Chapter 31

77 But look at the man’s frivolity. He reached Saxa Rubra at about the tenth hour of the day, slipped into a little tavern, and hid there, drinking steadily until evening. Then he hurried to Rome in a two-wheeled carriage and came home with his head wrapped up. “Who are you?” asked the doorkeeper. “A messenger from Marcus.” He was taken at once to the woman for whose sake he had come, and handed her a letter. She read it in tears—for it was a love letter. Its main point was that he would have nothing more to do with that mime actress: he had cast off all his love for her and poured it into this woman instead. As the woman’s tears flowed still more freely, the tenderhearted fellow could bear it no longer: he bared his head and wrapped his arms about her neck. Such a scoundrel! What other name can I give him? I can find no more fitting words. So, for the sake of letting the woman see her catamite, beyond all her hopes, when you suddenly revealed yourself, you threw Rome into a night of terror and Italy into many days of fear?

77 But look how flighty this man is. He reached Saxa Rubra around the tenth daylight hour. He hid in a little tavern. He stayed hidden there and drank heavily until evening. Then a two-wheeled carriage rushed him into Rome. He came home with his head wrapped up. The doorkeeper asked, “Who are you?” “A messenger from Marcus.” He was taken straight to the woman he’d come for. He handed her a letter. She read it and cried. It was a love letter. Its main point was this: he’d have nothing more to do with that actress. He’d dropped all his love for her. He’d poured it all into this woman instead. The woman started crying even harder. Our softhearted man couldn’t take it. He uncovered his head and threw his arms around her neck. What a worthless man! What else can I say? I can’t find a word that fits better. So you frightened Rome that night. You kept Italy scared for days. Was it all so that woman could see you, a boy-whore, suddenly appear when she least expected you?