The Secret of the Kingdom

Book I

Antioch

I was seven years old when the veteran Barbus saved my life. I remember well how I tricked my old nurse Sophronia into letting me go down to the banks of the river Orontes. The rapid swirling current attracted me and I leaned over the jetty to look at the bubbling water. Then Barbus approached me and asked in a friendly way:

“Do you want to learn to swim, boy?”

I replied that I did. He looked around, and grasping me by the back of my neck and the crotch, he flung me far out into the river. Then he let out a wild cry, calling on Hercules and the Roman Jupiter the Conqueror, and flinging his ragged cloak down on the jetty, he plunged into the water after me.

People flocked to his cry. They all saw and unanimously testified to how Barbus, at the risk of his own life, saved me from drowning, carried me ashore, and rolled me on the ground to make me spew up the water I had swallowed. When Sophronia arrived, crying and tearing her hair, Barbus lifted me in his strong arms and carried me all the way home, although I struggled to get away from his filthy clothes and the smell of wine on his breath.

My father was not particularly fond of me, but he plied Barbus with wine and accepted his explanation that I had slipped and fallen into the water, I did not contradict Barbus, for I was used to holding my tongue in my father’s presence. On the contrary, I listened as if spellbound as Barbus modestly related how, during his time as a legionary, he had swum fully equipped across the Danube, the Rhine and even the Euphrates. My father drank wine, too, to calm his fears, and was himself disposed to relate how, as a youth at the school of philosophy in Rhodes, he had wagered that he could swim from Rhodes to the mainland. He and Barbus were in complete agreement that it was high time I learned to swim. My father gave Barbus some new clothes so that when he was dressing, Barbus had an opportunity to exhibit his many scars.

From that time onwards Barbus stayed at our house and called my father master. He escorted me to school, and when he was not too drank, came to fetch me at the end of the school day. First and foremost, he raised me as a Roman, for he really had been born and bred in Rome and had served for thirty years in the I5th legion. My father was careful to confirm this, for although he was an absentminded and reserved man, he was not stupid and would never have employed a deserter in his house.

Thanks to Barbus, I learned not only to swim but also to ride. At his request my father bought me a horse of my own so that I could become a member of the young Equestrian Knights in Antioch as soon as I was fourteen. It was true that Emperor Gaius Caligula had struck my father’s name from the rolls of the Roman Noble Order of Equestrian Knights with his own hand, but in Antioch that was considered more of an honor than a disgrace since everyone remembered only too well what a good-for-nothing Caligula had been, even as a youth. Later lie was murdered at the great circus in Rome as he was about to promote his favorite horse to the rank of Senator.

At the time, my father, albeit reluctantly, had reached such a position in Antioch that they wanted him to go with the delegation the city was sending to Rome to congratulate Emperor Claudius on his accession. His knighthood would undoubtedly have been returned to him there, but my father resolutely refused to go to Rome, and later it was proved that he had had good reasons for this. Now he himself said that he preferred to live in peace and humility and that he had no desire for a knighthood.

Just as Barbus had come to our house by chance, so also had my father’s fortune increased. He used to say in his bitter way that he had had no luck in his life, for when I was born, he lost the only woman he had ever really loved. But even in Damascus he had already made a habit of going to the market on the anniversary of my mother’s death and buying a wretched slave or two. Then when my father had kept the slave for a time and fed him well, he took him to the authorities, paid the redemption fee and gave the slave his freedom. He allowed these freedmen to use the name Marcius, not Manilianus, and gave them money so that they could begin to practice the trade they had learned. One of his freedmen became Marcius the silk merchant, another Marcius the fisherman, while Marcius the barber earned a fortune modernizing women’s wigs. But the one who became the wealthiest of all was Marcius the mine owner, who later made my father buy a copper mine in Sicily. My father also frequently complained that he could never carry out the smallest charitable deed without receiving benefit or praise from it.

Since he had settled in Antioch, after his seven years in Damascus, he had served, good linguist and moderate that he was, as adviser to the Proconsul, especially on matters concerning Jewish affairs, in which he had become thoroughly versed during earlier travels in Judaea and Galilee. He was a mild and good-natured man and always recommended a compromise in preference to forceful measures. In this way he won the appreciation of the citizens of Antioch. After losing his knighthood, he was elected to the city council, not just for his strength of will and energy, but because each party thought he would be useful to them.

When Caligula demantled that an idol of himself should be raised in the temple in Jerusalem and in all the synagogues in the province, my father realized that such an act would lead to armed uprising, and he advised the Jews to try to gain time rather than make unnecessary protests. So it came about that the Jews in Antioch let the Roman Senate think that they themselves wanted to pay for sufficiently worthy statues of the Emperor Gaius in their synagogues. But the statues suffered several misfortunes during their manufacture, or else the premonitory omens were unfavorable and prevented their erection. When Emperor Gaius was murdered, my father won much approval for his foresight. Though I do not believe he could have known anything about the murder beforehand but had merely wished, as usual, to gain time and avoid trouble with the Jews, which would have upset trade in the city.

But my father could also be stubborn. As a member of the city council, he flatly refused to pay for circus shows of wild animals and gladiators and was even against theatrical performances. On the advice of his freedmen, however, he had an arcade bearing his name built in the city. From the shops inside, he received considerable sums in rents so that the enterprise was also to his advantage, quite apart from the honor.

My father’s freedmen could not understand why he dealt with me so severely, wishing me to be content with his own simple way of life. They competed to offer me all the money I might need, gave me beautiful clothes, had my saddle and harness decorated, and did their best to cover up for me, hiding my thoughtless deeds from him. Young and foolish as I was, I was tormented with a desire to be in all things as outstanding, or preferably even more outstanding, than the noble youths of the city, and my father’s freedmen shortsidedly considered that this would be to the advantage of both themselves and my father.

Thanks to Barbus, my father realized it was necessary for me to learn Latin. Barbus’s own legionary Latin did not go very far. My father thus saw to it that I read the history books by Virgil and Livy. For evenings on end Barbus told me of the hills, splits and traditions of Rome, its gods and warriors, so that I was finally seized with a wild desire to go there. I was no Syrian, but had been born a Roman of Manilian and Maecenean lineage, even if my mother had been only a Greek. Naturally I did not neglect my Greek studies either, but at fifteen years of age already knew many of the poets. For two years I had Timaius from Rhodes as my tutor. My father had bought him after the disturbances in Rhodes and would have freed him, but Timaius bitterly refused each time, explaining that there was no real difference between slaves and freedmen, and that freedom lay in a man’s heart.

So I was taught the Stoic philosophy by an embittered Timaius who despised my Latin studies, since Romans in his opinion were barbarians, and bore a grudge against Rome, which had deprived Rhodes of its freedom.

