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Updated: June 9, 2025
“Well,” said Jucundus, in a depressed tone; “he’s not come to you, of course?” “Who?” “Agellius.” “Oh! Agellius! No, he’s not with me.” Then, after a pause, Aristo added, “Why should he be?” “Oh, I don’t know. I thought he might be. He’s been gone since early morning.” “Indeed! No, I don’t know where he is. How came he with you?” “I told you yesterday; but you have forgotten.
Martial has given us a very pretty picture of one of this species, in the following epigram: Difficilis, facilis, jucundus, acerbus es idem, Nec tecum possum vivere, nec sine te. Ep. xii. 47. In all thy humours, whether grave or mellow, Thou'rt such a touchy, testy, pleasant fellow; Hast so much wit, and mirth, and spleen about thee, There is no living with thee, nor without thee.
Lynx can aver, because she saw the whole transaction with her own eyes, as she told Mr. Jucundus. I have altered the little details of the anecdote somewhat. But this story is, I vow and declare, as true as Mrs Lynx's. Gracious goodness! how do lies begin? What are the averages of lying? Is the same amount of lies told about every man, and do we pretty much all tell the same amount of lies?
“Don’t sneer at that Anubis,” said his uncle; “it is the work of the divine Callista.” “That, I suppose, is why she brings into existence so many demons,” answered Juba; “nothing more can be done in the divine line; like the queen who fell in love with a baboon.” “Now I come to think,” retorted Jucundus, “that god of hers is something like you. She must be in love with you, Juba.”
“My dear Agellius,” said Jucundus, “it would be a most suitable proceeding. I have never taken to marrying myself; it has not lain in my way, or been to my taste. Your father did not set me an encouraging example; but here you are living by yourself, in this odd fashion, unlike any one else. Perhaps you may come in time and live in Sicca.
“The Furies seize them!” exclaimed Jucundus: “they deserve everything bad, always excepting my poor boy. So they are cheating the hangman by giving up their atheism, the vile reptiles, giving in to a threat. However,” he added gravely, “I wish threats would answer with Agellius; but I greatly fear that menace would only make him stubborn. That stubbornness of a Christian!
Go, I will, if I may, Jucundus, but I will go on no conditions of yours. I go on no promise to try to get her out of prison anyhow, poor child. I will not go to make her sacrifice to a false god; I go to persuade her to stay in prison, by deserving to stay. Perhaps I am not the best person to go; but if I go, I go free. I go willing to die myself for my Lord; glad to make her die for Him.”
But he is dead and gone.” And he sat up and leant on his elbow. “Ah! but it will be all set right now,” said Cornelius, “you’ll see.” “He’d be a reformer, that Philip,” continued Jucundus, “and put down an enormity. Well, they call it an enormity; let it be an enormity. He’d put it down; but why? there’s the point; why?
Jucundus, then, set out to see how the land lay with his nephew, and to do what he could to prosper the tillage. His way led him by the temple of Mercury, which at that time subserved the purpose of a boy’s school, and was connected with some academical buildings, the property of the city, which lay beyond it.
What will be the end of it?” Cornelius shook his head, and looked mysterious. “You don’t mean it?” said Jucundus. “Not anything so dreadful, I do trust, Cornelius. Not the stake?” Cornelius still looked gloomy and pompous. “Nothing in the way of torture?” he went on; “not the rack, or the pitchfork?” “It’s a bad business, on your own showing,” said Cornelius: “it’s a bad business!”
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