“His ship will take care of itself. He can come with us in the travelling chariot, and then he will be able to see part of the Appian way.[102] It is a thousand times more interesting than a sea-voyage.—Now, do it to please me and turn the conversation on the subject at dinner to-day.”
“If you like,” said Quintus.
A slave now appeared on the threshold of the passage, which led from the peristyle to the atrium.
“My lord,” he said: “Letters have arrived from Rome—and for you too, Madam....”
“Then bring them out here.”
They were three very dissimilar letters, that Blepyrus handed to the two young people. Lucilia’s was from the high-priest of Jupiter; Titus Claudius Mucianus wrote as follows to his adopted daughter:
“Health and Blessings![103] I promised you lately, through Octavia, your excellent mother, that my next letter should be addressed to you, my dear daughter. I know that you value such proofs of my fatherly remembrance, and I am glad that it should be so. However, what I have to write does not concern you alone, my sweet Lucilia, but all of you. The preparations for the magnificent Centennial Festival,[104] which the Emperor Domitian—as you know—proposes to hold in the course of next year, have so completely taken up my time during the last few weeks, that I am sorely in need of the rest and comfort of regular family life. In addition to this, political disturbances of all kinds have occurred. Caesar has sent for me six times to Albanum,[105] and I assure you it has been incessant travelling to and fro. The matter is an open secret; all Rome is discussing the decrees from the Palatine[106] against the Nazarenes.[107] You may remember that superstitious sect of whom Baucis spoke to you—a revolutionary faction, who, a score or so of years since, stirred up the whole city and gave occasion for the stern enactments of the divine Nero? Now again they are stirring up revolt as if they were mad; they are shaking the very foundations of society, and threaten to overturn all that we have till now held most sacred. I must be silent as to personal affairs; enough to say that I am weary and overwrought, and that my heart longs to see you all again. I beg you therefore to make ready to start and return as soon as possible to the City of the Seven Hills. Your mother is now tolerably well again—thanks to all-merciful Jupiter—and Quintus will not be vexed to learn that Cornelia is now staying in Rome again. People are quitting their country homes somewhat early this year; it is long since I have passed the month of September so endurably. I shall expect you then, at latest, by Tuesday in next week. Allowing three days for the journey, I thus give you two days to prepare for it.
“Pray greet your mother and your sister lovingly from me. This letter will, I hope, find you all in perfect health. I, for my part, am quite well.
“Written at Rome, on the 11th September, in the year 848 after the building of the city.”
The second letter was from Cornelia, Quintus’ betrothed, and ran as follows: