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Amica
- Thread starter Velut Luna
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LittleSiss
Sorceress
And with all of her wonderful facts and beautiful flourishes, she still manages to impart an amazingly abstract and mysterious emotion that can be felt as well as embraced.
Velut Luna
Sibilla Cumana
Amica 25
Here come the public to see the Atellana, after paying a few 'assi' for entry to the theatre steps. These are formed simply on the sloping ground with hewn stones arranged in semi-circles to form terraces of seats, and a platform raised on a stone shelf forms the stage, facing the fourth tier.
There are people who come from nearby villages, farms - small landowners, farmers, simple peasants, 'liberti' (slaves freed), idlers of various kinds, many young people, some have also come from Pompeii, Herculaneum, Oplontis and Octavianus after a trip in their 'bighe' (carriages).
All the guests sit on the seats reserved for them on the first terrace, and even the servants and handmaids of Lucius, apart from those involved in the preparation of dinner, attend the show, sitting at the ends of the rows so they can go and fetch food and drink for guests.
For the public, drinks and fruit, both fresh and dried, are on sale, a service organized by a landlord who owns a tavern at Quarto. Some slaves carry merchandise - dried carob, dried figs, walnuts, hazelnuts and almonds, all shelled. One bears a wooden tray supported by cords on her bosom, over her shoulder she carries a small skin bag of wine mixed with water and spices, she proceeds along the spaces between the seats.
Pliny, Pomponius (who arrived from Stabia in the afternoon) and Lucius are sitting in a grandstand in the centre of the front row. Their seats have a wooden base and backrest covered with cushions and carpets. The slavegirl of Lucius - the one who sleeps in his room - Eulalia and I are sitting in the second row ready to serve the important guests and our Master. We’ve an amphora of good wine and fresh water, and a basket of food to be eaten during the show.
The Master of Ceremonies, welcomed by applause and a standing ovation, opens the show with a short speech announcing the topic of the first performance. More applause and even wilder cheers show that is very welcome.
'Cornibus' (horns) is the title of the play.
The curtain rises, the actors come on with sistra (metal rattles), shaking and beating on tambourines with chimes, striking together strange wooden instruments that make a lot of noise, they’re crepitacula (rattles), you tell me, then all goes silent as if by magic.
A character with tousled hair braided with vines, with a mask representing a grinning face, pale but with ruddy cheeks like those of a drunkard, appears, just poking his head between two red curtains, looking right and left as if to explore the surroundings.
'Has anyone seen my wife?'
The audience bursts into uncontrollable laughter, it’s Pappus!
Someone answers him from among the audience, but it’s an actor,
'I saw her myself, as I was coming here - your wife is hidden behind a bush with a young slave!'
'By Bacchus! May the gods roast that rascal’s cock! '
'If it's anything like yours, it's as soft as a fig!'
exclaims Pappus’s wife, as she comes on the scene still straightening her tunic under her belt and running her hands through her hair-wig to preen it.
Another roar of uncontrollable laughter.
And so, scene after scene, joke after joke, interspersed with laughter and applause, whistles addressed to Pappus, approval, with cries of 'bona!' to his wife, as the various characters come onto the stage.
I’m struggling greatly to understand their lines because the language doesn’t sound anything like the Latin Eulalia is teaching me, it’s a mixture of vulgar Latin and Oscan, and lots of the words have double meanings, but I still enjoy it, the scenes are nice and the audience joins in cheerfully. It’s not just the performance of the actors, it’s such a mixture of collective feeling and general fun that I expect that at any moment someone from the audience may jump on stage - it happens sometimes, but actors are also strategically hidden among the people.
Between one comedy and another, while the stage-sets are changed in the background, jugglers and mimes, both men and women, enter the arena in front of the stage to entertain and distract the public with their tricks, while slaves distribute food and drink.
After the fourth comedy, the evening sun’s already going down and illuminating only the tops of the mountains behind Stabia and Sorrento. The water in the amphora is no longer fresh, so I have to go to fill it. I climb the steps between the tiers of public seating – that’s silly of me, I immediately have to dodge groping by some over-excited boy who’s taken me for one of the girls in the company of mimes.
I return with my full pitcher resting on my head, as the women here do to carry a heavy load elegantly and with little effort. Using the steps outside the amphitheatre, I enter the space between the stands and the arena - but I haven't realized that the 'denudatio mimarum' (stripping of the mime-girls) was starting!
Now a mimus albus (white-costumed mime) jumps on me and grabs me, with one hand gripping my breast, with the other spanking my ass. With a muffled cry, I complain that I'm not one of the girls of the company, I have to carry the water to Pliny! But I don't spill much, I keep it well-balanced, and I'm saved by one of the guests who gets the mime’s attention and makes him understand the situation.
