Caesar traveled, We Titus Petronius followed him afar. According to the going down of the sun slaves put the tent, arranged the bed, we went to feast and fun conversation; at the dawn again set out on the road and sweetly fell asleep in each of its lektike, tired of the heat and nighttime pleasures.
We reached Qom and already thought to indulge further, how to come to us sent by Nero. He brought Petronius commanded Caesar's return to Rome, and there wait for the decision of their fate as a result of the hateful accusations.
We were struck with horror. One Petronius calmly listened to his sentence, He dismissed the messenger with a gift and told us his intention to stay at Kum. He sent his favorite servant, select and hire a house for him and waited for his return to the cypress grove, dedicated Eumenides.
We surrounded him with concern. Flavius Aurelius asked, how long he thought to remain in Kum, and is not afraid Do irritate Nero disobedience?
- Not only did I not think to disobey him, - she replied Petronius, with a smile, - but even I am going to warn him of desire. but you, my friends, I advise you to return. Traveler on a clear day resting under the oak teniyu, but during a thunderstorm from it prudently removed, fear of lightning strikes.
We have all expressed a desire to stay with him, Petronius and thanked us kindly. The servant came back and took us to the house, they have chosen. He was on the outskirts of the city. They ran the old freedman in the absence of the owner, I have long left the Italy. Several slaves under the supervision of care about the cleanliness of rooms and gardens. The wide porch we found idols of the nine muses, in two centaur stood doors.
Petronius stopped at a marble threshold and read write in it with a greeting: Hello! It portrays the sad smile on his face. - Old ruler led him into vivliofiku, where we visited several scrolls, and then entered into the master bedroom. It was just removed. It contained only two family statue. One portrayed the matron, sitting in a chair, another girl, playing the ball. On the table beside the bed was a small lamp. Here Petronius was to rest and let us go, inviting him to come to the evening.
* * *
I could not sleep; sadness fills my soul. I have seen not only in Petronia generous benefactor, But other, sincerely attached to me. I respected his largeness of heart; I loved his beautiful soul. In talking with him, I found its knowledge of the world and people, I know more speculations on the divine Plato, rather than from his own experience. His judgments were usually quick and correct. Indifference to get rid of his addiction, and sincerity in regard to himself made him a shrewd. Life could not provide him with anything new; he tasted all the pleasures; his senses on alert, dulled by habit, but his mind kept surprising freshness. He loved the game of thinking, as well as the harmony of words. Willingly listened philosophical reasoning and he wrote poetry better than Catullus.
I went into the garden, and a long walk on the paths of his izluchistym, shaded by old trees. I sat on the bench, under the shadow of a wide poplar, which was a statue of a young satyr, penetrates the cane. Wanting to entertain somehow sad thoughts, I took a note-plates and translated one of the odes of Anacreon, that and saved in the memory of this sad day:
Posed, serial
curls, honor of my,
The teeth in the gums weakened
And the fire was extinguished eyes.
Sweet life I do not much
Escort days left,
Park by leading them to strictly,
Tartar shadows waiting for my. –
Scary cool underground vault,
Entrance is open to all,
From it there is no outcome ...
Everyone has come - and there forgotten.
* * *
The sun was in the west; I went to Petronius. I found it in the library. he paced; with him was his home doctor Septimus. Petronij, seeing me, He stopped and said jokingly:
Learn spirited horses
In their parched brands,
Learn Parthians puffed
A high Cowl.
I'm happy lovers
I know in their eyes.
"You guessed it", - I answered Petronius, and gave him their boards. He read my poems. Cloud thought passed over his face and immediately dissipated.
- When I read these poems, - he said, - I'm always curious to know, like those dead, which were so much impressed by the idea of death. Anacreon says, it is appalling that the Tartar, but I do not believe him, just as I do not believe the cowardice of Horace. You know his ode?
Who among the gods returned to me
Togo, with whom the first campaigns
And the wars of terror I shared,
When the ghost of freedom
Brutus led us desperate?
Who am I fighting anxiety
In the tent of the bowl forgotten
And curls, ivy twined,
Syrian myrrh anoint?
Do you remember the terrible hour of battle,
When I, Queer tremulous,
He fled, dishonest dashing shield,
Creating vows and prayers?
As I feared! he fled!
But he Ermy nezapnoy cloud
I covered and raced off into the distance
And he saved from death neminuchey.
Sly poet wanted to laugh Augustus and Maecenas his cowardice, so as not to remind them of the companions Cassius and Brutus. Will your, I find more sincerity in his exclamation:
Red and sweet drop in homeland *.
