Part 87 (1/2)
Mardian was stroking the turtle's head, and it seeedy,” he agreed ”And now thesituation with Octavia”
”Yes She sits in Athens, surrounded by her bait Octavian sent her; it could not be her doing” Of that I was sure
”How do you know that?” Mardian frowned
”Even if she wished to, he never would have permitted it unless it furthered his own aihts, desires, or plans of her own!”
The weak creature was content to be married how and where her brother decreed, to be ordered about like a slave What good was all her scholarshi+p, then, and her vaunted lofty character?
”Everyone in Rome praises her,” said Mardian cautiously ”And they say she isbeautiful”
”I've seen her She isn't,” I said ”People say the s! That's because it makes the story better, and the coainst the virtuous beauty of Rome” I knew that was hoas perceived, and there was no remedy for it As I said, people like dramatic stories and elemental conflicts
”Antony will have to decide,” I said ”And I will do nothing to help him h already, then it will never be enough,” said Mardian
I had spoken bravely to Mardian in the daylight, but at night I lay awake and felt much less sure The truth was that common sense said Antony should return to the fold of Roht to put it behind him as a lost cause He possessed that unusual, chaeneral's cloak and helistrate, in a Greek robe he was a gymnasiarch, in lionskin and tunic he was Hercules, and in vine leaves he was Dionysus, an eastern God Unlike ift and his charm
Now he could easily resume the Roman mantle, take the hand of his Roman wife, and sail back to Rome The east had not answered his dreams; very well, there were others for him elsewhere Octavian would welcoiven They would never mention me, as a mutual embarrassment
The as sure for Antony All I could offer was a struggle to build a wide eastern alliance and eventually an equal partnershi+p with Rome That, and myself
Yet I wondered about a woman like Octavia If I had been deserted,lands on her and putting her head on coins, I never would want him back--or at least I would never take him back, no matter how much I wanted him And to chase after hi the knee to Octavian entailed great humiliation--even for his ”cherished” sister How much more for his fellow Triurew used to the waiting It becae of finding literary references to ”waiting” and ”patience,” seeking help from the librarian of the Museion
”Hoiven mankind a patient soul,' ” he ventured one day The fates have given mankind a patient soul,' ” he ventured one day
”That is so general as to ,” I said Indeed it was; plenty of men had no patience at all
” 'Patience is the best remedy for every trouble,' wrote Plautus,” he offered another day
”Another generality!” I scoffed
”Here's an obscure one, then,” he said ”Archilochos wrote, 'The Gods give us the harsh medicine of endurance' ”
”Why should it be froumentative ”Sappho understands it better She says, 'The ht, and time spins away I lie in bed, alone' ”
”Ahem,” Mardian de Sappho?”
”Poetry consoles me at the same time it inflames me,” I said
”You should know better,” he sniffed ”It's poison for the soul!”
Another day he presented a paper from Epaphroditus, who had found a quote froion ”He quotes froood unto them that wait for hihed ”It isn't the Lord I'ive up Inflame yourself with Sappho--or who!” He looked very stern
I read poetry only late at night, when Charently stirring The night stretched out before me, and the words from people centuries dead see never did They did console; they whispered; they made me feel thankful that--whatever the pain of it--I was alive, while they, poor wretches, were dead
Later ill have a long time to lie dead, yet the few years we have noe live badly
That hat they toldthe day that I expected to receive the news That hen shi+ps docked and unloaded, when land ht, as I half-lay, half-sat, on a couch onon the harbor waves, indulging myself in poetry and Arabian candied melons, I barely looked up as one of htmy hand toward a mother-of-pearl bowl that I used for unimportant trinkets I was too involved in the delicious verses of Catullus to stop; they were as high-flavored and (I suspected) as unhealthy as the candies I was thankful I had learned Latin after all, the better to partake of his agonies and yearnings
Odi et amo: quare id faciam, fortasse requiris nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior
I hate and love
And if you ask me why, I have no answer, but I discern, can feel, my senses rooted in eternal torture
How un-Roman! That, in addition to his ”inflammatory” ideas, rew sated on the excess of e out by the time I set him aside--did I idly pick up the letter and open it
”My dearest and only wife, I a to you--M A” was all it said
The plain and simple words were the most eloquent I had ever read, and belittled all the literary raptures I had so ad to you
Antony himself was already here, and had sent the letter fro it that he stood on the threshold of my cha opened, heard footsteps What now? I thought, annoyed at the intrusion I wanted to reread the letter, ponder it I stood up and looked inside, into the darkness of the room
”Charht
There was no answer Drawing my robe aroundthere, face hidden by a voluet past the guards? Froure was silent