The mime apologizes, kneeling in front of me, bowing exaggeratedly so his forehead touches the ground, then gets up and escorts me, always bowing and making signals to let me proceed safely - but behind my back, he’s making obscene gestures, the audience applauds with amusement.
As I approach red-faced with shame the little thrones on which the guests of honour are seated, the guest who's sitting to the left of Pliny gets up and helps me set down the jar. The mime vanishes, fleeing to the stage, now he’s in pursuit of a half-naked girl.
With a gesture I will never forget, the guest who helped me gives me the seat beside Pliny, and climbs over to occupy the seat in the second row, next to Eulalia. Passing cups from one to the other, I now distribute the fresh water that has cost me more than a little fright and a good dose of embarrassment, but it seems as if it was all perfectly normal.
This horseplay of denudatio mimarum is a very popular interlude for the crowd. It's obscene to an extent that I couldn’t imagine just being performed in front of everyone: a girl, usually a young prostitute, enters the arena, running from side to side, chased by a mime holding a piece of gut in which are hidden pieces of cloth wrapped around some sticks, so it mimics a big, long phallus poking out from under his tunic. Meanwhile others obstruct and try to strip the girl, poor thing - but she enjoys it too, she screams and tries to run away, and they let her, scamper away half-naked, until the actors catch the poor girl and strip her completely naked, then the mime pretends to rape her to the applause and cheers of the audience. It’s repeated with more girls until, at the nod of the Master of Ceremonies, a new comedy starts.
Here come the public to see the Atellana, after paying a few 'assi' for entry to the theatre steps. These are formed simply on the sloping ground with hewn stones arranged in semi-circles to form terraces of seats, and a platform raised on a stone shelf forms the stage, facing the fourth tier.
There are people who come from nearby villages, farms - small landowners, farmers, simple peasants, 'liberti' (slaves freed), idlers of various kinds, many young people, some have also come from Pompeii, Herculaneum, Oplontis and Octavianus after a trip in their 'bighe' (carriages).
All the guests sit on the seats reserved for them on the first terrace, and even the servants and handmaids of Lucius, apart from those involved in the preparation of dinner, attend the show, sitting at the ends of the rows so they can go and fetch food and drink for guests.
For the public, drinks and fruit, both fresh and dried, are on sale, a service organized by a landlord who owns a tavern at Quarto. Some slaves carry merchandise - dried carob, dried figs, walnuts, hazelnuts and almonds, all shelled. One bears a wooden tray supported by cords on her bosom, over her shoulder she carries a small skin bag of wine mixed with water and spices, she proceeds along the spaces between the seats.
Pliny, Pomponius (who arrived from Stabia in the afternoon) and Lucius are sitting in a grandstand in the centre of the front row. Their seats have a wooden base and backrest covered with cushions and carpets. The slavegirl of Lucius - the one who sleeps in his room - Eulalia and I are sitting in the second row ready to serve the important guests and our Master. We’ve an amphora of good wine and fresh water, and a basket of food to be eaten during the show.
The Master of Ceremonies, welcomed by applause and a standing ovation, opens the show with a short speech announcing the topic of the first performance. More applause and even wilder cheers show that is very welcome.
'Cornibus' (horns) is the title of the play.
The curtain rises, the actors come on with sistra (metal rattles), shaking and beating on tambourines with chimes, striking together strange wooden instruments that make a lot of noise, they’re crepitacula (rattles), you tell me, then all goes silent as if by magic.
A character with tousled hair braided with vines, with a mask representing a grinning face, pale but with ruddy cheeks like those of a drunkard, appears, just poking his head between two red curtains, looking right and left as if to explore the surroundings.
'Has anyone seen my wife?'
The audience bursts into uncontrollable laughter, it’s Pappus!
Someone answers him from among the audience, but it’s an actor,
'I saw her myself, as I was coming here - your wife is hidden behind a bush with a young slave!'
'By Bacchus! May the gods roast that rascal’s cock! '
'If it's anything like yours, it's as soft as a fig!'
exclaims Pappus’s wife, as she comes on the scene still straightening her tunic under her belt and running her hands through her hair-wig to preen it.
Another roar of uncontrollable laughter.
And so, scene after scene, joke after joke, interspersed with laughter and applause, whistles addressed to Pappus, approval, with cries of 'bona!' to his wife, as the various characters come onto the stage.
I’m struggling greatly to understand their lines because the language doesn’t sound anything like the Latin Eulalia is teaching me, it’s a mixture of vulgar Latin and Oscan, and lots of the words have double meanings, but I still enjoy it, the scenes are nice and the audience joins in cheerfully. It’s not just the performance of the actors, it’s such a mixture of collective feeling and general fun that I expect that at any moment someone from the audience may jump on stage - it happens sometimes, but actors are also strategically hidden among the people.
Between one comedy and another, while the stage-sets are changed in the background, jugglers and mimes, both men and women, enter the arena in front of the stage to entertain and distract the public with their tricks, while slaves distribute food and drink.
