Quintus Claudius, Volume 1

“How happy I feel!” said Cornelia. “Quintus, my dear love, what more has the world to offer us? If it will only leave us undisturbed, so that we may enjoy the gifts of the gods in peace! But you are very silent, my dearest; must I wake you from your dreams with a kiss? Has happiness struck you dumb? Only think – before the year is out I shall be your wife! Yes, your wife; and I may call you my own forever. I need never give you up again, as I must now, when every hour of happiness ends in a parting.”

She clung fondly to him, and looked into his face with radiant devotion. Her eyes glowed with feeling, and the fair marble of her throat and arms gleamed so softly bright, that Quintus, overcome by the inspiration of the moment, clasped her passionately in his arms, and their lips met in a long and eager kiss.

“Cornelia – fairest and dearest of mortal creatures!” he whispered tenderly, as she released herself, “you draw the very soul out of my body with your perfect, heaven-sent love! Oh! my sweetheart, I too can picture no purer or more noble delight, than that of living one in spirit and hope with you. Aye, Cornelia, I am weary of the bustle of this fevered world, of the vacuous comedy of ambition, of dominion, of all this parcel-gilt vulgarity. I long for rest and solitude in a peaceful home. I ask no splendor, no pomp of triumphs, nor lictors with their fasces. I only want to be at peace with myself – I only seek that glorious harmony, which reconciles all the discords of life. And that peace, that respite and rest, I hope to find with you, my sweetest Cornelia.”

“My whole being, body and soul, are yours,” replied Cornelia. “Do what you will with me. If love can bring peace, your hopes must certainly be fulfilled. But tell me, my dearest, do you really so utterly contemn fame and glory? Will you never make any effort to attain what, merely as a Claudian, you must desire: the triumph of an immortal name? Are peace and the joys of love so absolutely antagonistic to the winning of laurels? Do not yet abandon the post, where the gods have placed you. Be all they have created you to be: a son of that glorious race, which, not so long ago, gave us an Emperor! You know me well, my dearest; you know I would worship you still, even if the Fates deprived you of all – everything; if you were a fugitive, a beggar, scorned, hated, I am still and forever yours. But, as it is, you are rich and noble, and why should I deny, that fame and pomp and splendor have a charm for me? Even the outward gifts of fortune are bestowed by the gods, and the best thanks we can offer is to enjoy.”

“Nay, do not misunderstand me, sweet soul! I do not wish to retire into the desert like an eastern penitent, nor to fling away the last drinking-cup like the philosopher of Sinope.384 It is only empty and fruitless activity that I long to escape, the mad whirl of a life which swallows men up to the very last fibre, and leaves them not a second for reflection. It is only from afar, that you know that heart and brain-consuming turmoil. Cinna is one of those who contemn it, and you have grown up under his roof. But I see it close, and I shudder at the sight. Is it worth while to have lived at all, when our last hour only cuts the thread of a tissue of follies? To what end this hollow, noisy and bewildering drama? There would be more consolation and refreshment in studying the inside of an ant-hill.”

“You are so serious,” said Cornelia. “What can be the matter with you? You used to say things like this, but only as a man out of conceit with his surroundings. And now you look so strange, so mysterious…”

“You are right, dear heart; I am too grave for so sweet an-hour. Forgive me, my darling. In time you will know better what it is, that I … I cannot explain to you at present.”

And he drew her once more to his breast, and kissed her passionately.

Aurelius and Claudia had behaved with far greater coolness and propriety. Behind this moderation, it is true, lurked an unrest which now and again betrayed itself in small details. As the Batavian, by way of opening the conversation, tried to paint the particular beauties of the autumn season, a faint flush mounted to his brow, and Claudia made some observations on the noble dimensions of three pumpkins in a voice that trembled, as though she were craving some favor from Caesar. Both were in that mood of self-conscious confusion, which is peculiar to lovers in anticipation of an important explanation. And Claudia was still more obviously embarrassed, when Caius Aurelius observed that such gourds grew at Trajectum too.

