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_ 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 Chio, 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. Poppaea mentions her at
times yet; but Caesar'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 Baile. 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 Bai~,
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 itto
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 Caesar 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 Ach~a. 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 amdng 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, Osiis,
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 teror. 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 elegantiae arbiter, but as a man without whose counsel and
taste the expedition to Achaea 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 Chionides 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!" _
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