After the fourth comedy, the evening sun’s already going down and illuminating only the tops of the mountains behind Stabia and Sorrento. The water in the amphora is no longer fresh, so I have to go to fill it. I climb the steps between the tiers of public seating – that’s silly of me, I immediately have to dodge groping by some over-excited boy who’s taken me for one of the girls in the company of mimes.
I return with my full pitcher resting on my head, as the women here do to carry a heavy load elegantly and with little effort. Using the steps outside the amphitheatre, I enter the space between the stands and the arena - but I haven't realized that the 'denudatio mimarum' (stripping of the mime-girls) was starting!
Now a mimus albus (white-costumed mime) jumps on me and grabs me, with one hand gripping my breast, with the other spanking my ass. With a muffled cry, I complain that I'm not one of the girls of the company, I have to carry the water to Pliny! But I don't spill much, I keep it well-balanced, and I'm saved by one of the guests who gets the mime’s attention and makes him understand the situation.
The mime apologizes, kneeling in front of me, bowing exaggeratedly so his forehead touches the ground, then gets up and escorts me, always bowing and making signals to let me proceed safely - but behind my back, he’s making obscene gestures, the audience applauds with amusement.
As I approach red-faced with shame the little thrones on which the guests of honour are seated, the guest who's sitting to the left of Pliny gets up and helps me set down the jar. The mime vanishes, fleeing to the stage, now he’s in pursuit of a half-naked girl.
With a gesture I will never forget, the guest who helped me gives me the seat beside Pliny, and climbs over to occupy the seat in the second row, next to Eulalia. Passing cups from one to the other, I now distribute the fresh water that has cost me more than a little fright and a good dose of embarrassment, but it seems as if it was all perfectly normal.
This horseplay of denudatio mimarum is a very popular interlude for the crowd. It's obscene to an extent that I couldn’t imagine just being performed in front of everyone: a girl, usually a young prostitute, enters the arena, running from side to side, chased by a mime holding a piece of gut in which are hidden pieces of cloth wrapped around some sticks, so it mimics a big, long phallus poking out from under his tunic. Meanwhile others obstruct and try to strip the girl, poor thing - but she enjoys it too, she screams and tries to run away, and they let her, scamper away half-naked, until the actors catch the poor girl and strip her completely naked, then the mime pretends to rape her to the applause and cheers of the audience. It’s repeated with more girls until, at the nod of the Master of Ceremonies, a new comedy starts.
I love the atmosphere - the life of a slavegirl in an aristocratic Roman household is in some ways very privileged,
but there's always this sense of walking a tightrope, always under threat - the fear of failure, getting it wrong, on one side,
the fear of what men can - and are all too likely - to do to her on the other.
Luna's captured it so well!
but there's always this sense of walking a tightrope, always under threat - the fear of failure, getting it wrong, on one side,
the fear of what men can - and are all too likely - to do to her on the other.
Luna's captured it so well!
Velut Luna
Sibilla Cumana
Amica 26
After the fifth play, it's late and the darkness no longer allows a good view of the stage despite the torches and braziers, so the Master of Ceremonies announces the end of the show to a round of applause. The guests re-enter the domestic quarters for dinner, which is the highlight of the party - course after course, fine wines, music, ballets by marvellous dancers, all scantily clad. I try to distance myself, as I’d like to hide away, but now I am involved, I have to serve as maid of honor to Pliny! Luckily for me he wants to retire early. A bedroom has been prepared for him off the triclinium, overlooking the peristilium, with curtains across the wide entrance, so he will not suffer from the heat that already is being felt during the night.
A slightly inclined bed to assist his breathing, cosy pillows to put under his back and head, and there’s even a bed for me at his feet. I'll have to keep watch while he rests, and get him fresh water if he needs it. All the other guests, so as not to disturb the VIP, retreat to their rooms or go out of the house for a walk to enjoy the scenery in the moonlight.
The silence of the night falls, one senses only the passing of the slave who guards the house. Pliny is already asleep, although his breathing becomes more and more laboured. Half asleep, I have a vision. I see him walking supported by other people, and dense clouds of black smoke, flashes of fire, his sea-going ships are now almost high and dry because the sea has receded, on-shore winds are blowing, not allowing them to set sail, he falls, coughing.
Yes coughing - I get up and run to his bed, help him sit up and drink a cup of cold water once he’s comfortable. I don’t bother to cover my breasts, although I’d prefer to, but I fear that such a gesture could be misinterpreted as a sign of mistrust or fear.
'You are very beautiful, where are you from?'
He takes my hand gently like a father.
'I was living in a land where, during that time that you call summer, the sun never sets, and where, when the cold weather comes, the night becomes much longer than the day, and in the distant parts where we go following the herds of reindeer, night continues uninterrupted.'
'It always stays dark?'
