Chapter 2

The squall had completely died away; the waves were still tossing and
tumbling in the bay, but the streamers of the crowd of barks, which lay
under the shore, hardly fluttered in the breeze, and the fishing-boats
were putting out to sea in little fleets.

Gay and busy was the scene on the quays of Baiae; distinguished
visitors from every part of the vast empire were driving, riding or
walking on the lava-paved[48] sea-wall, and the long roads round the
harbor. Elegantly-dressed ladies in magnificent litters were borne by
Sicambri[49] in red livery,[50] or by woolly-headed Ethiopians.[51]
Lower down a crowd of sailors shouted and struggled, and weather-beaten
porters in Phrygian caps urgently offered their services, while vendors
of cakes and fruit shrilly advertised the quality of their fragrant
goods. Behind this bustling foreground of unresting and eager activity
rose the amphitheatre of buildings that composed the town. Aurelius
had been charmed with Panormus and Gades, but he now had to confess
that they both must yield the palm in comparison with this, the finest
pleasure-resort and bathing-place in the world. Palace was ranged above
palace, villa beyond villa, temple above temple. Amid an ocean of
greenery stood statues, halls, theatres and baths;[52] as far round as
the promontory of Misenum the shores of the bay were one long town of
villas, gorgeous with the combined splendors of wealth, and of natural
beauty.

The two ladies and their cortège proceeded for some distance along
the shore of the harbor, and then turned up-hill in the direction
of Cumae.[53] In front walked eight or ten slaves[54] who cleared
the way; then came Octavia, her litter borne by six bronze-hued
Lusitanians.[55] Claudia shared her litter with Baucis, while
Herodianus, Magus, Octavia’s rowers, and a few servants with various
bundles followed on foot. Aurelius had mounted his Hispanian horse and
rode by the side of the little caravan, sometimes in front, sometimes
behind, and enquiring the way, now of Octavia and now of Claudia and
Baucis.

“Our villa is quite at the top of the ridge,” said Claudia. “There,
where the holm oaks come down to the fig gardens.”

“What?” cried Aurelius in surprise. “That great pillared building, half
buried in the woods to the left?”

“No, no,” said the girl laughing; “the gods have not housed us so
magnificently. To the right--that little villa in the knoll.”

“Ah!” cried the Batavian; the disappointment was evidently a very
pleasant one. “And whose is that vast palace?”

“It belongs to Domitia, Caesar’s wife. Since she has lived separate
from her imperial lord, she always spends the summer here.”

The road grew steeper as they mounted.

“Oh merciful power!” sighed the worthy Baucis, “to think that these
fine young men should be made to toil thus for an old woman! By
Osiris! I am ashamed of myself. To carry you, sweet Claudia, is indeed
a pleasure--but me, wrinkled old Baucis! If I had not sprained my
ribs--as sure as I live...! But I will reward them for it; each man
shall have a little jar of Nile-water.”

“Do not be uneasy on their account,” said Herodianus, wiping his brow.
“Our Northmen are used to heavier burdens!” Then, turning to Magus, he
went on: “By all the gods, I entreat you--a draught of Caecubum![56] I
am bound to carry this weary load,” and he slapped his round paunch,
“this Erymanthian boar,[57] like a second Hercules, to the top of the
hill on my own unaided legs! and I am dropping with exhaustion.”

The Goth smiled and signed to one of the slaves, who was carrying wine
and other refreshments.

“The wine of Caecubus,” said Herodianus, “is especially good against
fatigue. Dionysus,[58] gracious giver, I sacrifice to thee!” and as
he spoke he shed a few drops as a libation[59] on the earth and then
emptied the cup with the promptitude of a practised drinker.

In about twenty minutes more they reached Octavia’s house; in the
vestibule[60] a young girl came running out to meet them.

“Mother, dear, sweet mother!” she cried excitedly, “and Claudia,
my darling! Here you are at last. Oh! we have been so dreadfully
frightened, Quintus and I; that awful storm! the whole bay was churned
up, as white as milk. But oh! I am glad to have you safe again!
Quintus! Quintus!...”

And she flew back into the house, where they heard her fresh, happy
voice still calling: “Quintus!”

“My adopted daughter,”[61] said Octavia, in answer to an enquiring
glance from Aurelius.

“Lucilia,” added Claudia, “whom I love as if she were my own real
sister.”

