Augustus

He smiled as if I were a slug at his feet. 'My mistress is Julia, daughter of Octavius Caesar, the August, Emperor of Rome and First Citizen. Do you wish to know more, lawyer?'

I suppose I gaped at him; I did not speak.

'You will attend me, I presume?' he said haughtily.

In an instant my irritation was gone. I laughed, and tossed the sheaf of papers I had been clutching toward my secretary. 'Do the best you can with these,' I said. Then I turned to the slave who waited for me. 'I will attend you,' I said, 'wherever your mistress would have you lead me.' And I followed him out the door.

As is my wont, dear Sextus, I shall digress for a moment. In a casual way, I had met the lady in question a few weeks before, at a huge party given by that Sempronius Gracchus whom we both know. The Emperor's daughter had returned only a month or so before from a long journey in the East, where she had accompanied her husband, Marcus Agrippa, on some business of his, and where Agrippa remains yet. I was anxious to meet her, of course; since her return, the fashionable people of Rome have been talking of nothing else. So when Gracchus, who seems to be on rather friendly terms with her, invited me, I of course quickly accepted.

There were literally hundreds of people at the party at Sempronius Gracchus's villa-really too large a gathering to be very amusing, I suppose, but it was pleasurable in its own way. Despite the numbers of people, I had the chance to meet Julia, and we bantered for a few moments. She is an utterly charming woman, exquisitely beautiful, and really quite intelligent and well-read. She was kind enough to indicate that she had read some of my poems. Knowing her father's reputation for rectitude (as do you, my poor Sextus), I tried to make a sort of rueful apology for the 'naughtiness' of my verse. But she smiled at me in that devastating way she has, and said: 'My dear Ovid, if you try to convince me that though your verse is naughty, your life is chaste, I shall not speak to you again.'

And I said, 'My dear lady, if that is the condition, I shall attempt to convince you otherwise.'

And she laughed and moved away from me. Though it was a pleasant interlude, it did not occur to me that she would give me another thought, let alone remember my existence for two whole weeks. And yet she did; and yesterday I found myself in her company once more, following the circumstance which I have described.

Outside my door, attended by bearers, there were perhaps half a dozen litters, canopied with silk of purple and gold; they teemed with the movements of their occupants, and laughter shook the street. I stood, not knowing where to turn; my castrate chaperon had wandered away and was haranguing some of the lesser slaves. Then someone stepped from a litter, and I saw at once that it was she, the Julia who had so kindly interrupted my tedious morning. Then another stepped from the litter and joined her. It was Sempronius Gracchus. He smiled at me. I went toward them.

'You have saved me from a death by boredom,' I said to Julia. 'What now will you do with that life which belongs to you?'

'I shall use it frivolously,' she said. 'Today is my father's birthday, and he has given me permission to invite some of my friends to sit with him in his box at the Circus. We shall watch the games, and gamble away our money.'

'The games,' I said. 'How charming.' I intended my remark to be neutral, but Julia took it as irony. She laughed.

'One does not have that much concern for the games,' she said. 'One goes to see, and to be seen, and to discover less common amusements.' She glanced at Sempronius. 'You will learn, perhaps.' She turned from me then, and called to the others, some of whom had stepped out of their litters to stretch their legs. 'Who would share his seat with Ovid, the poet of love, who writes of those things to which you have dedicated your lives?'

Arms waved from litters, my name was shouted: 'Here, Ovid, ride with us-my girl needs your advice!' 'No, I need your advice!' And there was much laughter. I finally chose a litter in which there was room for me, the bearers hoisted their burdens, and we made our way slowly through the crowded streets toward the Circus Maximus.

We arrived at noon, just as the hordes of people were streaming out of the stands for a hasty lunch before the resumption of the games. I must say, it gave me an odd feeling to see those masses, recognizing the colors of our litters, part before our advance, as the earth parts before the advance of a plow. Yet they were gay, and waved to us and shouted in the most friendly manner.

We debarked from our litters; and with Julia, Sempronius Gracchus, and another whom I did not know leading our band, we made our way among those arcades that honeycomb the Circus toward the stairs. Occasionally from the doorway of one of these arcades, an astrologer would beckon and call to us, whereupon someone in our party would shout: 'We know our future, old man!' and throw him a coin. Or a prostitute would show herself and beckon enticingly to one who seemed unattached, whereupon one of the ladies might call to her in mock terror, 'Oh, no! Don't steal him from us. He might never return!'

We mounted the stairs; and as we approached the Imperial box there were shushings and calls for quiet, out of deference for the presence of Octavius Caesar. But he was not in the box when we arrived; and I must say that, despite the pleasure I was having in the company of this most delightful troop, I found myself a little disappointed.

For as you know, Sextus, unlike you-not being an intimate of Maecenas, as you are, nor needing that intimacy-I have never met Octavius Caesar. I have seen him from afar, of course, as has everyone in Rome: but I know of him only that which you have told me.

'The Emperor is not here?' I asked.

Julia said, 'There are certain kinds of bloodshed that my father does not enjoy.' She pointed down at the open space of the course. 'He usually comes late, after the animal hunt is over.'

I looked to where she was pointing; the attendants were dragging away the slain animals and raking over the earth that was spotted with blood. I saw several tigers, a lion, and even an elephant being dragged across the ground. I had attended one of these hunts before, when I first came to Rome, and had found it extremely dull and common. I suggested as much to Julia.

She smiled, 'My father says that either a fool is killed, or a dumb beast, and he cannot bring himself to care which. And besides, there are no wagers to be made on these contests between hunters and beasts. My father enjoys the wagering.'

'It's late,' I said. 'He will be here, won't he?'

'He must,' she said. 'The games honor his birthday; and he would not be discourteous to anyone who so honors him.'

I nodded, and recalled that the games were being presented to him by one of the new praetors, Julius Antonius. I started to say something to Julia; but I remembered who Julius Antonius was, and I checked my speech.

But Julia must have noticed my intention, for she smiled. 'Yes,' she said. 'In particular, my father would not be discourteous to the son of an old enemy, whom he has forgiven, and whose son he has preferred to some who are his own kin.'

Wisely (I think), I nodded, and did not speak more of the matter. But I wondered about this son of Marcus Antonius, whose name, even these many years after his death, still is honored by many of the citizens of Rome.

Yet there is little time to wonder about things ofthat sort in such gay company. The servants brought tidbits of food on golden plates, and poured wine into golden cups; and we ate, and drank, and chattered as we watched the crowd straggle back to their seats for the afternoon races.

By the sixth hour, the stands were filled, and it seemed to me overflowing with a good part of the population of Rome. Then suddenly, above the natural noise of the crowd, a great roar went up; many of the populace were standing, and were pointing toward the box where we reclined. I turned around, glancing over my shoulder. At the rear of the box, in the shadows, stood two figures, one rather tall, the other short. The tall one was dressed in the richly embroidered tunic and the purple-bordered toga of a consul; the shorter wore the plain white tunic and toga of the common citizen.

The taller of the two was Tiberius, stepson of the Emperor and consul of Rome; and the shorter was, of course, the Emperor Octavius Caesar himself.

They came into the box; we rose; the Emperor smiled and nodded to us, and indicated that we should seat ourselves. He sat beside his daughter, while Tiberius (a dour-faced young man, who seemed not to want to be where he was) found a seat somewhat removed from the rest of the party, and spoke to no one. For several