'Not really, the moon gives light when she’s shining, but there are also the lights of the Kingdom of the Night, appearing as if they were curtains of light, very large and taking up the whole sky – they’re coloured green, purple or red, always on the move as if driven by the wind, like clouds, but they seem transparent and are very far away.'
'I've heard of this phenomenon, but I thought it was a legend told to impress me, but your story, which you’ve told so naturally and without exaggerating your description, convinces me that it is true - but you already explain things so well in Latin!'
'Eulalia is my teacher, I'm in her service as her slave, though I belong to Lucius.'
'You're lucky to be in the service of Eulalia, she’s a woman full of wisdom, a rare gem, I know how cultured she is. Take every chance to learn all you can while you're with her. But these lights of the night, do you know how they come to be there?'
'I’ve talked to Eulalia about them, but she didn’t know how to explain them. We say it is our Goddess, the Moon who sends them when she is absent, so we won’t be lonely.'
'We always attribute to the gods the things we can’t explain. You know I am one who studies nature, and I realise that phenomena must be observed without prejudging them, without any ready-made assumptions, if we’re to reveal the true nature of things.'
He drinks another glass of cool water.
'I went astray yesterday, with the very good food, the delicious wine, I haven’t obeyed the discipline I impose on myself, so now I can hardly get back to sleep - if you like we can go on talking.'
I am amazed, 'if you like' addressed to a slave, what a great man!
'Tell me about your life, how did you become a slavegirl, did your people fight against Rome?'
'My people had never encountered the Romans – we’d heard of the power of Rome from some sailors who came into our seas carrying merchandise, including coins - I saw a coin of your Emperor, what do they call him? Augustus, his face on one side, and on the opposite an arch through which he was shown driving a chariot drawn by four horses.
I’m the daughter of the leader of our people, but my family was wiped out during a party given in honour of some guests, who turned out to be treacherous murderers. They killed my father and my brothers, raped, gutted and beheaded my mother. They let in more murderers who were waiting outside the pallisade that surrounded the village, who destroyed everything, burned the houses, killed the men, caught unprepared, raped and killed all the women. I was kidnapped by one of these murderers, but I wasn’t raped once, maybe he wanted to enjoy his prey in comfort. I was dragged to their ship which was tied up to a tree. Luckily a storm plagued their journey continuously, so they hadn’t any time take advantage of me. Some died at sea, seized by the fury of the waves, and their whole booty of stolen goods was lost.
We came to an island, the killers thought it best to sell me. A Goth paid two gold coins for me. He too got no chance to rape me, it was as if he were under a curse - a mountain on the island split open, spilling rivers of blazing rocks towards the village, the Goths’ ship set sail, though it was barely seaworthy. I was then sold to the Phoenician merchant who carried me, with many others girls, here to Pompeii. Lucius bought me like a pearl of great price.'
'Your story is very sad, but here you need have no fear. Slaves are valuable resources, if they serve their masters well. If they’re not rebellious, and prove that they have talent, like Eulalia, they are freed from the bonds of slavery. But now I should rest, tomorrow I go back to Misenum.'
I'm surprised at this news... that Eulalia’s going to be released ... she’s not told me about it... I’m going to lose her... Anxiety grips me, I'm restless, can’t slept for the rest of the night... whatever shall I do without her?
The crowing of a cock just before dawn, tells me it’s time to get up - but how do the roosters knows what time it is, if they can’t read the clocks because it is still dark? I prepare for the long day. First to the bath-house, then jentaculum (breakfast). Last night I didn't bring in the water-jar, and I forgot close down the stone seat. I run outside, down the hill. The comedians have already packed all their boxes, loaded up their wagons and departed. The amphora is upside down by the seat, almost hidden, they haven’t taken it away, and it wasn’t broken, luckily for me! Looking at where they had arranged the scenes, I see something on the ground, it looks like a scroll, a parchment with writing. Curious, I pick it up and hide it, slipping it into the amphora, and quickly return to the villa.
'Wherever have you been? I've been looking everywhere! Why did you leave the house without saying where you were going?'
'I forgot the pitcher, I ran out to look for it, I was afraid it would be gone.'
'Where were your brains last night?'
'Well, it must have been my misadventure with the Mimus Albus, I was very upset!'
'Yes, yes, he groped you well! But you reacted in the best way, you didn’t try to run away, you didn’t drop the jar, you just carried on with an elegant step. Everyone enjoyed the interlude you starred in, in spite of yourself, like a good actress. It’s the kind of accident that happens to girls who are just too tasty and attractive like you are! Although you seem just a little girl, you're already attracting too much interest in these cocky cockerels!'
Perhaps the excuse of the Mimus Albus saved me from a scolding from Eulalia!
