He was, of course, born at the time when Augustus had already established peace and order in the State and had strengthened the power of Rome, but his father had told him less of Augustus, who was considered petty and mean, and more of Marcus Antonius, who sometimes stood at the speaker’s platform in the forum so drunk that, inflamed by his own words, he was forced intermittently to vomit into a bucket beside him. That was at the time when they still used to appeal to the people. Augustus had won the respect of the Senate and the pea-ple of Rome during his all too long reign, hut life in Rome had, at least according to Barbus’ father, become considerably duller than before. No one had really loved the cautious Augustus, but the dashing Antonius was liked for his faults and his gifted lightheartedness.
But I was already familiar with Barbus’ stories, which my father would perhaps have considered unsuitable for my ears had he known about them. The mausoleum of Augustus delighted me with its wonderfully simple richness, and over and over again we walked right across Rome to look at it. But naturally I was also tempted to Mars field for the noble youth of Rome, where the sons of senators and knights were already busy practicing for the equestrian games at the centenary festivities. Enviously I watched them grouping, separating at signals from a horn and then regrouping again. I knew about all this and knew that I could control a horse just as well, if not better, than they.
Among the spectators to the equestrian games there were always several anxious mothers, for the noble youths were of all ages between seven and fifteen. The boys naturally pretended not to recognize their mothers, but snarled angrily if one of the smallest fell from his horse and the mother, frightened and with flapping mantle, rushed up to save him from the horse’s hooves. Naturally the smallest had quiet and well-exercised horses which soon stopped to protect whoever had fallen from the saddle. They were certainly not wild warhorses these Romans were riding. Ours in Antioch were much wilder.
Among the spectators, I once saw Valeria Messalina with her brilliant following, and I looked at her curiously. Of course I did not go near her, but from a distance she did not seem as beautiful as I had been told. Her seven-year-old son, whom Emperor Claudius had named Britannicus in honor of his victories in Britain, was a thin pale boy who was obviously afraid of the horse he was riding. He should really have been riding in the lead in these games because of his descent, but this was impossible because his face swelled and his eyes ran as soon as he mounted a horse. After every practice his face had turned scarlet with rash and he could scarcely see ahead of him because of his swollen eyes.
Pleading that the boy was too young, Claudius named Lucius Domitius, son of his niece Domitia Agrippinas, as leader. Lucius was not yet ten but he was quite different from the timid Britannicus, strongly built for his age and a fearless rider. After the practice, he often remained behind alone and did daredevil feats to win the applause of the crowd. He had inherited the reddish hair of the Domitius family, so he liked to take off his helmet during practice to show the people this sign of his ancient and fearless family. But the people praised him more because he was the nephew of Emperor Claudius than because he was a Domitius, for then he had the blood of both Julia, the daughter of Julius Caesar, and Marcus Antonius in his veins. Even Barbus was spurred on to shout in his coarse voice both benign and indecent gibes at him, making the people howl with laughter.
His mother, Agrippina, was for her part said not to dare come and watch the riding practices as the other mothers did, for she was afraid of Valeria Messalina’s envy. Warned by the fate of her sister, she avoided appearing in public as much as possible. But Lucius Domitius did not need his mother’s protection. He won the admiration of the crowd unaided with his boyish conduct. He controlled his body well, moved beautifully and his eyes were bold. The bigger boys did not seem to envy him, but subjected themselves quite willingly to his command during the exercises.
I leaned against the worn polished fence and watched the riding longingly. But my free existence soon came to an end. My father found a dismal tutor of rhetoric who sarcastically corrected every single word I spoke and apparently deliberately made me read aloud from nothing but dull books on self-control, humility and manly deeds. My father seemed to have an infallible gift for appointing tutors who drove me out of my mind.
While the house was being repaired, Barbus and I had a room on the upper floor which was impregnated with the smell of incense and had magical symbols on the walls. I did not take much notice of them, for I thought they had been there since the time of Manilius the astronomer. But I began to sleep badly because of them and have dreams, so that I woke to the sound of my own screams, or Barbus had to wake me up as I whimpered in a nightmare. My tutor also soon tired of the noise and the sound of hammers, and began to take me to the lecture rooms at the baths.
I found his thin limbs and round yellow stomach repugnant, and even more so when, in the middle of his sarcasms, he began to stroke my arms and talk about how in Antioch I must have made acquaintance with Greek love. He wanted me to move into his room with him on the top story of a wretched house in Subura while our house was being repaired. One had to climb a ladder to get there and he would then be able to instruct me undisturbed and familiarize me with a life of wisdom.
Barbus noticed his intentions and gave him a serious warning. When he did not heed it, Barbus finally gave him a beating. This frightened him so much, he no longer even dared go to my father for his salary. On our part, we dared not tell my father the real reason why he had vanished from our sight. My father presumed that I, by being so stubborn, had displeased an eminent scholar. We quarreled and I said, “Let me have a horse instead, so that I can get to know some other boys in Rome and have the company of others like myself and learn their customs.”
“A horse was your downfall in Antioch,” remarked my father. “Emperor Claudius has proclaimed a sensible new edict in which an old or otherwise decrepit senator or knight in the procession can lead his horse by the bridle without mounting. One has to carry out, in name only, the military service the office demands.”
“But at least give me enough money,” I said quickly, “so that I can make friends among actors, musicians and circus people. If I mix with them, I can get to know the effeminate Roman boys who avoid military service.”
But my father did not like this either.,
“Aunt Laelia has already warned me and says that a youngster like you shouldn’t be without company of your own age for too long,” he admitted. “While seeing to my affairs, I have met a certain shipowner and grain dealer. Now, after the. famine, Emperor Claudius is havifig a new harbor built and will pay compensation for grain ships which founder. On the advice of Marcius the fisherman, I have bought shares in these ships, for one no longer runs such a risk, and some people have already made a fortune by just re-equipping old ships. But the habits of these newcomers are such that I have no desire for you to mix with them.”