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He had made but one arrest, and this dumbfounded me. Ducconius Furfur had been interrogated, like all my neighbors, but, while the rest had been dismissed after answering what questions were put to them, Furfur, with two servants, had accompanied to Rome the Praetorians when they went away. The more I reflected on this the stranger it seemed.
"It all hinged," Agathemer explained, "on the fact that Furfur was insanely in love with Marcia, that Marcia hated and loathed him and that Commodus realized how each felt to the other. He was so sure of Marcia's detestation of Furfur that he was never jealous of him, so sure of Furfur's complete subserviency to Marcia that he never feared betrayal by him.
The old man spoke well and tersely, made his points neatly and stated his arguments lucidly, and, in conclusion he said: "And you must realize, Sir, that whatever my feelings have been up to today, after what happened this afternoon I have forgotten that I or mine ever owned Ducconius Furfur as master. I am your man henceforward, body and soul; I call you not only patron but savior and father.
Actually, from what I hear, Furfur complied as he did partly from loyalty to Commodus, partly from fear of him, partly, perhaps, from a sort of relish for his risky impersonation, but chiefly because he was wax in Marcia's hands; as, indeed, was every man who came within reach of her fascinations. Does that explain it?" "Enough," I agreed. "Perhaps as far as it can or could be explained."
He had announced that he meant on the Kalends of January to take up his abode in the Choragium and leave the Palace and its adjuncts and all his prerogatives to Ducconius Furfur. He had Furfur in and the five had a heated wrangle.
To my eyesight the figure on the throne, even under that broad hat-brim and enveloped in that thick rain-cloak, was manifestly Commodus in person. During the noon interval, as usual, the Emperor retired to his robing-room under the upper tiers of the amphitheater. When again, after the noon interval, the throne was reoccupied, I felt certain that its occupant was Ducconius Furfur.
After Agathemer and I were alone in the dark on our cots we whispered to each other a long time. "Do you really believe," I said, "that Commodus is so insane about horse- racing as to be willing to put Furfur on his throne in his robes so that he can degrade himself under the name of Palus?" "I do," said Agathemer. "No other conjecture fits what we saw.
Ducconius Furfur had not only sat in his throne at shows, but had received embassies, read better than he the addresses composed for him by his Prefects of the Praetorium and Secretaries, knew all the tricks of the office and could and would be a better Emperor than ever he had been. When Eclectus and Laetus argued with him the results were similar.
For I knew Ducconius Furfur from our boyhood and I solemnly assert that Palus was Commodus and that, whenever Palus appeared in the circus and, later, in the amphitheater, while the Imperial Pavilion was filled by the Imperial retinue, with the throne occupied apparently by the Emperor, the throne was occupied by a dummy emperor, Ducconius Furfur, in the Imperial attire, and Commodus was in the arena as Palus.
Then Marcia admonished him that while Furfur had escaped detection in mere routine matters he was certain to be detected within a few days if he essayed all the Imperial duties before all sorts of people.
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