon? Such a fabulous empire would be a thing which, some time or

other, after long ages, would seem a dream to mankind. Except when

Venus takes the form of Lygia, or even of a slave Eunice, or when art

beautifies it, life itself is empty, and many a time it has the face

of a monkey. But Bronzebeard will not realize his plans, even for this

cause, that in his fabulous kingdom of poetry and the Orient no place is

given to treason, meanness, and death; and that in him with the poses

of a poet sits a wretched comedian, a dull charioteer, and a frivolous

tyrant. Meanwhile we are killing people whenever they displease us in

any way. Poor Torquatus Silanus is now a shade; he opened his veins a

few days since. Lecanius and Licinus will enter on the consulate with

terror. Old Thrasea will not escape death, for he dares to be honest.

Tigellinus is not able yet to frame a command for me to open my veins.

I am still needed not only as elegantiæ arbiter, but as a man without

whose counsel and taste the expedition to Achæa might fail. More than

once, however, I think that sooner or later it must end in opening my

veins; and knowest thou what the question will be then with me?--that

Bronzebeard should not get my goblet, which thou knowest and admirest.

Shouldst thou be near at the moment of my death, I will give it to thee;

shouldst thou be at a distance, I will break it. But meanwhile I have

before me yet Beneventum of the cobblers and Olympian Greece; I have

Fate too, which, unknown and unforeseen, points out the road to every

one.

“Be well, and engage Croton; otherwise they will snatch Lygia from thee

a second time. When Chilonides ceases to be needful, send him to me

wherever I may be. Perhaps I shall make him a second Vatinius, and

consuls and senators may tremble before him yet, as they trembled before

that knight Dratevka. It would be worth while to live to see such a

spectacle. When thou hast found Lygia, let me know, so that I may offer

for you both a pair of swans and a pair of doves in the round temple of

Venus here. Once I saw Lygia in a dream, sitting on thy knee, seeking

thy kisses. Try to make that dream prophetic. May there be no clouds on

thy sky; or if there be, let them have the color and the odor of roses!

Be in good health; and farewell!”