Refits his shattered bark, and braves
Once more the vext Icarian waves,
as Horace has it.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the captain, “we are like the politician who is always, I am told, forswearing public affairs, and always meddling with them again. And after all we must do something to live. It isn’t every one that has all that he wants without earning it.”
“Ah, you have me there,” returned the great man with a smile. “But where are you now? [74] When I made my journey back from the place you know of, I asked the captain about you, but he could tell me nothing.”
“I am captain and part owner of a wheat ship, one of the Alexandrian fleet.”
“And it is just what you like, I hope?”
“Well, it might be better and it might be worse. But I don’t complain. You see, I am not a philosopher.”
Seneca laughed. “My dear friend,” he said, “you are a little hard on me. But you know the wise man is always himself except when he has a bad cold, and, I think one might add, except when he is seasick. But I can’t wait; I am due at my pupil’s in a very short time. But come and dine with me to-morrow, and bring with you your friend, if he can put up with a philosopher’s fare. Will you do me the honour of introducing him?”
“Caius Vestinius, a centurion in the watch,” said the captain.
“You will be welcome, sir,” said Seneca. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance. We are not half grateful enough to you gentlemen, whose courage and diligence enable us to sleep sound in our beds. On the third day, then, at four o’clock; you will excuse the lateness of the hour, but I am a busy man.”
[75] With a courteous gesture of farewell he stepped into his litter and was carried off.
“That is a very polite person,” said Vestinius, as the two resumed their journey. “But I am scarcely disposed to go. I shall be out of my element in such grand company.”
“Nonsense!” said the captain. “There is nothing particularly grand about him as far as I can see. And besides, you must bear me company. It is not for a brave soldier to desert his friend.”
The rest of the day was spent in jovial fashion, and it was only when Vestinius was ordered out again on duty that the two friends parted.
IN THE CIRCUS, AND AFTERWARDS
[76] ON the day that followed the events described in the last chapter, the popular discontent was displayed at the games in the Circus. Some pains had been taken to make them more imposing and attractive than usual. The wild beasts exhibited were the finest and rarest varieties; some performing elephants were to exhibit their choicest feats, carrying a sick comrade, for instance, in a litter on a tight rope stretched across the arena; some favourite gladiators were advertised as about to contend. But all these attractions failed to conciliate the multitude. The Emperor headed the procession in order to give further eclat to the show. He was received, however, with sounds suspiciously like a hiss, and when his ministers passed, a deafening shout of “Bread! bread! Give us our bread!” arose on every side. The Emperor, who knew, and, indeed, [77] was allowed to know, very little of what was going on in Rome, was not a little frightened at the demonstration, and for that reason all the more angry. When he was brought to take an interest in anything outside his dining-hall and his libraryhe was as great a glutton of books as of daintieshe could show himself both capable and energetic. His ministers were not unprepared for the rare occasions on which their master asserted himself. They bent before the storm, which would soon, they knew, blow over, and leave them to follow their usual intrigues in peace.
“What is this about bread?” cried Claudius.
Narcissus explained that wheat had risen greatly in price, and that it had been necessary to diminish the allowance made to the ticket-holders. The explanation did not explain anything to the imperial mind. If Claudius had ever felt the want of money, and it is quite possible that he had in the days before he came to the throne, he had forgotten all about it. His ministers carefully kept all matters of finance from his knowledge, and he had simply no idea of there being any limit to what the treasury could or could not do.
“I don’t understand what you mean,” he cried. “My Romans must have as much bread as they want. It is not for the Augustus to [78] chaffer about how many denarii are to be paid for this wheat that is wanted. I suppose that I have money enough.”
“Certainly, sire,” answered Narcissus, with a low bow. “Everything shall be arranged according to your Highness’ pleasure. But meanwhile will you please to proceed to your place and give the signal for the Games to commence. Afterwards, if you will condescend to listen, I will set the whole case before you, and we shall then have the advantage of your counsel.”
The Games, which it is not necessary to describe, passed over without any untoward incident, though the populace was obviously in a very bad humour. One or two unsuccessful and unlucky gladiators received a death sentence which they would probably have escaped had the masters of their fate been better content with themselves and the world. The comic business of the spectacles moved very little laughter, and their splendours very little admiration. But the whole passed over without any positive outburst, and the authorities felt that they had at least obtained a reprieve.
It was clear, however, that no time was to be lost, and a council in which the situation was to be discussed, and if possible dealt with, was to be held that very day. The Roman hours for busi- [79] ness were very early, and it was only a very great emergency that could be held to justify so late an hour for meeting as the time fixed, 4 p.m. The Emperor, who was for once genuinely interested in the affairs of the presentthe affairs of the past could always attract his attention, if they were sufficiently remote and obscuretook the hastiest meal that he had ever had in his life, without complaint, and presided in person. The first business was to make a statement of the affairs of the treasury. It was not complete, such statements seldom are, but it was quite sufficient to show the Emperor that the state of things was serious. It came upon him as a surprise; he had always entertained a belief, quite vague and unfounded, but never questioned, that the public purse was inexhaustible. His only idea now was to sell the gold plate of the palace. The ministers received the suggestion with due respect and complimented the Emperor on his generosity and self-sacrifice.
He was a true father of his country, who was willing to give up anything rather than that his people should suffer. They were equally complimentary when he suggested that he should give a public recitation, tickets for which should be sold at five gold pieces each. This idea was put off, for some sufficiently plausible reason. Then [80] Narcissus gave his advice, introducing it with the usual assurance of submission to the superior wisdom of the Emperor. The substance of what he said was, that in his judgment the difficulty was temporary, sufficiently serious indeed to demand prompt remedyhe was too sagacious to minimize a matter about which Claudius, he saw, was very anxiousbut not beyond treatment by temporary measures. There was scarcity, but it would pass away. Meanwhile those who had wealth ought to put a sufficient portion of it at the service of the State for immediate uses. “I will give,” he went on, “two million sesterces.” (Footnote: About ?160,000.) The sum sounded imposing, but to any one who knew the circumstances of the case, it was but a small fraction of the wealth which, by means more or less nefarious, the donor had stolen out of the public revenue. Still it had a magnificent sound. Pallas, who was supposed to be his equal, if not his superior, in wealth, followed with the offer of a similar sum. Two other officials who had had fewer opportunities, though equal desire, for plunder, named smaller amounts. At this point the Prefect of the Praetorians broke in with a suggestion of a more radical policy. He praised the munificence of the freedmen, though he contrived in doing it to convey the idea which we [81] know to have been perfectly in accord with the truth, that they were but giving back a part of what they had received or taken. “But,” he went on, “their gifts will only help us for a time; we must remove, if we can, the cause of the evil. And what is the cause? I say that it is the avarice and rapacity of the Jews. Rome has never been the same since they began to settle here, and the more of them come, the poorer she grows.”