I, Claudius (1934) by Robert Graves

Author:Robert Graves [Graves, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historic Fiction, Classic
Google: MBtrBwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B000H85PYQ
Publisher: Vintage Books
Published: 1961-08-14T12:00:00+00:00

XVIII

ONE SUMMER AFTERNOON AT CAPUA I WAS SITTING ON a stone bench behind the stables of my villa, thinking out some problem of Etruscan history and idly shooting dice, left hand against right, on the rough plank table in front of me. A raggedly dressed man came up and asked whether I was Tiberius Claudius Drusus Nero Germanicus: he had been directed here from Rome, he said.

"I have a message for you, sir. I don't know whether it's worth delivering but I'm an old soldier on the tramp—one of your father's veterans, sir—and you know what it is, I'm glad of having an excuse for taking one road rather than another."

"Who gave you the message?"

"A fellow I met in the woods near Cape Cosa. Curious sort of fellow. He was dressed like a slave but he spoke like a Caesar. A big thick-set fellow and looked half starved."

"What name did he give?"

"No name at all. He said you'd know who he was by the message, and be surprised to hear from him. He made me repeat the message twice to make sure I had it right. I was to say that he was still fishing, but that a man couldn't live wholly on fish, and that you were to pass the word to his brother-in-law, and that if the milk was sent it never reached him, and that he wanted a little book to read, at least seven pages long. And that you were not to do anything until you heard from him again. Does that make sense, sir, or was the fellow cracked?"

When he said that, I could not believe my ears. Postumus! But Postumus was dead. "Has he a big jaw, blue eyes and a way of tilting his head on one side when he asks you a question?"

"That's the man, sir."

I poured him out a drink with a hand so shaky that I spilt as much as I poured. Then, signing that he was to wait there for me, I went into the house. I found two good plain gowns and some underclothes and sandals and a pair of razors and some soap. Then I took the first sewn-sheet book that came to hand—it happened to be a copy of some recent speeches of Tiberius to the Senate—and on the seventh page I wrote in milk: What joy! I will write to G. at once. Be careful. Send for whatever you need. Where can I see you? My dearest love to you. Here are twenty gold pieces, all I have at the moment, but quick gifts are double gifts, I hope.

I waited for the page to dry and then gave the man the book and clothes wrapped in a bundle, and a purse. I said: "Take these thirty gold pieces. Ten are for yourself.

Twenty are for the man in the woods. Bring back a message from him and you shall have ten more. But keep your mouth shut and be back soon."

"Good enough, sir," he said. "I'll not fail you.

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