Aurelius, who had sprung from his horse, throwing the bridle to his
faithful Magus, was on the point of conducting Octavia into the
atrium,[62] when a youth of remarkable beauty appeared in the door-way
and silently clasped this lady in his arms. Then he pressed a long
and loving kiss on Claudia’s lips, and it was not till after he had
thus welcomed the mother and daughter, that he turned hesitatingly to
Aurelius, who stood on one side blushing deeply; a sign from Octavia
postponed all explanation. The whole party entered the house, and it
was not till they were standing in the pillared hall, where marble
seats piled with cushions invited them to repose, that Octavia said to
the astonished youth with a certain solemnity of mien:

“Quintus, my son, it is to this stranger--the noble and illustrious
Caius Aurelius Menapius, of Trajectum, in the land of the Batavi--that
you owe it that you see us here now. He took us on board his trireme,
for our boat was sinking. I declare myself his debtor henceforth
forever. Do you, on your part, show him all the hospitality and regard
that he deserves.” Quintus came forward and embraced Aurelius.

“I hope, my lord,” he said with an engaging smile, “that you will
for some time give us the honor of your company and so give us, your
debtors, the opportunity we desire of becoming your friends.”

“He has already promised to do so,” said Octavia.

Lucilia now joined them, having put on a handsomer dress in honor of
the stranger, and stuck a rose into her chestnut hair; she sat down by
Claudia and took her hand, leaning her head against her shoulder.

“But tell us the whole story!” cried Quintus. “I am burning to hear a
full and exact account of your adventure.”

Octavia told her tale; one thing gave rise to another, and before they
thought it possible, it was the hour for dinner--the first serious meal
of the day, at about noon--and they adjourned to the triclinium.[63]

Under no circumstances do people so soon wax intimate as at meals.
Aurelius, who until now had listened more than he had spoken, soon
became talkative under the cool and comfortable vaulted roof of
the eating-room, and he grew quite eager and vivacious as he told
of his long and dangerous voyage, of the towns he had visited, and
particularly of his distant home in the north. He spoke of his
distinguished father, who, as a merchant, had travelled eastwards
to the remote lands east of the peninsula of the Cimbri[64] and to
the fog-veiled shores of the Guttoni,[65] the Aestui[66] and the
Scandii;[67] indeed Aurelius himself knew much of the wonders and
peculiarities of these little-visited lands, for he had three times
accompanied his father. Many a time on these expeditions had they
passed the night in lonely settlements or hamlets, where not a soul
among the natives understood the Roman tongue, where the bear and the
aurochs fought in the neighboring woods, or eternal terrors brooded
over the boundless plain.

These pictures of inhospitable and desert regions, which Aurelius so
vividly brought before their fancy, were those which best pleased
his hearers. Here, close to the luxurious town, and surrounded by
everything that could add comfort and enjoyment to life, the idea
of perils so remote seemed to double their appreciation.[68] When
they rose from table the ladies withdrew, to indulge in that private
repose which was customary of an afternoon. Lucilia could not forbear
whispering to her companion, that she would far rather have remained
with the young men--that Aurelius was a quite delightful creature,
modest and frank, and at the same time upright and steady--a rock in
the sea on which the Pharos of a life’s happiness might be securely
founded.

“You know,” she added earnestly, while her eyes sparkled with
excitement from under her thick curls, “Quintus is far handsomer--he is
exactly like the Apollo in the Golden House[69] by the Esquiline. But
he is also like the gods, in that he is apt to vanish suddenly behind
a cloud, and is gone. Now Aurelius, or my soul deceives me, would be
constant to those he loved. It is a pity that his rank is no higher
than that of knight, and that he is so unlucky as to be a native of
Trajectum.”

“Oh! you thorough Roman!” laughed Claudia. “No one is good for anything
in your eyes, that was not born within sight of the Seven Hills.”[70]

She put her arm round her gay companion, and carried her off
half-resisting to their quiet sleeping-room.