“It might happen,” he went on after a pause, “that circumstances might require me to return home sooner, than I at first intended…”

Claudia pulled the leaves off an olive-branch.

“That would be a pity,” she said in a constrained tone. Then she colored, and went on eagerly: “For, in fact, many interesting features of our metropolis are still unknown to you.”

“Oh,” replied Aurelius, “I am not particularly devoted to seeing features of interest. What I far more regret, is taking leave of so many excellent friends, so many hospitable houses where I have passed hours of delightful intercourse, and heard so many noble ideas…”

“Ah, yes, of course,” said Claudia, breaking the olive-twig into little pieces. The Batavian sighed.

“Above all,” he went on, “I can never forget how kindly your illustrious father received me…”

“Oh!” exclaimed Claudia.

“And your mother… You cannot imagine how deeply I reverence that noble matron, how grateful I am to her for allowing me daily admission and intimacy in her house. Ah! sweet mistress, how happy I have been in that family circle! Your brother, I may venture to believe, has become my best and truest friend; even Lucilia, who generally is so severely critical, has not been unkind to me… You may laugh at me, but I swear to you, that when I am forced to leave I shall leave a piece of my heart behind!”

Claudia looked down and walked on in silence, her hand shook.

“Madam,” the young man went on, and his voice trembled with agitation, “when I am gone – forever, when miles of land and sea divide us – will you sometimes think with kindness of the stranger…? Will you recall the hour in which we met, our happy days at Baiae, and this blissful time in Rome…?”

“Indeed I shall,” Claudia murmured almost inaudibly.

They had now reached the southern end of the broad walk, where a brick wall was visible through a screen of shrubs; the patches of light, which the sun cast on the gravel through the leaves, were visibly aslant to the left, and the observation struck Aurelius to the heart; from the register afforded by this natural time-keeper, he perceived that the best of the day had slipped by unused. He was suddenly seized with a kind of panic: these rays of light symbolized his happiness. It was escaping him, vanishing fast – he must lose it, if he did not then and there find some spell to command and keep it.

He stood still.

“Listen!” he said with an effort. “I cannot help it… Before I go, I must ask you a question. I almost feel as though I could foresee the answer. – It is all the same, I must speak. Only one thing I would beg beforehand: Do not laugh at my blind self-deceit. You know me – I am neither highly gifted nor of noble birth, but I have a faithful nature and a heart full of never-failing devotion – and you are the object of that devotion. Therefore I must ask: could you bear to make up your mind to be my wife? I ask no promise, Claudia, no binding vows – only a word to give me hope, a single word of comfort and encouragement. If you can, oh Claudia, speak it! If you cannot, at any rate I shall be free from the anguish of uncertainty.”

Claudia had listened to him in rigid silence, but as he ended, she gave him her hand – looked up in his face – and smiled through her tears. Aurelius stood in speechless surprise; he tried to speak, but in vain. This transcendent happiness seemed to have paralyzed his powers.

“You dear, foolish man,” said Claudia with glowing cheeks. “What have I done, that you should put a poor girl like me to the blush? I, who have looked up to you in all humility…”

“Claudia!” cried the Batavian, trembling with rapture. “Am I not cheated by a dream? You – mine? I am delirious – raving.”

“Nay, it is the truth. I am yours now and till death.”

“Quintus, Claudia, Cornelia,” shouted a clear, girlish voice, “are you playing at hide-and-seek? or has some tricky god turned you all into trees? Come forth, Fauns385 and Dryads!386 The couches are ready in the triclinium, and a banquet is prepared, that is worthy of Olympus.”

Aurelius did not seem particularly interested in the information. How gladly would he have dreamed away the remainder of the day out here under the verdurous shade! But society asserts its rights, and love, particularly when it is a secret, must early learn to take patience.

