Disaster for Lucius
"Door! Door!"
I struggled into full consciousness as Cartimandua sat up.
"Lord, there is someone calling at our door."
"Let Antiochus deal with it," I grumbled, smothering a yawn.
"I think it is voice of your friend," Cartimandua prodded me.
I listened to the sounds of Antiochus - or someone - struggling with the bolts and bars on the door. There was a brisk but quiet conversation and then footsteps came down the hall and halted outside my room.
"Little lord," Antiochus whispered, "Are you awake, little lord?"
"Yes," I whispered back. "What is it?"
"It is your friend, little lord, the lord Lucius."
"Lucius!" I leaped from the bed and fumbled for my chiton. "Tell him I'm coming. What time is it?"
"It is the second watch, little lord."
Antiochus padded away towards the door and I pulled my chiton on any old how and followed him. Framed in the open doorway I could see the silhouette of my friend, which only increased the puzzle. What was he doing out without a torchbearer?
"Lucius! Is everything all right?"
At least half the answer came as I approached. The atmosphere by the door positively reeked of wine.
"Arxeessh." Lucius' voice was slurred and indistinct. "Ol' frien'."
"Help me in with him."
I grabbed one arm and Antiochus took the other. Together we half-carried Lucius into the hall and sat him down on the doorkeeper's stool.
"What on earth have you been celebrating?" I demanded.
"No' ce - ce - what you said." Lucius protested. "Broken, Arxeessh. Comple - comple - completully broken."
"What's broken? And, by all the gods, don't speak so loud. It's the middle of the night."
Already Cartimandua had dressed and come out into the hall and if Lucius carried on talking at the top of his voice it wouldn't be long before the whole household was astir.
"My heart." Lucius began to sob. "My hear'. Broken."
He suddenly pitched forward and Antiochus and I had to catch him before he collapsed onto the floor. He sagged limply between us and began to snore.
"Well!" I said. "We won't get any more out of him tonight, that's for sure. Where can we put him?"
Antiochus suggested one of the couches in the dining room, but Cartimandua pointed out that he might roll off it and hurt himself. We finally spread a rug for him in the hallway and stretched him out on that.
"Get a torch, Antiochus. You'd better go round to his father's house and let them know where he is. They might even bring a litter and collect him." I slipped the ring off my middle finger and gave it to him. "If a patrol stops you, you can show this as your authority to be out so late."
"Yes, little lord. Right away, little lord."
"Come on, Cartimandua. Let's see if we can get back to sleep."
It was at least half an hour later - and I hadn't slept a wink the whole time - that Antiochus returned and knocked softly on the wall beside my door.
"Yes, Antiochus?"
"Here is your ring, little lord."
Antiochus stepped into the room and put my ring in my outstretched hand.
"Are they sending anyone?"
"No, little lord. I spoke to Demeas, the doorkeeper. He told me that lord Lucius and his father had a terrific quarrel earlier in the evening and the slaves say that Lucius has been thrown out of the house by his father."
"Good gracious!" I could sense that Cartimandua was awake and listening as intently as I was. "What did they quarrel about?"
"Demeas said that it was about some girl, little lord. Both lord Lucius and lord Varro want the same woman, little lord."
"Mysticus!" I exclaimed. "Ok, Antiochus. We'll choke the whole story out of Lucius in the morning. Thanks."
It was nearer mid-day than morning by the time Lucius was awake enough to talk. We carried him into my room once the slaves were about and Cartimandua looked in on him from time to time. When he finally surfaced and had been washed and dressed in a spare chiton, I tackled him on the subject.
"I did it all wrong," Lucius groaned. "I intended to talk reasonably to my father but he snapped at me and told me I was only a silly boy and I lost my temper a bit and one thing led to another. He ordered me out of the house and I said I was only too glad to go and never wanted to come back and then I went down to a tavern near the Odeion and got drunk. I'm sorry for waking you all up last night."
"What are you going to do now?" I wanted to know.
Lucius shrugged. "I don't know."
"You can go home?" I asked, assailed by a sudden suspicion.