After the fifth play, it's late and the darkness no longer allows a good view of the stage despite the torches and braziers, so the Master of Ceremonies announces the end of the show to a round of applause. The guests re-enter the domestic quarters for dinner, which is the highlight of the party - course after course, fine wines, music, ballets by marvellous dancers, all scantily clad. I try to distance myself, as I’d like to hide away, but now I am involved, I have to serve as maid of honor to Pliny! Luckily for me he wants to retire early. A bedroom has been prepared for him off the triclinium, overlooking the peristilium, with curtains across the wide entrance, so he will not suffer from the heat that already is being felt during the night.
A slightly inclined bed to assist his breathing, cosy pillows to put under his back and head, and there’s even a bed for me at his feet. I'll have to keep watch while he rests, and get him fresh water if he needs it. All the other guests, so as not to disturb the VIP, retreat to their rooms or go out of the house for a walk to enjoy the scenery in the moonlight.
The silence of the night falls, one senses only the passing of the slave who guards the house. Pliny is already asleep, although his breathing becomes more and more laboured. Half asleep, I have a vision. I see him walking supported by other people, and dense clouds of black smoke, flashes of fire, his sea-going ships are now almost high and dry because the sea has receded, on-shore winds are blowing, not allowing them to set sail, he falls, coughing.
Yes coughing - I get up and run to his bed, help him sit up and drink a cup of cold water once he’s comfortable. I don’t bother to cover my breasts, although I’d prefer to, but I fear that such a gesture could be misinterpreted as a sign of mistrust or fear.
'You are very beautiful, where are you from?'
He takes my hand gently like a father.
'I was living in a land where, during that time that you call summer, the sun never sets, and where, when the cold weather comes, the night becomes much longer than the day, and in the distant parts where we go following the herds of reindeer, night continues uninterrupted.'
'It always stays dark?'
'Not really, the moon gives light when she’s shining, but there are also the lights of the Kingdom of the Night, appearing as if they were curtains of light, very large and taking up the whole sky – they’re coloured green, purple or red, always on the move as if driven by the wind, like clouds, but they seem transparent and are very far away.'
'I've heard of this phenomenon, but I thought it was a legend told to impress me, but your story, which you’ve told so naturally and without exaggerating your description, convinces me that it is true - but you already explain things so well in Latin!'
'Eulalia is my teacher, I'm in her service as her slave, though I belong to Lucius.'
'You're lucky to be in the service of Eulalia, she’s a woman full of wisdom, a rare gem, I know how cultured she is. Take every chance to learn all you can while you're with her. But these lights of the night, do you know how they come to be there?'
'I’ve talked to Eulalia about them, but she didn’t know how to explain them. We say it is our Goddess, the Moon who sends them when she is absent, so we won’t be lonely.'
'We always attribute to the gods the things we can’t explain. You know I am one who studies nature, and I realise that phenomena must be observed without prejudging them, without any ready-made assumptions, if we’re to reveal the true nature of things.'
He drinks another glass of cool water.
'I went astray yesterday, with the very good food, the delicious wine, I haven’t obeyed the discipline I impose on myself, so now I can hardly get back to sleep - if you like we can go on talking.'
I am amazed, 'if you like' addressed to a slave, what a great man!
'Tell me about your life, how did you become a slavegirl, did your people fight against Rome?'
'My people had never encountered the Romans – we’d heard of the power of Rome from some sailors who came into our seas carrying merchandise, including coins - I saw a coin of your Emperor, what do they call him? Augustus, his face on one side, and on the opposite an arch through which he was shown driving a chariot drawn by four horses.
I’m the daughter of the leader of our people, but my family was wiped out during a party given in honour of some guests, who turned out to be treacherous murderers. They killed my father and my brothers, raped, gutted and beheaded my mother. They let in more murderers who were waiting outside the pallisade that surrounded the village, who destroyed everything, burned the houses, killed the men, caught unprepared, raped and killed all the women. I was kidnapped by one of these murderers, but I wasn’t raped once, maybe he wanted to enjoy his prey in comfort. I was dragged to their ship which was tied up to a tree. Luckily a storm plagued their journey continuously, so they hadn’t any time take advantage of me. Some died at sea, seized by the fury of the waves, and their whole booty of stolen goods was lost.
We came to an island, the killers thought it best to sell me. A Goth paid two gold coins for me. He too got no chance to rape me, it was as if he were under a curse - a mountain on the island split open, spilling rivers of blazing rocks towards the village, the Goths’ ship set sail, though it was barely seaworthy. I was then sold to the Phoenician merchant who carried me, with many others girls, here to Pompeii. Lucius bought me like a pearl of great price.'
'Your story is very sad, but here you need have no fear. Slaves are valuable resources, if they serve their masters well. If they’re not rebellious, and prove that they have talent, like Eulalia, they are freed from the bonds of slavery. But now I should rest, tomorrow I go back to Misenum.'
I'm surprised at this news... that Eulalia’s going to be released ... she’s not told me about it... I’m going to lose her... Anxiety grips me, I'm restless, can’t slept for the rest of the night... whatever shall I do without her?