Among the youth of the city who took part in the equestrian games were ten or so who vied with each other at wild exploits. We had sworn allegiance and had a tree to which we made sacrifices. On the way home from riding practice, we once recklessly decided to ride through the city at a gallop, and while doing so, to snatch the wreaths hanging on the shop doors. By mistake I grabbed one of the black oak-leaf wreaths which were hung as a sign that someone in the house had died, although we had meant to do no more than annoy the shopkeepers. I should have realized that this was an ill omen, and inwardly I was frightened, but despite this I hung the wreath on our sacrificial tree.

Everyone who knows Antioch will realize what a commotion our exploit caused, but naturally the police did not succeed in proving us guilty. We ourselves were forced to admit our guilt, for otherwise all the partakers in the equestrian games would have been punished. We escaped with fines since the magistrates did not want to offend our parents. After that we contented ourselves with exploits outside the city walls.

Down by the river we once saw a group of girls busy doing something which roused our curiosity. We thought they were country girls, and I hit upon the idea of pretending to carry them off, just as the ancient Romans had seized the Sabine women. I told my friends the story of the Sabines and it amused them very much. So we rode down to the river and each of us seized the girl who happened to be in his way and lifted her onto the saddle in front of him. This was in fact easier said than done, and it was equally difficult keeping the screaming, kicking girls there. In actual fact I did not know what to do with my girl, but I tickled her to make her laugh and when I had, as I thought, shown her sufficiently clearly that she was completely in my power, I rode back and let her down to the ground. My friends did the same. As we rode away, the girls threw stones at us and we were gripped with evil presentiments, for as I had held the girl in my arms, I had indeed noticed that she was no peasant girl.

In fact they were all girls from noble families who had gone down to the river to purify themselves and make certain sacrifices which their new degree of womanhood demantled of them. We should have known this from the colored ribbons hanging on the bushes as a warning to outsiders. But which of us was versed in the mysterious rites of young girls?

The girls might have kept the matter secret for their own sakes, but they had a priestess with them and her sense of duty drove her to think that we had deliberately committed blasphemy. So my idea led to a fearful scandal. It was even suggested that we ought to marry the girls whose virtue we had dishonored at a delicate moment of sacrifice. Fortunately none of us had yet received the man-toga.

My tutor, Timaius, was so angry that he hit me with a stick although he was a slave. Barbus tore the stick from his hand and advised me to flee from the city. Superstitious as he was, he also feared the Syrian gods. Timaius feared no gods since he saw all gods as nothing but idols, but he considered that my behavior had brought shame on him as a tutor. The worst was that it was impossible to keep the matter secret from my father.

I was inexperienced and sensitive, and when I saw the fear in all the others, I myself began to think that our exploit had been more serious than it in fact was. Timaius, who was an old man and also a Stoic, ought to have been more balanced and encouraged me in the face of such trials rather than depressing me. But he revealed his true nature and all his bitterness when he said:

“Who do you think you are, you idle, repulsive braggart? It was not without reason that your father gave you the name of Minutus, the insignificant one. Your mother was no more than a wanton Greek, a dancing-woman and worse, perhaps a slave. That’s your descent. It was according to the laws and no whim of Emperor Gaius that your father was struck from the rolls of knights, for he was expelled from Judaea in the time of Governor Pontius Pilate because he was involved in Jewish superstitions. He is no true Manilianus, only an adoptive one, and in Rome he made a fortune with the help of a shameful will. Then he was involved in a scandal with a married woman and can never again return there. So you are nothing, and you will become even more insignificant, you dissolute son of a miserly father.”

He would undoubtedly have said even more had I not hit him across the mouth. I was immediately horrified at what I had done, for it is not correct for a pupil to hit his tutor, even if he is a slave. Timaius wiped the blood from his lips and smiled malevolently.

“Thank you, Minutus my son, for this sign,” he said. “What is crooked can never grow straight and what is base can never be noble. You ought also to know that your father drinks blood in secret with the Jews and worships the goblet of the Goddess of Fortune secretly in his room. How else could anyone have been so successful and become so rich with no merits of his own? But I have already had enough of him, and of you, and of the whole of this unhappy world in which injustice reigns over justice, and wisdom has to sit by the door while insolence holds a feast.”

I did not take much notice of his words as I had quite enough to think about with my own tribulations. But I was seized with a blind desire to demonstrate that I was not insignificant and at the same time make good the evil I had done. My fellow conspirators and I remembered that we had heard of a lion which had been attacking cattle half a day’s ride from the city. It was rare that lions dared to approach so close to a large city and the matter was much discussed. I thought that if I and my friends could capture it alive and give it to the city’s amphitheater, we should thus redeem our evil deed and win fame.

This thought was so demented that it could only have been born in the sore heart of a fifteen-year-old, but the most lunatic thing of all was that Barbus, who was as drunk as usual that afternoon, considered the plan an excellent one. Nor was it easy for him to oppose it after the many stories he had told me of his own heroic deeds. He himself had caught lions in nets innumerable times to acquire extra income to supplement his meager pay.

It was necessary that we leave the city immediately since the police might well be on their way to arrest me, and in any case I was certain that our horses would be taken from us forever-early the following morning at the latest. I found only six of my friends, for three of them had been wise enough to tell their parents at once what had happened, and their parents had immediately sent them out of the city.

My friends, who were severely shaken, were so delighted with my plan that we soon began to bluster and brag among ourselves. We fetched our horses from the stables in secret and rode out of the city. Meanwhile Barbus got a bag of silver pieces from Marcius the silk merchant, took it to the amphitheater and bribed an experienced animal trainer to come with us. They loaded a cart with nets, weapons and leather protectors and met us outside the city by our sacrificial tree. Barbus also brought meat, bread and a couple of large jars of wine. The wine restored my appetite, for hitherto I had been so anxious and depressed, I had not been able to swallow a single bite of food.

The moon was out when we set off. Barbus and the animal trainer amused us with stories of lion catches in different countries. They described it as something so simple that I and my friends, fired by the wine, sought to restrain them from taking too much part in our venture so that we might receive all the honor. This they willingly promised to do, assuring us that they sought only to help us with advice and with their experience, and that they themselves would keep well out of the way. As far as I was concerned, I had witnessed in the amphitheater with my own eyes how ingeniously an experienced band of men could capture a lion with a net and how easy it is for a man with two spears to kill one.

