“You may rejoice that it is so in such times of anarchy. Order in the city is now at an end, none are safe unless attended by armed slaves; and, by the Gods! no man is quite safe even from his own slaves.”
“What did my mother say to that?”
“She sighed and said—” there was a twinkle in Lamia’s eye, “that she was glad the disturbances were taking place now, as at no time could they have happened so happily, when she was obliged to live in retirement.”
“Lucius, what do you think will be the end?”
“That the gods alone can tell. At present the soldiers are masters in the State, and the Senate proclaims whomsoever they set up. Rome is dishonored in the face of the Barbarians.”
“What think you, my Lucius,—shall we ask the Chaldee if he can unveil the future?”
“Not of the State, Domitia, that were too dangerous. Women have lost their lives, or been banished on such a charge. No, do not risk it.”
“Nay, Lucius, like my mother, the State concerns me only so far as its affairs affect my own silly little interests. But I do want to know something of my future. Elymas is reputed to look into destiny. He hath glimpses beyond the strain of a philosopher’s eye. I have offended him by my quips and objections, and would humor him now by asking him to read in the stars, or where he will, what the gods have in store for me.”
“I believe not in such vision.”
“Nor I greatly, Lucius. Yet I heard say that he had prognosticated evil on the day my dear father set foot in Cenchræa.”