Neither Quintus nor Aurelius cared to follow the example of the
ladies--not the Roman, for he had slept on late into the day--nor the
stranger, for the excitement of this eventful morning had fevered
his blood. Besides, there was the temptation of an atmosphere as of
Paradise, uniting the glory and plenitude of summer with the fresh
transparency of autumn. During dinner Aurelius had turned again
and again to look through the wide door-way at the beautiful scene
without, and now he crossed the threshold and filled his spirit with
the loveliness before him. Here was not--as in the formal gardens of
Rome[71]--a parterre where everything was planned by line and square;
here were no trained trees and hedges, circular beds or clipped shrubs.
All was free and wholesome Nature, lavish and thriving vitality. The
paths alone, leading from the villa in three directions into the wood,
betrayed the care of man. The whole vegetation of the happy land of
Campania seemed to have been brought together on the slope below. Huge
plane-trees, on which vines hung their garlands, lifted their heads
above the holm-oaks and gnarled quinces. The broad-leaved fig glistened
by the side of the grey-green olive; here stood a clump of stalwart
pines, there wide-spreading walnuts and slender poplars. Below them
was a wild confusion of brush-wood and creepers; ivy, periwinkle and
acanthus entangled the giants of the wood with an inextricable network.
Maiden-hair hung in luxuriant tufts above the myrtles and bays, and
sombre evergreens contrasted with the brilliant centifolia. In short
the whole plant-world of southern Italy here held an intoxicating orgy.
Quintus seemed to divine the thoughts of the young Northman, and put
his hand confidingly through his guest’s arm, and so they walked on,
taking the middle path of the three before them, and gently mounting
the hill.

“I can see,” said Quintus, “that you are a lover of Nature; I quite
understand that a garden at Baiae must seem enchanting to you, who came
hither from the region of Boreas himself, where the birch and the beech
can scarcely thrive. But you can only form a complete idea of it from
the top of the hill; we have built a sort of temple there and the view
is unequalled....”

“You are greatly to be envied,” said Aurelius. “And how is it that
Titus Claudius, your illustrious father, does not enjoy himself on this
lovely estate, instead of living in Rome as I hear he does?”

“As priest to the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus[72] he is tied to the
capital. The rules forbid his ever quitting it for more than a night
at a time. Dignity, you see, brings its own burdens, and not even the
greatest can have everything their own way. Many a time has my father
longed to be away from the turbulent metropolis--but no god has broken
his chains. Unfulfilled desires are the lot of all men.”

He spoke with such emphasis, that the stranger glanced at him.

“What desire of yours can be unfulfilled?”

A meaning smile parted the Roman’s lips.

“If you are thinking of things which gold and silver will purchase,
certainly I lack little. Everything may be had in Rome for money;
everything--excepting one thing; the stilling of our craving for
happiness.”

“What do you understand by that?”

“Can you ask me? I, here and as you see me, am a favorite of fortune,
rich and independent by my grandfather’s will, which left me possessed
of several millions at an early age--as free and healthy as a
bird--strong and well-grown and expert in all that is expected of a
young fellow in my position. I had hardly to do more than put out my
hand, to acquire the most influential position and the highest offices
and honors--to become Praetor or Consul.[73] I am well received at
court, and look boldly in the face of Caesar, before whom so many
tremble. I am betrothed to a maiden as fair as Aphrodite herself, and a
hundred others, no less fair, would give years of their lives to call
me their lover for a week--and yet--have you ever felt what it is to
loathe your existence?”

“No!” said Aurelius.

“Then you are divine, among mortals. You see, weeks and months go by
in the turmoil of enjoyment; the bewildered brain is incapable of
following it all--then life is endurable. My cup wreathed with roses,
a fiery-eyed dancer from Gades[74] by my side, floating on the giddy
whirl of luxury, as mad and thoughtless as a thyrsus-bearer[75] at the
feast of Dionysus--under such conditions I can bear it for a while. But
here, where my unoccupied mind is thrown back upon itself....”

“But what you say,” interrupted Aurelius, “proves not that you are
satiated with the joys of life, so much as--you will forgive my
plainness--that you are satiated with excess. You are betrothed, you
say, and yet you can feel a flame for a fiery-eyed Gaditanian. In my
country a man keeps away from all other girls, when he has chosen his
bride.”

“Oh yes! I know that morality has taken refuge in the provinces,”
said Quintus ironically. “But the youth of Rome go to work somewhat
differently, and no one thinks the worse of us for it. Of course we
avoid public comment, which otherwise is anxiously courted--but we live
nevertheless just as the humor takes us.”

Aurelius shook his head doubtfully.

“Well, well,” said Quintus. “You good folks in the north have a
stricter code--Tacitus describes the savage Germanic tribes as almost
equally severe. But Rome is Roman.--No prayers can alter that; and
after all you get used to it! I believe Cornelia herself would hardly
scold if she heard.... Besides, it is in the air. Old Cato has
long, long been forgotten, and the new Babylon by the Tiber wants
pleasure--will have pleasure, for in pleasure alone can she find her
vocation and the justification of her existence.”

“And does your bride live in the capital?” asked Aurelius after a pause.

“At Tibur,” replied Quintus. “Her uncle, Cornelius Cinna, avoids the
neighborhood of the court on principle. The fact that Domitia resides
here is quite enough to make him hate Baiae--although, as you know,
Domitia has long ceased to belong to Caesar’s court.”

Aurelius was silent. Often had his worldly-wise father warned him
never to speak of affairs of state or even of the throne, excepting
in the narrowest circle of his most trusted friends; under the reign
of terror of Domitian, the most trivial remark might prove fateful
to the speaker. The numerous spies, known as delators, who had found
their way everywhere, scenting their prey, had undermined all mutual
confidence and trust to such an extent that friends feared each other;
the patron trembled before his client, and the master before his slave.
Although the manner and address of his host invited confidence, caution
was always on the safe side, all the more so as the young Roman was
evidently an ally of the court party. So the Northman checked the
utterance of that fierce patriotism, which the hated name of Domitian
had so painfully stirred in his soul. “Unhappy Rome!” thought he: “What
can and must become of you, if men like this Quintus have no feeling
for your disgrace and needs?”

The next turn in the path brought them within sight of the little
temple; marble steps, half covered with creepers, led through a
Corinthian portico into the airy hall within. The panorama from this
spot was indeed magnificent; far below lay the blue waters of the bay,
with the stupendous bridge of Nero;[76] farther away lay Baiae with
its thousand palaces and the forest of masts by Puteoli; beyond these,
Parthenope, beautiful Surrentum,[77] and the shining islands bathed
by the boundless sea; the vaporous cloud from Vesuvius hung like a
cone of snow in the still blue atmosphere. To the north the horizon
was bounded by the bay of Caieta[78] the Lucrine lake and the wooded
slopes of Cumae. The foreground was no less enchanting; all round the
pavilion lay a verdurous and luxuriant wilderness, and hardly a hundred
paces from the spot rose the colossal palace of the Empress, shaded by
venerable trees. The mysterious silence of noon brooded over the whole
landscape; only a faint hum of life came up from the seaport. All else
was still, not a living creature seemed to breathe within ear-shot....

Suddenly a sound came through the air, like a suppressed groan;
Aurelius looked round--out there, there where the branches parted in an
arch to form a vista down into the valley--there was a white object,
something like a human form. The young foreigner involuntarily pointed
that way.

“Look there, Quintus!” he whispered to his companion.

“That is part of the Empress’s grounds,” replied the Roman.

“But do you see nothing there by the trunk of that plane-tree? About
six--eight paces on the other side of the laurel-hedge? Hark! there is
that groan again.”

“Pah! Some slave or another who has been flogged. Stephanus, Domitia’s
steward, is one of those who know how to make themselves obeyed.”

“But it was such a deep, heartrending sigh!”

“No doubt,” laughed Quintus; “Stephanus is no trifler. Where his lash
falls the skin comes off; then he is apt to tie up the men he has
flogged in the wood here, where the gnats....”

“Hideous!” cried Aurelius interrupting him. “Let us run down and set
the poor wretch free!”

“I will take good care to do nothing of the kind. We have no right in
the world to do such a thing.”

“Well, at any rate, I will find out what he has done wrong. His
torturer’s brutality makes me hot with indignation!”

So speaking he walked straight down the hill through the brushwood.
Quintus followed, not over-pleased at the incident; and he was very
near giving vent to his annoyance when a swaying branch hit him sharply
on the forehead. But the native courtesy, the urbanity[79] or town
breeding, which distinguished every Roman, prevailed, and in a few
minutes they had reached the laurel-hedge. Quintus was surprised to
find himself in front of a tolerably wide gap, which could not have
been made by accident; but there the young men paused, for Quintus
hesitated to trespass on the Empress’s grounds.

The sight which met his eyes was a common one enough to the blunted
nerves of the Roman, but Aurelius was deeply moved. A pale, bearded
man,[80] young, but with a singularly resolute expression, stood
fettered to a wooden post, his back dreadfully lacerated by a stick or
lash, while swarms of insects buzzed round his bleeding body.

“Hapless wretch!” cried Aurelius. “What have you done, that you should
atone for it so cruelly?”

The slave groaned, glanced up to heaven and said in a choked voice:

“I did my duty.”

“And are men punished in your country for doing their duty?” asked the
Batavian frowning, and, unable any longer to control himself, he went
straight up to the victim and prepared to release him. The slave’s face
lighted up with pleasure.

“I thank you, stranger,” he said with emotion, “but if you were to
release me, it would be doing me an ill-turn. Fresh torture would be
all that would come of it. Let me be; I have borne the like before now;
I have only another hour to hold out. If you feel kindly towards me, go
away, leave me! Woe is me if any one sees you here!”