At dawn we came to the village we had heard about. The villagers were busy lighting their cooking fires. The rumor had been false, for the village was by no means terror-stricken. In fact, it was very proud of its lion. No other lion had been seen in the district within living memory. This one lived in a mountain cave nearby and had worn a path down to a stream. The previous night it had killed and eaten a goat the villagers had tied to a tree by the path so that their valuable cattle should not be taken. The lion had never attacked a human being. On the contrary, it used to make itself known by giving a couple of deep roars as it emerged from its cave. Nor was it a very demanding lion, for it contented itself, for lack of anything better, with eating carcasses, insofar as the jackals allowed it to. Furthermore, the villagers had already built a sturdy wooden cage in which they intended to convey the beast to Antioch and sell it. A lion captured with nets must be bound firmly as its limbs can be injured if one does not quickly put it in a cage and loosen the ropes.

When the villagers heard our plans, they were not at all pleased. Fortunately they had not yet had time to sell the lion, but when they realized our situation, they pressed us so hard that Barbus had to pay them two thousand sesterces for the lion and the cage. When the purchase was settled and the money counted, Barbus suddenly began to shiver all over and suggested that we should all get some sleep now and leave the capture of the lion until the following day. The people of Antioch would by then have had time to calm down after the scandal we had caused. But the animal trainer sensibly remarked that now was the right moment to drive the lion from the cave-in the morning when it had eaten and drunk its fill, was sluggish in its movements and dulled with sleep.

So Barbus and he put on the leather protectors and taking several men from the village, we rode off toward the mountain. They showed us the lion’s path and drinking place, large paw marks and a fresh heap of droppings. We could even smell the lion and our horses shied. As we slowly approached the lion’s lair, the scent became sharper and our horses trembled, rolled their eyes and refused to take another step forward, and we were forced to dismount and send the horses back. We continued on foot toward the cave until we heard the lion’s grumbling snores. It was snoring so loudly that the sound shook the ground beneath our feet. It is of course possible that the trembling was in our own legs, as we now approached a lion’s lair for the first time in our lives.

The villagers were not the least afraid of their own lion but assured us that it would sleep right on into the evening. They knew its habits well and swore that they had fed it up into such a sluggish and plump creature that our greatest difficulty would be in waking it and chasing it out into the open.

The lion had worn a broad path between the bushes outside the cave, and the steep rocky slopes on each side of it were so high that Barbus and the animal trainer could safely climb up and assist us with their good advice. They indicated how far we should stretch the heavy rope net in front of the cave and how three of us should hold on to each end of it. The seventh was to call and jump about behind the net so that the dazed lion, blinded by the sun, would rush out at him and thus plunge straight into the net. Then we were to wrap the net around the lion as many times as possible, making sure that we did not get within reach of its teeth and claws. When we considered the matter, we noticed that it was not quite so simple as they had made it out to be.

We sat down on the ground to decide which of us would wake the lion up from its sleep. Barbus suggested that it would be best to poke the animal with a spear shaft, just enough to irritate but not injure it. The animal trainer assured us that he would have liked to perform this little service for us but his knees were stiff with rheumatism and then too he did not want to deprive us of the honor.

My friends began to glance at me and assured me that as far as they were concerned, from sheer good nature they would relinquish the honor to me. I was the one who had thought up the plan, just as I had inveigled them into the capture of the Sabine women which had been the beginning of this adventure. With the acrid smell of lion in my nostrils, I reminded my friends with some force that I was my father’s only son. When we considered this matter further, five of us proved to be the only sons of their fathers. This fact may possibly explain our behavior. One of us had nothing but sisters and the youngest, Charisius, hastily explained that his only brother stammered and also suffered from other defects.

When Barbus saw that my friends were putting pressure on me and I should be forced to go whether I wanted to or not, he took a great gulp of wine from the jar, with a trembling voice called upon Hercules, and assured me that he loved me more than his own son, although he in fact had never had a son. The task was not suited to him, he said, but he, an old legionary veteran, was prepared to step down into the cleft in the rocks and awaken the lion. Should he lose his life because of his poor sight and weakened legs, he wished only that I should see to it that he had a fine funeral barge and that I should make a speech about him so that his many famous exploits would be known to all. By his death he would show that at least a part of all he had told me about his exploits over the years was true.

When he began to crawl down the slope with a spear in his hand even I weakened, and we embraced each other tenderly and wept together. I could not let an old man sacrifice his life for me and my mistakes. Instead, I bade him tell my father that at least I had met death like a man and this would perhaps atone for everything, for I had brought only misfortune to him from the time when my mother had died giving birth to me until now when, although with no evil intent, I had shamed his good name throughout Antioch.

Barbus demantled that I should at least take a few gulps of wine since, he assured me, nothing really hurts if one has enough wine in one’s stomach. I drank and made my friends swear that they would hold the net firmly and not let it go at any price. Then I gripped my spear with both hands, clenched my teeth and crept along the lion’s path through the cleft in the rocks. With the thunder of the lion’s snores in my ears, I made out its recumbent form in the cave. I waved the spear, heard the lion let out a roar, myself gave a yell and ran, more swiftly than I had ever done at an athletic competition, straight into the net, which my friends had hastily raised without waiting for me to jump over it.

As I struggled for my life in the meshes of the net, the lion came hesitantly and groaning out of its cave and stopped in surprise to look at me. It was such a huge and fearsome beast that my friends, unable to bear the sight of it, dropped the net and fled. The animal trainer bawled out his good advice and shouted that we must at once cast the net over the lion before it became used to the daylight, for otherwise it might turn dangerous.

Barbus also shouted and urged me to show presence of mind and remember I was a Roman and a Manilian. If I found myself in need, he would immediately come down and kill the lion with his sword, but first I should try to capture it alive. I do not know which part of this advice seemed the soundest, but once my friends had dropped the net, it was easier for me to get out of it. Despite everything, their cowardice had made me so angry that I turned with a firm grip on the net and looked the lion straight in the eye. It stared back at me with a majestic mien and a deeply offended and hurt expression, whining gently as it lilted a bleeding hind paw. I raised the net with both hands, hoisted it tip willi all my strength, for it was heavy for a single man, and threw it. The lion simultaneously took a leap forward, became entangled in the net and fell to one side. Roaring terribly, it began to roll about on the ground, winding the net around itself so that only once did it manage to strike me with its paw. I felt its strength, for I flew head-over-heels for quite a distance, a fact which undoubtedly saved my life.

Barbus and the animal trainer loudly urged each other on, the latter taking his wooden pitchfork and pinning the lion to the ground, and Barbus successfully threading a noose around its hind legs. Now the Syrian peasants tried to come to our rescue, but I shouted and swore and forbade them to since I wanted my cowardly friends to be in on the capture of the lion. Otherwise the whole of our plan would have been to no avail. Finally they did this, although they received several scratches from the lion’s claws in the process. The animal trainer secured our ropes and knots until the lion was so firmly bound that it could scarcely move. While this was going on, I sat on the ground, trembling with rage and so upset that I vomited between my knees.

