Quintus Claudius, Volume 1. Eckstein Ernst
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.103 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!104 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,105 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,106 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 Palatine107 against the Nazarenes.108 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 Nerva109 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.
The third letter, also addressed to Quintus, was from Lucius Norbanus,110 the captain of the praetorian guard.111
“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,112 who lately has never been allowed to leave Caesar’s side. I am commissioned by our charmer Lycoris, to inform you that Martial’s recitation113 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.
CHAPTER V
The day of their departure came. Aurelius had hailed the idea of travelling with his new friends with an eagerness, that had brought a saucy smile to the lips of the shrewd Lucilia. But he had nevertheless preferred the more comfortable sea-voyage to a journey by land, and he had urged it so pressingly and yet so modestly that Octavia, after some hesitation, had yielded.
The second hour after sunrise114 had been fixed for their start, and before daybreak the slaves were already busied in packing the baggage mules and preparing the litters in the forecourt. The noise and bustle aroused Quintus, and being unable to get to sleep again he rose, dressed for the journey, and went out to the pillared court, where Lucilia was overlooking the slaves at their work and urging the dilatory to haste in cheerful tones.
“Restless being!” said Quintus in Greek: “Are you pursued by the gadfly of Juno,
Appian way. The
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.
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 (
Albanum. Domitian (Suet.
Palatine. Palatium, the imperial palace on the Palatine Hill. The word “palace” is derived from “Palatium,” as “Kaiser” comes from "Caesar.”
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.
M. Cocceius Nerva from Narnia in Umbria, born 32 A.D., a senator.
Lucius Norbanus. See Dio Cass., LXVII, 15.
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
Clodianus. See Suet,
Recitation. The custom universally prevailed of poets reciting their verses to a select circle, before they were published.
The second hour after sunrise. The Romans divided the day, from sunrise to sunset, into twelve hours. These were of course shorter in winter than in summer. The events spoken of in this chapter are supposed to have taken place about the time of the equinox, so ‘the second hour’ would be between seven and eight. The night, between sunset and sunrise, was likewise divided into four vigils or watches of three hours each.