Quintus now came up to him; this really heroic resignation excited his
astonishment, nay, his admiration.

“Man,” said he, waving away the swarm of gnats with his hand, “are you
a disciple of the Stoa,[81] or yourself a demi-god? Who in the world
has taught you thus to contemn pain?”

“My lord,” replied the slave, “many better than I have endured greater
suffering.”

“Greater suffering--yes, but to greater ends. A Regulus, a Scaevola
have suffered for their country; but you--a wretched slave, a grain
of sand among millions--you, whose sufferings are of no more account
than the death of a trapped jackal--where do you find this indomitable
courage? What god has endowed you with such superhuman strength?”

A beatific smile stole over the man’s drawn features.

“The one true God,” he replied with fervent emphasis, “who has pity on
the feeble; the all-merciful God, who loves the poor and abject.”

A step was heard approaching.

“Leave me here alone!” the slave implored them. “It is the overseer.”

Quintus and Aurelius withdrew silently, but from the top of the copse
they could see a hump-backed figure that came muttering and grumbling
up to where the slave was bound, released him presently from the stake
and led him away into the gardens. For a minute or two longer the young
men lingered under the pavilion and then, lost in thought, returned to
the house. Their conversation could not be revived.

FOOTNOTES:

[48] LAVA BLOCKS. The usual material for pavements in central and
southern Italy.

[49] SICAMBRI. A powerful German tribe, occupying in the time of
Caesar the eastern bank of the Rhine, and extending from the
Sieg to the Lippe.

[50] RED LIVERY. The usual costume of the litter-bearers in the
time of the emperors.

[51] WOOLLY-HEADED ETHIOPIANS. The name Ethiopian Αἰθίοπες in its
more restricted sense, applies to the inhabitants of Upper
Egypt; in a more general meaning to the whole population of
North-eastern Africa, and South-western Asia. According to
Herodotus (VII, 70) the Ethiopians dwelling in the East had
smooth, those in the West woolly hair.

[52] BATHS (_thermae_, θέρμαι, that is “warm baths”) were public
bathing-establishments on the grandest scale, modelled after
the Greek wrestling-schools. See Becker, _Gallus_ III, p. 68
and following.

[53] CUMAE (Κύμη) now Cuma, the oldest of the Greek colonies in Italy,
beyond the mountain range that bounds the bay of Baja on the
west; it is only a few thousand paces from Baja.

[54] IN FRONT WALKED EIGHT OR TEN SLAVES. Such a vanguard was
customary among people of distinction, even when they went on
foot.

[55] LUSITANIANS. A people living in the region now known as
Portugal, between the Tagus (_Tajo_, _Tejo_) and Durius,
(_Duero_, _Douro_.)

[56] CAECUBUM. A district on the shores of the bay of Gaeta,
famous for its wine. See (Horace _Od._ I, 20, 9 and I, 37, 5)
where it is said, that it would be positively sinful to bring
Caecubian wine from the cellar with other kinds on ordinary
occasions (_antehac nefas depromere Caecubum cellis avitis_,
_etc._).

[57] ERYMANTHIAN BOAR. So called from Mt. Erymanthus in Arcadia,
where the animal lived until slain by Hercules.

[58] DIONYSUS. A surname of Bacchus.

[59] LIBATION. Wine poured as an offering to the gods.

[60] VESTIBULUM. The space in front of the house-door (_fores_)
which in the time of the imperial government was frequently
covered with a portico.

[61] ADOPTED DAUGHTER. The adoption of a child in ancient Rome
was regulated by very strict laws. Adoption in its narrower
sense (_adoptio_) extended to persons who were still under
paternal authority; with self-dependent persons the so-called
_arrogatio_ took place. With women this last form was entirely
excluded.

[62] ATRIUM. From the door of the house a narrow passage (_ostium_)
led to the first inner court, the atrium, so-called because
this space, where the hearth originally was, was _blackened_
by the smoke (_ater_). The atrium, which in the more ancient
Roman houses possessed the character of a room with a
comparatively small opening in the roof, and afterwards
resembled a court-yard, was at first the central point
of family life, the sitting-room, where the industrious
house-keeper sat enthroned among her slaves. When republican
simplicity gave way to luxury, the atrium became the hall
devoted to the reception of guests, and domestic life was
confined to the more retired apartments.

[63] TRICLINIUM, (triple couch) really the sofa on which three,
and sometimes even more persons reclined at table; the name
was also given to the dining-room itself, which comprised the
second inner court-yard, the so-called peristyle or cavaedium.

[64] CIMBRIAN PENINSULA, now called Jutland.

[65] GUTTONI. A German race on the lower Vistula.

[66] AESTUI. A German race living on the coast of Revel.

[67] SCANDII. Inhabitants of southern Sweden.

[68] THE SENSE OF CONTRAST was a conspicuous trait in Roman
character. They were wont to heighten their appreciation of
the joys of life by images of death, and the dining-room was
intentionally placed so as to afford a view of tombs.

[69] THE GOLDEN HOUSE (_domus aurea_). The name given to the
magnificent palace of Nero, which extended from the Palatine
Hill across the valley and up again as far as the gardens of
Macaenas on the Esquiline. It contained an enormous number of
the choicest works in statuary. Vespasian had a large part of
this building pulled down.

[70] THE SEVEN HILLS. Contempt for all who lived in the provinces
was peculiar to all Romans, even the lowest classes of the
populace. Thus Cicero says: “_Cum infimo cive romano quisquam
amplissimus Galliae comparandus est?_” (Can even the most
distinguished Gaul be compared with the humblest Roman
citizen?) This prejudice extended to later centuries, though
under the first emperors numerous inhabitants of the provinces
attained the rank of senator and reached the highest offices.
It is very comical, when Juvenal, a freedman’s son, treats the
“knights from Asia Minor,” (_Equites Asiani_) condescendingly,
as if they were intruders, unworthy to unfasten the straps of
his sandals. Inhabitants of the other provinces were held in
higher esteem than the Greeks and Orientals. But even Tacitus
(_Ann._ IV, 3.) regards it as an aggravation of the crime
committed by the wife of Drusus, that Sejanus, for whom she
broke her marriage-vow, was not a full-blooded Roman, but
merely a knight from Volsinii.

[71] THE FORMAL GARDENS OF ROME. The taste of the Romans in regard
to the art of gardening resembled that shown at Versailles.
The eloquence with which individual authors urge a return to
nature (Hor. _Epist._ I, 10, Prop. I, 2, Juv. _Sat._ III,
etc.,) only proves that the opposite course was universal.
Clipping bushes and trees into artificial forms was considered
specially fashionable. Thus Pliny the younger, in his
description of the Tuscan villa (_Ep._ V, 6,) writes: “Before
the colonnade is an open terrace, surrounded with box, the
trees clipped into various shapes; below it a steep slope of
lawn, at whose foot, on both sides of the path, stand bushes
of box, shaped into the forms of various animals. On the level
ground the acanthus grows delicately, I might almost say
transparently. Around it is a hedge of thick closely-clipped
bushes, and around this hedge runs an avenue of circular form,
adorned with box clipped into various shapes, and small trees
artistically trimmed. The whole is surrounded by a wall,
concealed by box.” Then towards the end of the letter: “The
box is clipped into a thousand shapes, sometimes into letters,
that form the name of the owner or gardener.”

[72] JUPITER CAPITOLINUS. The priests of certain divinities were
called _Flamines_ and the chief of these was the _Flamen
Dialis_ or priest of Jupiter--called Capitolinus from the hill
on which the temple stood. Tacitus (_Ann._ III, 71,) tells us
of the prohibition here spoken of.

[73] THE PRAETORSHIP AND CONSULSHIP were still, under the emperors,
an object of ardent desire, in spite of the fact that these
offices had been stripped of all power.

[74] GADES, now Cadiz, was famous for its dancers of easy morality.
(See Juv. _Sat._ XI, 162.)

[75] THYRSUS, (θύρσος) a pole or wand wreathed with vine and ivy
leaves, and borne by Bacchus and by Bacchantes.

[76] BRIDGE OF NERO. One of this emperor’s mad undertakings was the
construction, at an enormous expense, of a perfectly useless
bridge aslant across the bay of Baiae.

[77] SURRENTUM, now Sorrento.

[78] CAIETA, now Gaëta.

[79] URBANITAS. Literally: city training.

[80] A PALE, BEARDED MAN. Wearing beards first became general
under the Emperor Hadrian. At the time of this story it was
still the custom among the higher classes (but not among the
lower ones and the slaves) to shave off the beard after the
twenty-first year.

[81] STOA. The school of the stoics; so named from the pillared
hall (ποικίλη στοά) at Athens, where Zeno, the founder, taught.
The doctrine inculcated was the subjugation of physical and
moral evil by individual heroism.