The Syrian peasants threaded a long wooden pole between the lion’s paws and began to carry the creature toward the village. As it hung there on the pole, it seemed less large and majestic than when it had stepped out from its cave into the sunlight. In fact, it was a weak and flea-bitten old lion with several bald patches in its mane, and badly worn teeth. What worried me most was that it might be strangled by its bonds during the journey to the village.

My voice betrayed me several times, but I managed to make perfecdy clear to my friends what I thought of them and their behavior. If I had learned anything, it was that one could rely on no one when it came to one’s life. My friends were ashamed of their behavior and accepted my criticism, but they also reminded me of our joint oath and that we had captured the lion together. They willingly allowed me the greater part of the honor, but also demonstrated their wounds. I, in turn, showed my arm, which was still bleeding so profusely that my knees felt weak. Finally we agreed that we were all scarred for life by our venture. In the village we celebrated with a feast and respectfully made sacrifices to the lion after we had successfully barricaded it inside the sturdy cage. Barbus and the animal trainer got drunk while the girls in the village danced in our honor and garlanded us. The following day we hired an ox-wagon to take the cage and we ourselves rode behind in procession with wreaths on our foreheads, while carefully ensuring that our bandages bore clearly visible bloodstains on them.

At the city gates in Antioch the police were about to arrest us and take away our horses, but the officer in command was wiser and decided to come with us when we told him that we were voluntarily on our way to the City Hall to give ourselves up. Two policemen made a way for us with their batons, for as always in Antioch, all the loafers began to crowd around as soon as word spread that something unusual had happened. At first the crowd shouted abuse and threw lumps of manure and rotten fruit at us, for an exaggerated rumor had circulated that we had violated all the girls and gods in the city. Irritated by the noise and cries of the crowd, our lion began to roar dully, and it continued to roar, encouraged by the sound of its own voice, until our horses once again began to rear and shy away.

It is possible that the animal trainer had played a part in the roaring. Anyhow, the crowd fell back willingly before us and when they saw our bloodstained bandages, several of the women gave cries of sympathy and wept.

Anyone who has ever viewed the broad mile-long main street of Antioch, with its endless columns, will understand that our procession gradually began to look like a procession of triumph rather than of shame. It was not long before the easily influenced crowd began to throw flowers in our path. Our self-confidence grew, and when we reached the City Hall we already felt ourselves heroes rather than criminals.

The city fathers allowed us first to present our lion to the city and dedicate it to the protector Jupiter, who in Antioch is usually called Baal. After this we were brought before the criminal magistrates. But at that time there was a famous lawyer, with whom my father had spoken, working with them, and our voluntary appearance made a deep impression on the magistrates. They took our horses from us of course, which was inevitable, and we had to listen to gloomy words on the depravity of youth and about what one could expect in the future when the sons of the city’s best families set such an appalling example to the people, and about how different it had all been in the days when our parents and forefathers had been young.

But when I returned home with Barbus, a death wreath hung on our door, and at first no one would speak to us, not even Sophronia. Finally she burst into tears and told me that my tutor, Timaius, had the previous evening asked for a pan of warm water in his room and then had opened his veins. His lifeless body had not been found until morning. My father had shut himself in his room and had not even received his freedmen, who had sought admission to console him.

Actually no one had really liked the morose and discontented Timaius, but a death is always a death and I could not escape from my sense of guilt. I had struck my tutor and by my behavior had brought shame on him. Now I was seized with terror. I forgot that I had looked a real lion straight in the eye, and my first thought was to run away forever, go to sea, become a gladiator or enlist in one of the most distant Roman legions in the countries of ice and snow, or on the hot borders of Parthia. But I could not flee from the city without landing in prison, and so I thought defiantly of following Timaius’ example and in that way ridding my father of my troublesome presence.

My father received me quite differently from the way I had thought he would, although I ought to have imagined something like it, as he rarely behaved as other people do. Weary from his vigil and weeping, he fell on me, took me in his arms, pressed me to his breast, kissed my cheeks and my hair and rocked me gently to and fro. He had never before held me in his arms in this way and with such gentleness, for when I was small and longed for his caresses he had never wished to touch me nor even look at me.

“My son Minutus,” he whispered. “I thought I had lost you forever and that you’d fled to the end of the world with that drunken veteran, because you had taken money with you. And you must not mind about Timaius, for he wished for nothing but to avenge his destiny as a slave and harness his vague philosophy on you and me, and nothing can happen in this world that is so evil that there is no way of reconciliation and forgiveness.

“Oh, Minutus,” he went on, “I am not fit to raise anyone, for I have not even been able to manage my own life. But you have your mother’s forehead and your mother’s eyes and your mother’s short straight nose and your mother’s lovely mouth too. Can you ever forgive me for the hardness of my heart and my neglect of you?”

My father’s incomprehensible gentleness melted my heart and I began to weep loudly, although I was already fifteen years of age. I threw myself down before him, clasped my arms around his knees and begged forgiveness for the shame I had caused him and promised to improve if he once again showed leniency. But my father too had fallen to his knees and embraced me and kissed me, so that we knelt there and begged each other’s forgiveness in turn. My relief was so great and so sweet that my father wished to take upon himself both the death of Timaius and my own guilt, that I wept even louder.

But when Barbus heard my wails, he could no longer contain himself. Banging and clattering, he burst into the room with drawn sword and shield, in the belief that my father was beating me. Hard on his heels came Sophronia, weeping loudly. She tore me away from my father and clasped me to her own ample bosom. Both Barbus and she bade my cruel father beat them instead, since they, rather than I, should take the blame. I was still a child and had certainly meant no harm with my innocent pranks.

My father rose in confusion and defended himself hotly against the accusation of cruelty by assuring them that he had not struck me.

When Barbus realized his state of mind, he noisily called on all the godx of Rome and swore that he would fall on his own sword to make good his guilt, as Timaius had done. He became so excited that he probably would have done himself harm had not we all three, my father, Sophronia and I, succeeded in wresting his sword and shield from him. What he had in fact thought of doing with the shield, I did not know. Afterwards he explained that he had been afraid my father would strike him on the head and his old head could no longer bear the blows it had once borne in Armenia.

My father asked Sophronia to send out for the best meat and have a feast prepared, since we must all be hungry after our escapade, and he himself had not been able to eat a thing after he discovered I had left home and that he had been so unsuccessful in bringing up his own son. He also had invitations sent to his freedmen in the city, for they had all been concerned about me.

