“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, Fauns[384] and Dryads![385] 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.[386] 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’[387] 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 Zeuxis[388] himself could not paint a prettier picture! Aha! here are our peripatetic[389] philosophers! Come along, our country dining-room is quite ready! Come, Quintus, and see if Fabulla’s spelt porridge and cabbage sprouts[390] are to your liking; I am credibly informed too, that there is a fish salad with chopped eggs and leeks. Such a cybium[391] 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!”