The crowing of a cock just before dawn, tells me it’s time to get up - but how do the roosters knows what time it is, if they can’t read the clocks because it is still dark? I prepare for the long day. First to the bath-house, then jentaculum (breakfast). Last night I didn't bring in the water-jar, and I forgot close down the stone seat. I run outside, down the hill. The comedians have already packed all their boxes, loaded up their wagons and departed. The amphora is upside down by the seat, almost hidden, they haven’t taken it away, and it wasn’t broken, luckily for me! Looking at where they had arranged the scenes, I see something on the ground, it looks like a scroll, a parchment with writing. Curious, I pick it up and hide it, slipping it into the amphora, and quickly return to the villa.
'Wherever have you been? I've been looking everywhere! Why did you leave the house without saying where you were going?'
'I forgot the pitcher, I ran out to look for it, I was afraid it would be gone.'
'Where were your brains last night?'
'Well, it must have been my misadventure with the Mimus Albus, I was very upset!'
'Yes, yes, he groped you well! But you reacted in the best way, you didn’t try to run away, you didn’t drop the jar, you just carried on with an elegant step. Everyone enjoyed the interlude you starred in, in spite of yourself, like a good actress. It’s the kind of accident that happens to girls who are just too tasty and attractive like you are! Although you seem just a little girl, you're already attracting too much interest in these cocky cockerels!'
Perhaps the excuse of the Mimus Albus saved me from a scolding from Eulalia!
Velut Luna
Sibilla Cumana
But they did not know that I was a Sibilla!Thank God they didn't throw you overboard
Sailors can be a bit superstitious
RacingRodent
Consul
But they did not know that I was a Sibilla!
Isn't it worse luck to throw a sibilla overboard anyway? Safer to sell her for siller
Velut Luna
Sibilla Cumana
Part Three
Amica 27
The house is quiet now, everyone’s gone, even Pliny and Lucius. There’s plenty of mess after the party, we all have to rearrange everything for cleaning.
Eulalia is directing the work, giving each of the slaves their jobs. Me too, of course, I have to work with another slave - we have to go to the laundry to wash various cloths, robes, and bath-towels. Lye (alkaline ash, caustic soda) is mixed with the water which the sun has already made hot, filling the stone basin in which we immerse the white cloth. We don’t touch the water with the ash dissolved in it with our hands, we’d be likely to burn our skin, so we stir the washing with long sticks, then we extract them one by one from the tank and lay them on a smooth, sloping stone, and hit them repeatedly with a fullers’ bat (baculum fullonium). With this we squeeze out all the washing water, then we pass them several times through the running water of a stream, which is diverted through a tank next to the washing-place. Next, now we can take the cloths with our hands, we wring them out and then hang them on lines stretched between the branches of two trees.
The wind and the heat of the sun will soon dry them, we’ve caught just the right moment, 'puncto temporis' or 'ῥοπῇ τοῦ χρόνουì' Eulalia would say.
So we go on, doing one job after another, on this beautiful summer day, with the wonderful view of the Bay - the sea has a special colour, not pale grey as it is by my country. The sun has brought a change to the colour of my skin too, and my hair seems now even brighter and more beautiful.
Then, during the hottest hours of the day, I do my exercises in reading, writing on tablets covered with soft wax, and then the Latin and Greek grammar, with declensions of nouns, conjugations of verbs, and phrases from the most famous writers. Then come history, philosophy, but also arithmetic and geometry - don’t I know you, Eulalia! But you’re pleased with me, I learn quickly and always remember what you’ve taught me. Secretly, I read the paper I found in the theatre and hid in the amphora. I feel guilty for not having given it to Eulalia, but I read it alone, I'm curious - and having been well-taught, I could quote a few phrases.
'Eulalia, please explain to me what this means, “cojto ergo sum”?'
'What are you saying, silly? Perhaps you meant “cogito ergo sum”, which could be a saying of some philosopher who claims to know he exists because he thinks - but what a nice find, otherwise he would be a stone.'
'No! No! there is no 'g' for 'Gaius', it’s 'j' for 'Julius '...'
'And where do you read it?'
'On this strange bit of parchment.'
'You didn’t steal it from the library?'
'No! I’d never do such a thing, it’s a piece that I found where it had been left, on the theatre stage after Pliny had gone. I was intrigued to see all these incomprehensible signs, different from those you’re teaching me, but I only recognized the Latin and Greek ones.
'Invenita res nullius sunt' 'things found belong to no-one' and therefore belong to those who find them, but you're a slave and you can't own anything except what is given to you by your Master - you deserve punishment!
'You’re humiliating me, Eulalia, I feel like I’m a naked worm!'
