Lucius now knitted his brows and said:
“But I must know, Vettius. I order you to tell me what has happened—for something has happened—I order you to tell me and I swear not to kill you.... Has it to do with the quadrireme, a mutiny among the rowers?”
“Worse than that, my lord!” wailed Vettius.
“Has there been a theft of our baggage or jewels or plate?”
“Worse, my lord, much worse!”
“Has there been a fire at our insula in Rome? Is the villa burned down?”
“Worse, worse, my lord!” Vettius and Rufus now cried in chorus.
And they flung themselves at Lucius’ feet and embraced his knees; and Uncle Catullus fell sobbing on Thrasyllus’ breast.
“But what is it? By all the gods, speak up!” cried Lucius, in a fury. “What is it? Speak up, or I will have you whipped till you do!”
“We will tell you, my lord!” Vettius and Rufus now cried.