‘Nonsense, kinsman! Do you think we of Surrentum know not better than to believe an idle tale such as that? Do you think we are not better acquainted with our neighbours in Capreae, at our very doors here, than to be affrighted at such an ogre’s fable as yours? I will both set foot on the island and see Caesar to boot. Is it not often done by the folk along the coast here, whenever business demands?’
‘And who never return. What of the dozens who are tortured and strangled and flung to the sharks by the blood-thirsty old hermit?’
‘Would the people ever continue to go if that were the case?’
‘Do you say none are treated in the way I say?’
‘There may be some so unlucky if they have offended; and Caesar is somewhat harsh and imperious as tyrants often are. But I am a neighbour and a Surrentine, and can make a fair reason for permission to go into Caesar’s presence—I have no fear or uneasiness. Stercus of the vineyard up there, frequently goes to Capreae and enters the Imperial presence.’
‘By Hercules! I would I had known this before,’ quoth Cestus eagerly; ‘would it be possible for me to do the same thing?’
‘I should not like to say,’ answered Masthlion, shaking his head; ‘strangers, from a distance, seem to be out of favour on the island. We natives have more license. Why, I know not; but strangers—especially those who go without authority, or business—will most likely rue their boldness. If you, a Roman, were to make a visit, out of sheer curiosity, you would, most likely, meet with rough handling.’
‘Humph, then there is some advantage in being a Surrentine and not a Roman,’ said Cestus ironically.
‘So it would seem, in this instance,’ replied the potter.
‘Then you may claim it with pleasure. It is hardly worth [pg 277]having when it includes the probability of becoming a meal for the fishes. And even what I have heard the Surrentines themselves say of old Tiberius, gives me no better relish for him than I had before. Therefore I say, don’t go! Take your wares to a safer market. Even suppose you were safe enough in the ordinary way of things, as a native, a little matter might upset the Imperial humour—a slip, a word, heaven knows what! The royal humour might be upset even before you had the first chance at it, and then what next? What glass pot would save you then?’