'I don’t mean to humiliate you, I just want to let you know that, unfortunately, you, like me, live in at our particular rank, we are slaves and we have to respect the rules that are imposed on us. If we put up with things, if we don’t rebel, if we don’t steal what has not been granted to us, we will not be punished. I, too, was once rich and possessed what belonged to me, as you were also a princess, a queen now, but you're a queen-slave of Rome, you don’t even belong to yourself, you belong to Lucius. 'Serva nihil habet, etiam corpus eius' (a slave-woman owns nothing, not even her body) - what's written on your collar? 'Lucius Silius Satrianus owns the slave Amica'.
'Omnes homines liberi aequique dignitate atque iuribus nascuntur' (all men are born free and have equal respect before the law), but if you become a slave, it’s not so.'
I cry, a cry of despair but also of anger, I'm crying because of my faux pas that’s made Eulalia remind me I’m a slave – I’ve never had corporal punishment and perhaps that's made me forget my status as a slave, but her reproach is burning me like a thousand lashes. I’m trembling with terror, but anger too.
I give you the paper. You look at it, curious.
'See here, it's a very interesting papyrus, a kind of philosophical discourse on words, written in Latin, Greek, Oscan, Etruscan, Hebrew, Egyptian, and other languages that I can hardly recognize. They’re all phrases concerning the meaning of 'word' among the various peoples:
'Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus' (the original rose exists as a name, we have just the naked name) that is, we only have the names of things, and then:
Ἐν ἀρχῇ ἦν ὁ Λόγος, καὶ ὁ Λόγος ἦν πρὸς τὸν Θεόν, καὶ Θεός ἦν ὁ Λόγος'
'In principio erat Verbum et Verbum erat apud Deum, et Deus erat Verbum'
(In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God)
this is the beginning of a text by a Judaean writer in a book from some new religious cult.
And then there’s another:
'Ἡ δὲ [ἐποποιία] μόνον τοῖς λόγοις ψιλοῖς ἡ τοῖς μέτροις καὶ τούτοις εἴτε μιγνῦσα μετ ἀλλήλων εἴθ ἑνί τινι γένει χρωμένη τῶν μέτρων ἀνώνυμοι τυγχάνουσι μέχρι τοῦ νῦν.'
‘The art that makes use only of bare words, and the one that uses metres, either mixing them or using a single kind, are up to now nameless.' - and this is Aristotle!'
And it goes on,
“But I tell you, this is my philosophy: Cojto ergo sum!”
(I fuck therefore I am!)
It’s true, it does say 'cojto', but it's just the punch-line of this fake philosopher’s oration, who wants to remix the various ideas of the great philosophers to get credit for his own conception of existence: it all comes down to sexual pleasure, that proves he exists! But such speeches are not suitable for a virgin like you!'
Amica 27
The house is quiet now, everyone’s gone, even Pliny and Lucius. There’s plenty of mess after the party, we all have to rearrange everything for cleaning.
Eulalia is directing the work, giving each of the slaves their jobs. Me too, of course, I have to work with another slave - we have to go to the laundry to wash various cloths, robes, and bath-towels. Lye (alkaline ash, caustic soda) is mixed with the water which the sun has already made hot, filling the stone basin in which we immerse the white cloth. We don’t touch the water with the ash dissolved in it with our hands, we’d be likely to burn our skin, so we stir the washing with long sticks, then we extract them one by one from the tank and lay them on a smooth, sloping stone, and hit them repeatedly with a fullers’ bat (baculum fullonium). With this we squeeze out all the washing water, then we pass them several times through the running water of a stream, which is diverted through a tank next to the washing-place. Next, now we can take the cloths with our hands, we wring them out and then hang them on lines stretched between the branches of two trees.
The wind and the heat of the sun will soon dry them, we’ve caught just the right moment, 'puncto temporis' or 'ῥοπῇ τοῦ χρόνουì' Eulalia would say.
So we go on, doing one job after another, on this beautiful summer day, with the wonderful view of the Bay - the sea has a special colour, not pale grey as it is by my country. The sun has brought a change to the colour of my skin too, and my hair seems now even brighter and more beautiful.
Then, during the hottest hours of the day, I do my exercises in reading, writing on tablets covered with soft wax, and then the Latin and Greek grammar, with declensions of nouns, conjugations of verbs, and phrases from the most famous writers. Then come history, philosophy, but also arithmetic and geometry - don’t I know you, Eulalia! But you’re pleased with me, I learn quickly and always remember what you’ve taught me. Secretly, I read the paper I found in the theatre and hid in the amphora. I feel guilty for not having given it to Eulalia, but I read it alone, I'm curious - and having been well-taught, I could quote a few phrases.
'Eulalia, please explain to me what this means, “cojto ergo sum”?'
'What are you saying, silly? Perhaps you meant “cogito ergo sum”, which could be a saying of some philosopher who claims to know he exists because he thinks - but what a nice find, otherwise he would be a stone.'
'No! No! there is no 'g' for 'Gaius', it’s 'j' for 'Julius '...'