“Let us be prudent and say nothing of this,” said Claudia as they went in. “My father has certain schemes in his head, as perhaps you know – he has not spoken out about them as yet, but Lucilia told me she was sure of it, and Lucilia has eyes like a Pannonian lynx.387 Sextus Furius, the senator – you know him – wants, they say, to make me his wife, and my father is not averse to it. We shall have a fight for it, dear Caius…”

“And you say it as calmly…”

“Shall I worry beforehand over things I cannot prevent? But I will do my utmost to win my father over. He is stern, but he loves me, and for his daughter’s happiness he would make a sacrifice – a sacrifice I say advisedly, for you know how strictly he adheres to his principles, and one of his principles is a prejudice against the class of knights…”

“And if your hopes deceive you – if all is in vain?”

“Then I remember that the old saying: ‘Where you, Caius, are, there will I, Caia, be’388 is a pledge no less sacred than obedience to parents; and I too am of the race of Claudius!”

They had reached the open plot in front of the house, where Cneius Afranius was standing with Lucilia and his mother, cutting ripe grapes into a basket with a sharp knife. Dressed in a flowered tunic, the city lawyer was humming the air of a Gaulish popular song; every now and then he interrupted himself with a cry of surprise at the huge size of the grapes, or a jesting word to the young girl, and all the time his jolly pleasant face, ruddy with the exertion and with the October sun, shone like a living tribute to Bacchus.

“There!” he exclaimed, as Quintus and Cornelia also appeared upon the scene, “now, a few leaves, and men Zeuxis389 himself could not paint a prettier picture! Aha! here are our peripatetic390 philosophers! Come along, our country dining-room is quite ready! Come, Quintus, and see if Fabulla’s spelt porridge and cabbage sprouts391 are to your liking; I am credibly informed too, that there is a fish salad with chopped eggs and leeks. Such a cybium392 as my mother makes, you have never tasted. Even the great Euphemus, with all his art, must yield to that triumph of culinary skill. Walk in, most worshipful company, walk in, for here too the gods abide!”

1

The publisher of this translation has, for the reader’s convenience, placed all the notes at the foot of the pages containing the corresponding text.

2

Trireme. “Three-oared;” a vessel with three ranks of rowers, one above another. The time was given by the beats of a hammer or by word of command; not unfrequently by an air played on a flute or a sailor’s chant (cantus nauticus).

3

Posidium, now called the Punta della Licosa, south of the Gulf of Salerno.

4

Capreae, (Isle of goats) now Capri.

5

Puteoli. An important port in Campania, now Pozzuoli. Concerning Puteoli’s commerce, see Stat. Silv. III, 5, 75.

6

Apollonius of Tyana in Cappadocia. An ascetic and ecstatic philosopher and miracle-worker (A.D. 50) often compared with Christ by heathen writers. (Philostratus wrote his life.)

7

Ivory map. Sketch-maps of various routes were common in ancient times, and were often engraved on wine-jars, cups, etc.

8

Tunic. The short-sleeved under-garment worn by both sexes, the house costume, over which men, when they went out, threw the toga, women the stola or palla. During the period of the empire a second garment, the tunica interior, corresponding to the shirt of modern times, was worn under the tunic.

9

The palace of Tiberius. For an account of the cruel and extravagant proceedings of Tiberius at Capri, see Tacitus Ann. I, 67, Suet. Tib. 40, Juv. Sat. X, 72 and 93. Insignificant remains of this palace are visible at the present day: Villa di Timberio; the perpendicular cliff 700 feet high is called il salto (the leap.)

10

Castor and Pollux. Leda’s twins, the Dioscuri, were the patrons of sea-faring men.

11

Wax-tablet (tabula cerata). A little tablet covered with wax, on which memoranda were written with the stylus. In the schools the wax-tablet supplied the place of the slate, and in daily life was a substitute for our note-book.

12

Freedman. The institution of slavery (servitium) which existed from ancient times, was an extremely important factor in the organization of Roman society. The slaves (servi) were the absolute property of their masters, who had unlimited control over their destinies and lives. (This right was not withdrawn until A.D. 61, when the law of Petronius prohibited the arbitrary condemnation of slaves to combats with wild beasts, etc.) The slave could then be released by the so-called manumissio, and was styled libertus or libertinus. His position depended upon the greater or less degree of formality with which the manumissio was granted. The most solemn manner bestowed all the rights of the free-born citizen, but even in this case he was socially burdened with the same stigma that rests upon the emancipated slaves in the United States. If a freedman attained power and influence – which under the emperors was very common – the haughty representatives of the ancient noble families paid him external respect, it is true, but the man’s origin was never forgotten.

