PETRONIUS to VINICIUS:
"Thy case is a bad one, carissime. It is clear that Venus has disturbed thy mind,
deprived thee of reason and memory, as well as the power to think of aught else
except love. Read some time thy answer to my letter, and thou wilt see how
indifferent thy mind is to all except Lygia; how exclusively it is occupied with her,
how it returns to her always, and circles above her, as a falcon above chosen
prey. By Pollux! find her quickly, or that of thee which fire has not turned into
ashes will become an Egyptian sphinx, which, enamored, as 'tis said, of pale isis,
grew deaf and indifferent to all things, waiting only for night, so as to gaze with
stony eyes at the loved one.
"Run disguised through the city in the evening, even honor Christian houses of
prayer in thy philosopher's company. Whatever excites hope and kills time is
praiseworthy. But for my friendship's sake do this one thing:
Ursus, Lygia's slave, is a man of uncommon strength very likely; hire Croton, and
go out three together; that will be safer and wiser. The Christians, since
Pomponia and Lygia belong to them, are surely not such scoundrels as most
people imagine. But when a lamb of their flock is in question they are no triflers,
as they have shown by carrying away Lygia. When thou seest Lygia thou wilt not
restrain thyself, I am sure, and wilt try to bear her away on the spot. But how wilt
thou and Chilonides do it? Croton would take care of himself, even though ten
like Ursus defended the maiden. Be not plundered by Chio, but be not sparing of
money on Croton. Of all counsels which I can give this is the best one.
"Here they have ceased to speak of the infant Augusta, or to say that she
perished through witchcraft. Poppaea mentions her at times yet; but Caesar's
mind is stuffed with something else. Moreover, if it be true that the divine Augusta
is in a changed state again, the memory of that child will be blown away without
trace. We have been in Naples for some days, or rather in Baile. If thou art
capable of any thought, echoes of our life must strike thy ear, for surely Rome
talks of naught else. We went directly to Bai~, where at first memories of the
mother attacked us, and reproaches of conscience. But dost thou know to what
Ahenobarbus has gone already? To this, that for him even the murder of his
mother is a mere theme for verses, and a reason for buffoonish tragic scenes.
Formerly he felt real reproaches only in so far as he was a coward; now, when he
is convinced that the earth is under his feet as before, and that no god is taking
vengeance, he feigns them only to move people by his fate. He springs up at
night sometimes declaring that the Furies are hunting him; he rouses us, looks
around, assumes the posture of an actor playing the role of Orestes, and the
posture of a bad actor too; he declaims Greek verses, and looks to see if we are
admiring him. We admire him apparently; and instead of saying to him, Go to
sleep, thou buffoon! we bring ourselves also to the tone of tragedy, and protect
the great artist from the Furies. By Castor! this news at least must have reached
thee, that he has appeared in public at Naples. They drove in from the city and
the surrounding towns all the Greek ruffians, who filled the arena with such a vile