'And where do you read it?'
'On this strange bit of parchment.'
'You didn’t steal it from the library?'
'No! I’d never do such a thing, it’s a piece that I found where it had been left, on the theatre stage after Pliny had gone. I was intrigued to see all these incomprehensible signs, different from those you’re teaching me, but I only recognized the Latin and Greek ones.
'Invenita res nullius sunt' 'things found belong to no-one' and therefore belong to those who find them, but you're a slave and you can't own anything except what is given to you by your Master - you deserve punishment!
'You’re humiliating me, Eulalia, I feel like I’m a naked worm!'
'I don’t mean to humiliate you, I just want to let you know that, unfortunately, you, like me, live in at our particular rank, we are slaves and we have to respect the rules that are imposed on us. If we put up with things, if we don’t rebel, if we don’t steal what has not been granted to us, we will not be punished. I, too, was once rich and possessed what belonged to me, as you were also a princess, a queen now, but you're a queen-slave of Rome, you don’t even belong to yourself, you belong to Lucius. 'Serva nihil habet, etiam corpus eius' (a slave-woman owns nothing, not even her body) - what's written on your collar? 'Lucius Silius Satrianus owns the slave Amica'.
'Omnes homines liberi aequique dignitate atque iuribus nascuntur' (all men are born free and have equal respect before the law), but if you become a slave, it’s not so.'
I cry, a cry of despair but also of anger, I'm crying because of my faux pas that’s made Eulalia remind me I’m a slave – I’ve never had corporal punishment and perhaps that's made me forget my status as a slave, but her reproach is burning me like a thousand lashes. I’m trembling with terror, but anger too.
I give you the paper. You look at it, curious.
'See here, it's a very interesting papyrus, a kind of philosophical discourse on words, written in Latin, Greek, Oscan, Etruscan, Hebrew, Egyptian, and other languages that I can hardly recognize. They’re all phrases concerning the meaning of 'word' among the various peoples:
'Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus' (the original rose exists as a name, we have just the naked name) that is, we only have the names of things, and then:
Ἐν ἀρχῇ ἦν ὁ Λόγος, καὶ ὁ Λόγος ἦν πρὸς τὸν Θεόν, καὶ Θεός ἦν ὁ Λόγος'
'In principio erat Verbum et Verbum erat apud Deum, et Deus erat Verbum'
(In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God)
this is the beginning of a text by a Judaean writer in a book from some new religious cult.
And then there’s another:
'Ἡ δὲ [ἐποποιία] μόνον τοῖς λόγοις ψιλοῖς ἡ τοῖς μέτροις καὶ τούτοις εἴτε μιγνῦσα μετ ἀλλήλων εἴθ ἑνί τινι γένει χρωμένη τῶν μέτρων ἀνώνυμοι τυγχάνουσι μέχρι τοῦ νῦν.'
‘The art that makes use only of bare words, and the one that uses metres, either mixing them or using a single kind, are up to now nameless.' - and this is Aristotle!'
And it goes on,
“But I tell you, this is my philosophy: Cojto ergo sum!”
(I fuck therefore I am!)
It’s true, it does say 'cojto', but it's just the punch-line of this fake philosopher’s oration, who wants to remix the various ideas of the great philosophers to get credit for his own conception of existence: it all comes down to sexual pleasure, that proves he exists! But such speeches are not suitable for a virgin like you!'
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Velut Luna
Sibilla Cumana
Cojto ergo sum
Well, that sure upset 'Google translate'
Good philosophy, though
La locuzione Coito ergo sum, significa letteralmente “Eiaculo dunque sono”.
The term Coito Ergo Sum, literally means "Cumshot therefore I am".
Changing the 'i' with 'j' it appear more similar to the famous 'cogito ergo sum' from Renè Descartes.
RacingRodent
Consul
Luna tells me it's an Italian schoolboys' joke.
I'm well impressed with Italian schoolboys
For the pedantic record, there never was such a Latin verb *coito -
coitus is a verbal noun from co-eo 'I go together [with]',
which was used to mean (inter alia) 'I have sex [with]', 'I fuck'
I'm well impressed with Italian schoolboys
For the pedantic record, there never was such a Latin verb *coito -
coitus is a verbal noun from co-eo 'I go together [with]',
which was used to mean (inter alia) 'I have sex [with]', 'I fuck'
messaline
Crucified Amazon
Luna tells me it's an Italian schoolboys' joke.
I'm well impressed with Italian schoolboys
For the pedantic record, there never was such a Latin verb *coito -
coitus is a verbal noun from co-eo 'I go together [with]',
which was used to mean (inter alia) 'I have sex [with]', 'I fuck'
In French, we say "coïto ergo sum" but it's an alteration of the word "coït" ...
Velut Luna
Sibilla Cumana
P
Pia
Guest
You bring history alive - it breathes, we can feel it and smell it - just wonderful!