Lucius shrugged again. "I don't know."
"Come on," I said, getting to my feet. "I think we'd better go and have a word with my father. It sounds like you are in real trouble."
Father listened to our tale in silence, impressed, I think, by the grim look on Lucius' face. When we finished he put both hands on his knees and looked at us.
"Well, I was afraid that it might come to this. As you know, Lucius, I promised to talk to the girl's father. I don't know him all that well, so I got a friend of mine who does to undertake the errand for me and I believe that he was most persuasive. Unfortunately when Mysticus' father approached your father, Lucius, your father insisted that a contract was a contract and wouldn't budge."
"So my father knew all along?" Lucius looked stunned. "I thought he had been acting a little strangely towards me lately."
"Again, I don't know your father all that well, but councillor Mnesilochus does. I'll go right away and see if he can plead254 for you. You boys wait here in the shop and keep an eye on things for me. Arxes, that Lydian cloth isn't to go for less than thirty drachma a cubit."
When my father came back he wasn't smiling and I felt my own heart sink at the sight of his face. I didn't dare look at Lucius to see how he was taking it.
"Good and bad news, I'm afraid." My father sat down and gestured to us to come closer. "The bad news, Lucius, is that your father says that as you yourself chose to leave home you can stay away until, as he put it, you have grown up. I gather that he has a long rather than a short period of time in mind."
Lucius swallowed hard. As a Roman he couldn't show his feelings, but I could tell that he was pretty upset.
"The good news is that he hasn't abandoned you completely. He bids you go and live on his estate in Apulia. As he put it, you can learn estate management first hand instead of in school. Now I've been thinking;" my father raised his hand to forestall whatever Lucius might have been going to say. "I want to try and expand my business over in Italy. I have some contacts in Rome already, but it would be good to try further north. I'm told there are all sorts of business opportunities now that Gaul is safe. Arxes, if Lucius will agree, would you like to visit Rome and travel around some of the big cities and try and drum up a bit of trade for your old dad? Lucius can be your guide in Italy and, if you do decide to go as far as Gaul, your girl can help you with the local language. What do you say?"
My first impulse was to jump at the offer - well, who wouldn't prefer travelling around and seeing the world to going to school? - but then the thought of all that responsibility daunted me. On the other hand, Lucius was so keen on the idea that I allowed myself to be persuaded without too much trouble.
"Well," Lucius finally said, "Thank you, sir. I'm most grateful for all your trouble. Now I'm off to say farewell to Scapha while I've still got a few drachma in my pocket. Care for a walk, Arxes?"
"Sure, why not?" my father said. "Here, Arxes. Twenty drachma, wasn't it?"
He counted out the coins and handed them to me with a wink. I took them mechanically, my mind racing. The prospect of meeting Charite again was attractive and exciting, but Paul's words about 'one flesh' still rang in my ears. I was one flesh with Cartimandua; could I become one flesh with Charite if I wanted to worship the Christos?
Up at the Artemision Lucius disappeared in search of Scapha and I took the coward's way out. I went onto the terrace overlooking the city, intending to wait there for Lucius and pretend that I hadn't been able to find Charite. The day was clear and I could see right across the blue waters of the gulf to the mountains beyond,255 on which the first snows of autumn were shining. I had barely settled myself comfortably when I heard the soft susseration of bare feet on marble and Charite rested her hand lightly on my arm.
"There you are, Arxes. Scapha's friend told me I would find you here."
I turned and looked at her. I swear that she was twice as beautiful as before, her large eyes framed attractively by her long, curly hair.
"Charite! I wasn't expecting you," I lied.
"Come to worship the goddess, have you?" Charite's grin was impudent and inviting.
"Er, no. Not today."
"What? No money?" Charite pressed my arm to her chest. "Come on, then. I like you. You can pay me later." She winked. "In fact, I don't mind if you forget to pay me at all."
I half rose, allured by the warm scent of her body, and then sat down again. Cartimandua, Paul and the Christos on the one side, Charite on the other.