My father washed my wounds with his own hands, smeared them with healing ointment and bandaged them with clean linen, although I myself would have preferred to retain the bloodstained bandages a little longer. Barbus was given the opportunity of relating the story of the lion. My father became even more morose and accused himself even more that his son had felt himself bound to face death in a lion’s mouth rather than turn to his own father to atone for a boy’s youthful prank.

Finally Barbus became thirsty from all his talk and I was left alone together with my father. He said that he realized he must talk to me about the future, for I should soon be receiving the man-toga, but he found it difficult to find words to begin. He had never before spoken to me as father to son. He looked at me with troubled eyes and sought vainly for the words which might help him to find me.

I looked at him too, and I saw that his hair had grown thin and his face furrowed. My father was already nearer fifty than forty and in my eyes was elderly lonely man who could enjoy neither his life nor the fortunes of his freedmen. I looked at his scrolls and for the first time realized that there was not a single idol of a god in his room, nor even an image of a genius. I remembered Timaius’ malevolent accusations.

“Marcus, my father,” I said. “Before his death my tutor, Timaius, told me several evil things about my mother and you. That was why I struck him on the mouth. I do not want to excuse what I did in any way, but all the same, tell me if there is anything evil. Otherwise as an adult how shall I be able to watch over my actions?”

My father looked troubled, rubbed his hands together and avoided my eyes. Then he said slowly, “Your mother died giving birth to you, and that I could not forgive either you or myself until today, when I noticed that you are the image of your mother. I first feared I had lost you, then my sight returned and I realized that I have little to live for except you, my son Minutus.”

“Was mother a dancing woman, a loose woman and a slave, as Timaius maintained?” I asked directly.

My father was visibly upset.

“You shouldn’t even speak such words, Minutus,” he cried. “Your mother was a more noble woman than any I have known, and of course she was no slave although she had, because of a promise, dedicated herself to serve Apollo for a time. I once journeyed in Galilee and Jerusalem with her, looking for the king of the Jews and his kingdom.”

His words gave me courage. My voice trembled as I said, “Timaius told me that you were so involved in the secret conspiracies of the Jews that the magistrate was forced to expel you from Judaea, and this was why you did not regain your knighthood and not just because of a whim of Emperor Gaius.”

My father’s voice also shook as he said, “I have waited before telling you all this until you had learned to think for yourself, and I did not have to force you to think about things which not even I fully understood. But now you stand at the crossroads and must yourself choose the direction you take. I can only hope that you choose the right one. I cannot force you, for I can only offer you invisible things which I myself do not understand.”

“Father,” I said, appalled, “you haven’t secretly gone over to the Jewish faith, after having so much to do with them, have you?”

“But Minutus,” said my father in surprise. “You have been with me at the baths and athletics. You must have seen that I don’t bear the sign of allegiance on my body. If I had, I should have been laughed out of the baths.

“I don’t deny,” he went on, “that I have read a great deal in the Jewish holy scripts in order to learn to understand them better. But in reality, I bear something of a grudge against the Jews, for it was they who crucified their king. I’ve borne a grudge against the Jews because of your mother’s painful death, yes, even against their king, who on the third day arose from the dead and founded an invisible kingdom. His Jewish pupils still believe that he will return and found a visible kingdom, but all this is very involved and unreasonable, and I cannot teach you anything about it. Your mother would have been able to do so, for as a woman she understood better than I about the affairs of the kingdom, and I still cannot understand why she had to die for my sake.”

I was beginning to doubt my father’s sanity and I thought about how he in all things behaved differently from most people.

“Then have you drunk blood with the Jews in their superstitious rites?” I said roughly.

My father looked very troubled.

“This is something you cannot understand,” he said, “for you know nothing about it.”

But he took a key and unlocked a chest, taking out a worn wooden goblet and holding it gently between his hands. He showed it to me.

“This is your mother Myrina’s goblet,” he said, “and from this goblet we together drank the wine of immortality one moonless night on a mountain in Galilee. And the goblet did not empty, although we both drank deeply from it. And the king appeared to us and spoke to every one of us, although we were more than five hundred. To your mother, he said that never again in her life need she be thirsty. But afterwards I promised his pupils that I should never try to teach anyone these things, as they considered that the kingdom belonged to the Jews and I, as a Roman, had no part in it.”

I realized that this was the enchanted goblet Timaius had said was of the Goddess of Fortune. I took it in my hand, but to my hand and my eyes it was but a worn wooden goblet, although I did feel a tenderness at the thought that my mother had handled it and prized it highly.

I looked sympathetically at my father and said, “I cannot blame you ~ for your superstition, for the magic arts of the Jews have confused the heads of wiser men than you. Without doubt the goblet has brought success and wealth to you, but I wish to say nothing about immortality, for I don’t want to hurt you. And as far as a new god is concerned, there are old gods who have died and returned, such as Osiris and Tammuz and Attis and Adonis and Dionysius, not to mention many others. But all these are but parables and tales which those initiated into the mysteries revere. Educated people no longer drink blood and I have had more than enough of mysteries, thanks to stupid girls who hang colored ribbons in the bushes.”

My father shook his head and pressed his hands together. “Oh, if only I could make you understand,” he said.

“I understand only too well, even if I am not fully grown,” I assured him. “I have, after all, learned something here in Antioch. You talk about Christ, but the new superstition is even more pernicious and shameful than the other teachings of the Jews. It’s true he was crucified, but he was by no means a king and neither did he rise from the dead. His disciples stole his body from the tomb so that they would not be ashamed before the people. It is not worth talking about him. The Jews see to all the talking and the bickering.”

My father began to argue the matter with me.

“He was truly a king,” he said. “It was even put in three languages on his cross. Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews. I read it with my own eyes. If you don’t believe the Jews, then you must believe the Roman governor. And his disciples did not steal his body, even if the Jews did bribe the guards to say so. I know that because I myself was there and saw it all with my own eyes. And once I met him myself, on the east shore of the lake of Galilee, after he had risen from the dead. At least, I still believe that it was he. It was he himself who led me to find your mother. She at that time was having trouble in the city of Tiberias. Admittedly, sixteen years have passed since these events, but I can still see them clearly before my eyes when you upset me by your inability to understand.”

I could not afford to make my father angry with me.

“I don’t wish to argue with you about divine matters,” I said hastily. “There is only one thing I want to know. Can you return to Rome whenever you wish? Timaius maintained that you can never return to Rome because of your past.”

My father stiffened, frowned and looked sternly at me.

“I am Marcus Mezentius Manilianus,” he said, “and I can certainly return to Rome whenever I wish. I am not an exile and Antioch is no place of banishment. You should know that yourself. But I have my own private reasons for not going to Rome. Now I should be able to do so, if forced to, now that I am elderly and no longer as receptive to influences as I was when I was younger. Other reasons you need not ask about. You would not understand them.”