13

Trajectum. A Batavian city in the Roman province Germania, now Utrecht.

14

Gades. A city in southern Spain, the modern Cadiz.

15

Panormus. A city on the north coast of Sicily, the modern Palermo.

16

Corybas. In the plural Corybantes; priests of Cybele. Their worship was a wild orgy with war-dances and noisy music. (Horace, Od. I, 16, 8: non acuta si geminant Corybantes aera, etc.)

17

Ostia. The port of Rome, situated at the mouth of the Tiber.

18

Massilia. An important city founded by the Greeks on the southern coast of Gaul, now called Marseilles.

19

Rugii. A German race occupying a considerable part of the coast of the Baltic – the present Pomerania and island of Rügen.

20

Frisii. A German race settled in the northern part of what is now Holland and farther east beyond Ems (Amisia).

21

Breakfast. The first meal after rising was called jentaculum. In the time of the republic (and still later among the poorer classes) it consisted principally of pulse. Among the wealthy luxury intruded even here; but in comparison with the second breakfast (prandium) and especially with the principal repast (coena) the jentaculum always remained frugal.

22

Ram’s-head at the prow. These ornaments were usually carved in wood on the prow. They must not be confounded with the ship’s beaks (rostra, ἕμβολα). These beaks – two strong iron-cased beams – were on the fore-part of the ships of war and also on vessels intended for long voyages, where they would be exposed to danger from pirates. They were beneath the surface of the water, and were destined to bore holes in the enemy’s ships. See vol. 2, Chap IX.

23

Magus. A Gothic word – (not the Latin Magus, Greek μάγος – magician, sorcerer,) – means a boy, or knave in the old sense of servant.

24

Parthenope. The ancient name of Naples, from the siren Parthenope, who is said to be buried there.

25

Vesuvius. The famous eruption, which buried the three cities mentioned, took place A.D. 79, that is, sixteen years before the commencement of this story.

26

Baiae, now Baja, the most famous watering-place of ancient times. See Horace, Ep. I, 1, 83.

27

Aenaria and Prochyta, now Ischia and Procida.

28

Alexandria in Egypt was, in point of commerce, the London of ancient times.

29

Tarentine travelling-cloak. The woollen stuffs from Tarentum, now called Taranto, were famous.

30

"Hva gasaihvis?“ – ”Gasaihva leitil skip." Literally: What do you see? (I) see (a) little ship. The earliest existing specimens of Gothic date from several centuries later than the time of this story, namely the period when the Goths left their original settlements on the lower Vistula and settled farther to the southeast on the Black Sea. I thought it permissible, however, to make a Goth of the first century speak the language of Ulfilas, since there is nothing against it in the general analogies of language, and Gothic, in the form in which it remains to us, is so concrete and logical in its structure, that it is hardly credible that it should have varied to any great extent within a period of two or three centuries.

31

Batavia. It was the custom at a very early date to name vessels after towns, persons, or countries, etc.

32

Amulet. A faith in the protecting power of charms and amulets was universal among Roman women, and children were always provided with amulets against the evil eye.

33

Isis. The Egyptian goddess Isis was originally a personification of the Nile country, and as such was the wife of Osiris, the god of the Nile, who is slain by Typhon and longingly sought by the deserted goddess. She was afterwards confounded with every conceivable form of Greek (See Appuleius. Met. XI, 5.) and Roman Mythology and thus in the first century after Christ became the principal goddess. Her worship was chiefly by women.

34

Waxen Ship. Such votive offerings are commonly mentioned. They were generally painted pictures, but models in wax or metal were also given.

35

Nile-Water. The worshippers of Isis ascribed a special power to the waters of the Nile.