"No, really, Charite," I stammered. "Not today."
"I thought you liked me," Charite wheedled. "You seemed to, the other night."
"Oh, I do. I do." I could feel the sweat breaking out on my brow. "I like you a lot, but . . . Look, Charite, I've been listening to a man called Paul. He's a philosopher teaching about a new god called the Christos."
I babbled on, telling her about the Christos and Paul's lectures, but it was obvious that I didn't have her attention. She sniffed disparagingly and half-turned from me.
"Oh well, if you've gone and got religion. . ." The scorn in her voice was withering. "Next thing you'll be telling me that you've decided to castrate yourself and dress in women's clothes256 . Come up and join me when you do, I'll let you share my customers."
She let go of my arm and stalked away without a backwards glance. I felt my face burning, particularly when a regular procession of temple girls, sent, I am sure, by Charite, came past, all looking at me and laughing. The two hours before Lucius returned were the longest of my life and I was more than grateful for the discreet silence he preserved as we returned home.
During the next few weeks, which were taken up with preparations for the journey, Lucius lived in our house. He slept with me in my room and when I wanted to visit Cartimandua I had to sneak into the women's quarters after dark just like any illicit lover. His father must have been keeping in touch, however, for just before we left he sent over a sum of money and one of the older slaves to look after him - or possibly to keep an eye on him.
Each Saturday Cartimandua, Lucius, my mother and I went to hear Paul lecture. Mother always took a small amphora of wine as her contribution to the Love Feast, even though Cartimandua was the only one of us who took part. Mother felt that the honour of our house was involved and anyway, it was a pious deed and it was good to show respect for all the gods, including the Christos.
Actually, mother and Priscilla got on well together and long before I left Priscilla was coming round virtually every day. The two women would sit out in the courtyard and spin in the sunshine and talk about all sorts of things, though the Christos seemed to appear in every conversation sooner or later. In fact, as I later discovered, the day I left mother offered my room to Priscilla and she and her husband moved in257 . Our house ended up as a sort of headquarters for the Christians in Corinth, even though my parents were not then followers of the Christos.
254 It was a stock situation among both Greek and Roman dramatists, when the plot seemed like getting out of hand, to have a friend plead with the offended party and effect a reconciliation. For example, at the conclusion of Plautus' A Three-dollar Day (p. 218):
Lysiteles: May I beg a favour of you, sir?
Charmides: It depends what it is.
Lysiteles: Just this: please forgive your son all his follies. You shake your head?
Charmides: I don't know what to say. I'm angry and yet I should be sorry . . .
Lysiteles: Why so?
Charmides: I am angry that my son should disappoint me so; but I should be sorry if my refusing your request made you think I undervalue your kindness. Well, I won't be obstinate. You shall have your way.
255 Strabo, in his Geography VIII.vi.21 describes the view from the Acrocorinth. "From the summit, looking towards the north, one can view Parnassus and Helicon, lofty, snow-clad mountains, and the Crisaean Gulf." Return
256 One of the more extreme religions of the ancient world was the worship of Cybele. This centred around the legend of Attis, whose conclusion is given by Pausanias in his Guide to Greece VII.xvii. "When the boy [Attis] was fully grown his family sent him away to Pessinous to marry the king's daughter; the wedding song was being sung when Agdistis [Attis' father] appeared and Attis went mad and chopped off his private parts and his bride's father did the same."
During the ceremonial procession in honour of Cybele men often went similarly mad and castrated themselves with the swords that were provided for that purpose. They would run through the streets clutching the severed part of their body until they collapsed through exhaustion and loss of blood, when they would throw it into the nearest house. The householder then had to provide the devotee with a set of women's garments which he would afterwards always wear, becoming a "priestess" of the goddess. Return
257 Most households made their own cloth. In Menander's The Girl from Samos, Demeas, one of the characters, says, "While I was in there a woman came downstairs into the room next to the pantry - it's where the weaving's done, in fact." As Arxes' father is a cloth merchant I am assuming that his household doesn't do much weaving. Return