I was pleased with his assurances and cried, “You spoke of a dividing of the ways and my future which I myself must choose. What were you thinking about?”

My father wiped his forehead hesitantly, weighed his words carefully and finally said, “The men here in Antioch who know the way best have nowadays begun to realize that the kingdom does not belong only to the Jews. I suspect, or to be quite honest, I know, that even uncircumcised Greeks and Syrians have been baptized and allowed to take part in their meals. This has aroused many disputes, but at the moment there is a Jew here from Cyprus whom I once met in Jerusalem. He has with him, as his helper, a Jew called Saul, from Tarsus, whom I had also seen during his time in Damascus, once when he was led into the city. He had lost his sight during a divine revelation, but later it was returned to him. He is a man worth meeting. My dearest wish is that you should seek out these men and listen to their teachings. If they can convince you, they will baptize you as a subject of the kingdom of Christ and you will be allowed to partake in their secret meals. That is, without circumcision, for you need not fear coming under the jurisdiction of Jewish law.”

I could not believe my ears.

“You really wish me to be initiated into Jewish rites?” I cried. “To worship some crucified king and a kingdom that doesn’t exist? What else can one call something one cannot see?”

“The fault is mine,” my father said impatiently, “and I am sure I am using the wrong words, as I cannot convince you. Anyhow, you would have nothing to lose by listening to what these men have to say.”

But the very thought filled me with fear.

“I’ll never let the Jews sprinkle their consecrated water over me,” I cried. “And neither will I agree to drink blood with them. Then I’d lose the last remaining shreds of my good reputation.”

Once again my father tried patiently to explain that in any case Saul was an educated man and a Jew who had been to the school of rhetoric in Tarsus, and not only slaves and craftsmen, but also many noble ladies in Antioch secretly went to listen to him. But I put my hands over my ears, stamped my foot, and cried shrilly and uncontrollably, “No, no, no!”

My father returned to his senses and said in colder tones, “The choice lies with you. The learned Emperor C laudius has no doubt calculated that next spring it will be eight bundled vents since the foundation of the city. To be sure, the god Augustus celebrated this centenary, and there are many people still alive who joined in. But another centenary feast will give us an excellent lenson for going to Rome.”

Before he even had time to finish, I had flung my arms around his neck, kissed him, cried aloud in delight and rushed round the room, for I was still but a boy. Then his freedmen began to arrive for the feast and he had to go out into the hall to greet them and receive their gifts. I stood beside my father as a sign that he meant to stand by me in all things. They were very pleased about this, stroked my hair, consoled me over the loss of my horse and admired my bandages.

When they were lying at table and I was sitting on a stool at my father’s feet, since I was still a minor, my father explained that the point of this meeting was a family consultation about my future.

“Let us begin by fortifying ourselves with wine. Wine loosens the tongue, and we need all the good advice we can get.”

He did not sprinkle wine onto the floor, but Barbus was not frightened by this atheism. He made an offering to the gods instead and pronounced the greeting in a loud voice. I followed his example and the freedmen too sprinkled at least a drop of wine onto the floor with their fingertips, even if they said nothing aloud. My heart swelled with love when I saw them all, for all of them had done their best to spoil me and wished that I should grow up into a man with whose reputation their reputation too would grow. They expected nothing more from my father, for they had already become used to him.

“When I had bought your freedman’s staves,” my father continued, “I let you drink of the wine of eternity from my late wife’s wooden goblet. But you never began to assemble your riches, save for the mundane things of this world, which can come to an end at any moment. Yet that is only as it should be, for I should be tormented by my satiety and my wealth and the many useless works which I do not value at all. I wish for nothing but to live quietly and humbly.”

The freedmen hurried to assure him that they too tried to live as quietly and humbly as was possible for successful businessmen. Boasting about one’s wealth only led to increases in tax and obligatory donations to the city. And none of them wished to boast about the past when they had been slaves.

“For your sake and because of the obstinacy of my son Minutus,” my father said, “I cannot go the new way, which has now been opened to the uncircumcised, both Greeks and Romans. If I admitted to being a Christian, as this way is called, as distinct from the Jewish faith, then you and all my household would be forced to follow suit, and I do not believe that any good can come of this. I cannot believe, for instance, that Barbus would participate with any spirit, no matter who laid hands on his head and blew on him. Not to speak of Minutus, who lost control of himself to the extent of screaming at the very thought of it.

“Therefore,” my father went on, “the time has come to talk about my family. What I do, I do thoroughly. Minutus and I will travel to Rome and there I shall retrieve my rank of knight in conjunction with the centenary festivities. Minutus will receive the man-toga in Rome in the presence of his family. And he will receive a horse in place of the one he has lost here.”

For me this was a surprise of which I had not even dared dream. At the most I had thought that sometime, thanks to my boldness and talents, I should be able to return to my father the honor he had lost through the Emperor’s whim. But it was not news to the freedmen. From their behavior, I realized they had long been putting pressure on my father in this direction, for they themselves had honor and benefits to gain from my father’s regaining his knighthood. They nodded now and explained that they had already been in contact with the freedmen of Emperor Claudius, who looked after important matters in the administration of the State. My father also owned property on Aventine and land in Caere, and so more than fulfilled the conditions of income demantled of the rank of knight.

My father bade them be silent and explained.

“All this is of less importance,” he said. “The essential thing is that I have at last succeeded in acquiring the necessary papers on Minutus’ ancestors. This has demantled a great deal of judicial knowledge. At first I thought I should quite simply adopt him on the day he came of age, but my counsel persuaded me that such a measure would not be favorable. In that case his legal Roman descent would have been in doubt forever.”

After unfolding a mass of papers, my father read aloud from them and explained them more thoroughly.

“The most important of these is a marriage contract between Myrina and myself, certified by the Roman authority in Damascus. This is indubitably a genuine and legal certificate, for after my wife had been made pregnant by me in Damascus, I was very happy and wanted to strengthen the position of my heir-to-be.”

After looking at the ceiling for a while, he went on:

“Investigating into Minutus’ mother’s ancestors has been much more difficult, for at the time I did not regard it as essential and so we never even talked about it together. After long investigations it has been definitely shown that her family originally stemmed from the city of

Myrina in the province of Asia, near the city of Cyme. It was my counsel who advised me to start from this city in my search, because of the similarity of name. It later turned out that her family, after losing their fortune, moved from there out to the islands, but their origins are extremely aristocratic, and to confirm this, I have had a statue of my wife placed in front of the courthouse in Myrina and also have made several donations in her memory. In fact my deputy had the whole of the courthouse rebuilt; it was not large and the city fathers themselves offered to trace back Myrina’s family to ancient times, yes, back to one of the river gods, but this I thought unnecessary. On the island of Cos, my deputy found a venerable old priest in the temple of Esculapius, who remembered Myrina’s parents very well and could confirm on oath that he was the brother of Myrina’s father. At the death of their honest but impoverished parents, the children dedicated themselves to Apollo and then left the island.”

