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The boy still went forward by devious paths, till they had mounted as high as the city wall. “You are bringing me where there is no entrance,” said Agellius. The boy laughed. “Jucundus told me to bring you by a blind way,” he said. “You know best why. This is one of our ways in and out.” There was an aperture in the wall, and the bricks and stones about it were loose, and admitted of removal.
“Hm!” said Jucundus; “they did not say so when I went to school; but keep to my rule, my boy, and swear by the genius of Rome and the emperor.” “I don’t believe in god or goddess, emperor or Rome, or in any philosophy, or in any religion at all,” said Arnobius. “What!” cried Jucundus, “you’re not going to desert the gods of your ancestors?” “Ancestors?” said Arnobius; “I’ve no ancestors.
“No matter, no matter,” answered Jucundus, “no matter at all; she may be a Lais or Phryne for me; the surer to make a man of him.” “Why,” said Juba, “mother thinks her head is turning in the opposite way. D’you see? Strange, isn’t it?” he added, annoyed himself yet not unwilling to annoy his uncle.
“Truly, a most beautiful medal,” said Aristo, examining it, and handing it on to his host. “You might make an amulet of it, Jucundus. But as to eternity, why, that is a very great word; and, if I mistake not, other states have been eternal before Rome. Ten centuries is a very respectable eternity; be content, Rome is eternal already, and may die without prejudice to the medal.”
She could model, paint, play on the lyre, sing, act. She could work with the needle, she could embroider. She made this girdle for me. It’s all that Agellius, it’s Agellius. I beg your pardon, Jucundus; but it is;” and he threw himself on the ground, and rolled in the dust.
You are to go with me, and by my way; and this is the proof I tell you truth. He sends you this note, and wishes you in a bad time the best gifts of Bacchus and Ceres.” Agellius took the tablets, and went with them across the road to the place where Cæcilius was at work, in appearance a slave. The letter ran thus:—“Jucundus to Agellius.
Well, is he safe in the pit, or in the stomach of an hyena?” “He’s alive,” said Juba; “but he has not got it in him to be a Christian. Yes, he’s safe with his uncle.” “Ah! Jucundus must ruin him, debauch him, and then we must make away with him. We must not be in a hurry,” said Gurta, “it must be body and soul.”
No one will say a word against Jucundus; he will not lose a single customer, or be shunned by a single jolly companion, for the exposure of his nephew. But a man can’t be saved against his will. Here am I, full of expedients and resources for his good; there is he, throwing cold water on everything, and making difficulties as if he loved them.
It was thus that Jucundus addressed himself to the present state of affairs, and anticipated the chances of the future. As to Aristo, he had very little personal interest in the matter.
“Yes, I will see her,” said Agellius, in a sort of musing manner; “she is either a Christian, or she is not. If she is a Christian ...” and his voice faltered; “but if she is not, she shall live till she is.” “Well said!” answered Jucundus, “till she is. She shall live till she is. Yes, I can get you to see her.
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