36

Sesterces. A Roman silver coin worth about 4 or 5 cents.

The second order, the knights (equites), was scattered over the whole empire. A class specially designated for military service, it became in the time of the Gracchi, a body of rich men, each of whom possessed a fortune of 400,000 sesterces, and also fulfilled the conditions of being of free birth and descent, blameless reputation, and refraining from dishonorable or indecorous methods of making money. Loss of this fortune, whether by their own fault or otherwise, entailed loss of rank. In consequence of the confusion and dissolution of all legal regulations through the civil war, these conditions were largely abrogated. While many who had formerly been entitled to belong to the order of knights, lost their rank through loss of fortune, others, who though possessing the needful property, had none of the other requisites, assumed without opposition the external distinctions of the knights, especially the gold ring and the seat of honor in the theatre. (Friedlander.) There were various degrees of rank in the order of knights, and also great diversity of fortune. Besides the poor titular knights, there were bankers, wholesale merchants, and the directors and members of great commercial companies and societies for mercantile enterprises of every kind.

The third order comprised mechanics, small tradesmen, tavern-keepers, learned men, artists, etc., etc., – except in cases where those who followed these pursuits were slaves, – and also the immense body of proletarians, who subsisted almost exclusively on public alms.

37

Roman Knight. During the reign of the emperors the free population of Rome was divided into three orders: senators, knights, and people (third order). The order of senators was limited to Rome, and in its hands lay the real political power, which in the time of the republic had been exercised by the assembled populace. To the senate belonged the right of conferring and recalling sovereign power, that is, by appointing and deposing the emperors, a right rarely exercised, it is true, but which the emperors formally recognized by allowing themselves to be confirmed by the senate. In their relation to this body, the emperors were only first among their peers, the members of this order being really their equals; a relation which, with the exception of Caligula, Nero, Domitian, and Commodus, the emperors during the first two centuries, more or less earnestly endeavored to maintain. (Friedlander. Rom. Sittengesch. I, 3.) The number of the old senatorial families was comparatively small.

38

My Lord Said the Matron. Concerning the address “lord” (domine), see the minute discussions in Friedlander’s Sittengeschichte, I, appendix. It was not so common as the modern “sir,” but was used as an expression of special courtesy in the most varied relations of life. The emperors themselves used it in intercourse with persons to whom they wished to show attention. Thus Marcus Antoninus writes to Fronto: “Have, mi domine magister.” According to Seneca (Ep. III, 1.) it was already customary under Nero to greet persons, whose names could not be instantly remembered, by this title, in order not to appear uncourteous under any circumstances. The Fronto just mentioned calls a son-in-law “domine,” and when Nero once played the cithara in public, he addressed the spectators as “mei domini.”

Nay, the association of domine with the name, which to our ears has a very modern sound, is often found. Thus in Appuleius (Met. II,) we read: "Luci domine," – “Lord Lucius.” In this story, however, this association is avoided, as it might have produced the semblance of an anachronism. In accosting women domina (lady) corresponds with domine. The French, when referring to subjects connected with ancient Rome, reproduce the sound as well as the meaning of the word correctly by their madame (meam dominam).

39

Titus Claudius Mucianus. The Romans usually had three names. Titus is here the first name (praenomen) which was given sons on the ninth day after their birth. Claudius is the name of the gens, the family in the wider sense of the word (nomen gentilicium). Mucianus is the cognomen, the surname, the name of the immediate family (stirps or familia). Thus several stirpes belonged to a single gens. Daughters bore only the name of the gens; for instance the daughter of Titus Claudius Mucianus was called Claudia. If there were two of them, they were distinguished by the words major (the elder) and minor (the younger); if there were several, by numbers. The Claudia Gens was a very ancient and famous one. The principal characters of the story, belonging to the stirps Muciana, are purely imaginary.

40

Gavius Apicius, the famous Roman gourmand (Tac. Ann. IV, 1) who finding that he had only two million and a half denari left in the world (about 400,000 dollars) killed himself, thinking it impossible to live on so little.