“Oh, how I should like to meet that uncle of my mother’s,” I said eagerly, “if he is the one and only living relative on my mother’s side.”

“That won’t be necessary,” my father hastened to say. “He is a very old man with a bad memory and I have seen to it that he has a roof over his head, food and someone to lead him until he dies. All you need remember is that on your mother’s side, you are of noble Greek descent. When you are adult, you can remember the poor city of Myrina sometime with a suitable gift, so that the matter is not completely forgotten.

“I also,” he went on quickly, “belong to the Manilian family by adoption, and my name is therefore Manilianus. My foster-father, that is your legal grandfather, was the famous astronomer Manilius, who published a work on astronomy which is still studied in libraries all over the world. But you have undoubtedly wondered about your other name-Mezentius. This brings me to your real descent. The famous Maecenas, friend of the god Augustus, was a distant relative of mine and held his hand over my father’s parents, even if he did forget them in his will. He on his part was descended from the rulers of Caere, who were kings long before Aeneas fled from Troy. In this way Roman blood also runs in the former Etruscans. But legally speaking, we should count ourselves as members of the Manilianus family. In Rome it is better to keep silent about the Etruscans, for the Romans do not like to be reminded that the Etruscans once ruled over them.”

My father was speaking in such a dignified way that we all listened in silence, and only Barbus remembered to fortify himself with wine occasionally.

“My adoptive father, Manilius, was a poor man,” my father went on. “He squandered his fortune on books and research into the stars, instead of earning money by the art of divination. It was due more to the absentmindedness of the god Tiberius than to himself that he was allowed to retain his knighthood. It would take too long to relate how I spent my hungry youth as a clerk here in Antioch. The main reason for this was that I could not have a horse because of the poverty of the Manilianus family. But when I returned to Rome, I had the good fortune to win the favor of a highly placed woman whose name I shall not reveal. This experienced woman introduced me to an old and sickly but noble-minded widow. In her will, this lady left me her entire fortune so that I could confirm my right to wear the gold ring, but then I was already nearly thirty years old and was no longer interested in official service. In addition, the widow’s family contested the will, yes, even made the appalling accusation that the old lady had been poisoned after drawing up the will. Justice was on my side, but owing to this wretched case and also to other matters, I left Rome and went to Alexandria to study. Even if there was much gossip in Rome at the time, I don’t think anyone any longer remembers this dispute which malevolent people started. I am telling you this to show Minutus that there is nothing shameful about it and there is nothing to stop my returning to Rome. And I think that it is best, considering what has happened, that we go there as soon as possible, as long as the good sailing season lasts. Then I shall have the whole of the winter in which to arrange my affairs before the centenary celebrations.”

We had eaten and drunk. The torches outside our house began to smolder and go out, and the oil was low in the lamps. I myself had sat as silently as I could, trying not to scratch my arms where my wounds had already begun to irritate me. In front of the house some of the beggars in Antioch had gathered, and in accordance with good Syrian custom, my father had had the leftover food shared out among them.

Just as the freedmen were breaking up, two Jews made their way in. At first they were taken for beggars and were shown to the door. But my father hurried up to meet them and greeted them respectfully.

“No, no,” he said, “I know these men and they are messengers from the highest god. Come back in, all of you, and listen to what they have to say.”

The more dignified of the two men was very upright and had a gray beard. It was revealed that he was a Jewish merchant from Cyprus named Barnabas. He or his family owned a house in Jerusalem, and my father had met him there long before I was born. The other was considerably younger. He was dressed in a thick cloak of black goatskin, was turning bald, his ears were prominent and his eyes had such a piercing expression that the freedmen avoided them and moved their fingers as if warding off his look. This was Saul, of whom my father had’told me, but he was no longer known by his real name, for he said he had changed it to Paul. This he had done out of humility, but also because his former name had a bad reputation among the followers of Christ. Paul means the insignificant one, just as does my own name, Minutus. He was not a handsome man, but in his eyes and face there was such fire that one felt no desire to quarrel with him. I realized that whatever one said to this man, nothing would influence him. Instead, he himself desired to influence others. Compared with him, old Barnabas seemed quite a reasonable man.

My father’s freedmen were troubled by the arrival of the men, but they could not leave without offending my father. At first Barnabas and Paul behaved politely, speaking in turn and relating that the elders of their assembly had had a vision, according to which they were to set out on a journey to preach the good tidings, first to the Jews and then to the heathens. They had been to Jerusalem, too, with money for the holy men there, and their supporters had sealed their authority by the striking of hands. They had since preached God’s word with such power that even the sick had been cured. In one of the inland cities, Barnabas had been taken for Jupiter in human form and Paul for Mercury, so that the priest of the city had sought to have garlanded oxen sacrificed to them. They had only just been able to prevent such an ungodly demonstration. After that, the Jews had taken Paul from the city and stoned him and then, out of fear of the authorities, they had fled the place in the belief that Paul was dead. But he had come to life again.

“What are you possessed by, then,” the freedmen asked in wonder, “that you are not content to live like ordinary mortals, but expose yourselves to danger in order to bear witness to the son of God and the forgiveness of sins?”

Barbus burst out laughing at the thought that anyone had taken these two Jews for gods. My father reproached him and, putting both his hands to his head, said to Barnabas and Paul, “I have acquainted myself with your way, and I have tried to reconcile Jew with Jew for ill* wiln» of my own position among the city fathers. I should like to believe lliut you speak (he truth, but the spirit does not seem to reconcile you among yourselves. On the contrary, you quarrel among yourselves find one says one thing and another another. The holy ones in Jerusalem sold all their possessions and waited for your king to return. They have already waited for more than sixteen years, the money has gone and they live on alms. What do you say to this?”

Paul assured him that he for his part had never taught anyone to cease honest labor and divide his possessions among the poor. Barnabas also said that each person should do as the spirit moved him. After the holy ones in Jerusalem had begun to be persecuted and murdered, many people had fled to foreign lands, to Antioch too, setting up in business and practicing trades, and successfully, some more so and some less so.

Barnabas and Paul went on speaking until finally the freedmen were annoyed.

“Now that’s enough about your god,” they said. “We wish you no harm, but what is it you want of our master, pushing your way into his house late at night and disturbing him? He has enough troubles of his own.”

They related that their activities had stirred up bad blood amongst the Jews in Antioch, so that even the Pharisees and Sadducees had combined against them and the Christians. The Jews were conducting a lively campaign of conversion for the temple in Jerusalem and had collected rich gifts from the pious. But the Christian Jewish sect was tempting the newly converted over to its side by promising them forgiveness of their sins and maintaining that they need no longer follow the Jewish laws. For this reason the Jews were now bringing an action against the Christians in the city court. Barnabas and Paul intended to leave Antioch before this, but they feared that the council would have them followed and brought back before the court.

My father was pleased to be able to calm their fears.

“By various means,” he said, “I have managed to ensure that the city council does not interfere with Jewish internal matters of belief. The Jews themselves should settle disputes among their sects. Legally, we regard the Christian sect as one of the many Jewish ones, despite the fact that it demands neither circumcision nor complete obedience to the law of Moses. So the police in the city are duty bound to protect the Christians if other Jews attempt violence against them. In the same way, it is our duty to protect the other Jews if the Christians make trouble for them.”

Barnabas was deeply troubled.

“Both of us are Jews,” he said, “but circumcision is a seal on true Judaism. So the Jews of Antioch have claimed that although uncir-cumcised Christians are not legally Jews, they can be tried for violation and abuse of the Jewish faith.”

But my father was a stubborn man when he had something firmly in his head, and he said, “As far as I know, the only difference between Christian and Jew is that the Christians, both circumcised and uncir-cumcised, believe that the Jewish Messiah, or Christ, has already taken human form in Jesus of Nazareth, that he has risen from the dead, and that sooner or later he will return to found the kingdom of a thousand years. The Jews do not believe this, but are still waiting for their Messiah. But from a legal point of view, there is no difference, whether they believe that the Messiah has come or that he will come. The main thing is that they believe in a Messiah. The city of Antioch is neither. willing nor even competent to decide whether the Messiah has come or not. So the Jews and the Christians must settle the matter in peace among themselves, without persecuting each other.”

“So it has been and so it would still be,” said Paul passionately, “if the circumcised Christians weren’t so cowardly, like Cephas for instance, who first ate together with the uncircumcised but then withdrew from them because he was more afraid of the holy men in Jerusalem than of God. I told him straight out what I thought about his cowardice, but the damage was done and now the circumcised eat more and more frequently by themselves and the uncircumcised do the same. So the latter can no longer be called Jews, even legally. No, amongst us there are neither Jews nor Greeks, neither freedmen nor slaves, but we are all of us Christians.”

My father remarked that it would be unwise to put forward this argument to the court, since by it the Christians would lose an irreplaceable advantage and protection. It would be more rational for them to admit that they were Jews and benefit from all the political advantages of Judaism, even if they did show little respect for circumcision and the Jewish laws.

But he did not succeed in convincing these two Jews. They had their own unshakable belief that a Jew was a Jew and all others heathens, but a heathen could become Christian and in the same way a Jew could also become a Christian and then there was no difference between them, but they were one with Christ. Nevertheless, a Jew as a Christian continued to be a Jew, but a baptized heathen could become a Jew only by circumcision, and this was neither necessary nor even desirable any longer, for the whole world must know that a Christian did not need to be a Jew.

My father said bitterly that this was a philosophy that was beyond his comprehension. In his day, he himself had been humbly willing to become a subject of the kingdom of Jesus of Nazareth, but then he was not received because he was not a Jew. The leaders of the Nazareth sect had even forbidden him to talk about their king. As far as he could see, he would be wisest to continue to wait for the affairs of the kingdom to be clarified so that they would also be comprehensible to simpler minds. Clearly it was providence that was now sending him to Rome, for such unpleasantness was to be expected in Antioch from both Jews and Christians that even the best mediators could no longer offer a solution.

But he promised to suggest to the city council that the Christians should not be tried for having violated the Jewish faith, since they by receiving the baptism, devised by the Jews, and by admitting a Jewish Messiah as their king, in any case de facto if not also literally de. jure, in some way or other were Jews. If the council admitted this standpoint, then the matter could at least be postponed and the Jews’ action set aside for a time.

With this Barnabas and Paul were satisfied, and indeed they could hardly be otherwise. My father assured them that his sympathies in any case lay more with the Christians than with the Jews. The freedmen on their part implored my father to ask to be allowed to resign from the city council without delay, for he had enough to do with his own affairs. But my father quite rightly replied that just at this moment it was impossible for him to do so, for a public application for resignation would make everyone believe that he in fact regarded me as guilty of sacrilege.

The freedmen began seriously to fear that my father’s obvious sympathies with the Christians would make the people suspect that he had perhaps encouraged me, his son, with the view in mind of violating the girls’ innocent rites. For both Christians and Jews felt an equally implacable aversion to idols, holy sacrifices and hereditary rites.

“The Christians who have been baptized and then have drunk blood with their fellow believers,” said the freedmen, “pull down and burn their household idols and destroy their expensive fortunetelling books instead of selling them for a reasonable price to people who could still use them. This impetuous intolerance makes them dangerous.

You, our good patient master, should have no more to do with them, or things might go badly for your son.”

In all honor to my father, it must be said that after the visit from the two Jews, he no longer pressed me to go and listen to their teachings. After disagreeing with other Jews, they also began quarreling between themselves, and they left Antioch in different directions. The faithful Jews calmed down after their departure, for the moderate Jews avoided open and public conflict and kept themselves to themselves in their own secret society.

At my father’s suggestion, the city fathers refused to allow the Jews’ complaint against Paul and Barnabas, and proclaimed that the Jews themselves must settle their own disagreements. With the help of some determination, it was also easier to hand over the dispute concerning me and my friends to be solved by the oracle in Daphne. Our parents paid heavy fines and we ourselves underwent purification ceremonies in the groves of Daphne for three days and three nights. The parents of the girls we had violated no longer dared press us with proposals of. marriage. But in connection with the purification ceremonies, we were forced to make a certain promise to the Moon Goddess, but this I could not tell my father, nor did he ask me about it.

My father, contrary to his usual habit, went with me to the amphitheater, where we seven youths were allowed to occupy the place of honor behind the city authorities at the next performance. Our lion had undergone a slimming course and was skillfully spurred on to conduct itself in the arena far better than we had dared to hope. With little difficulty it tore apart a malefactor who had been condemned to be thrown to the beasts of prey; then bit the first gladiator in the knee, and fell while fighting fearlessly to the end. The crowd roared with delight and honored the lion and ourselves by rising to its feet and applauding. I think my father was proud of me, although he said nothing.

Several days later, we said good-bye to the tearful servants and traveled to the port of Seleucia. There we boarded a ship, my father and I, with Barbus following, to sail to Naples and from there to Rome.