Apocolocyntosis | Page 6

son called Great; Claudius
gave him his name back, and took away his head. In one family he
destroyed Crassus, Magnus, Scribonia, the Tristionias, Assario, noble
though they were; Crassus indeed such a fool that he might have been
emperor. Is this he you want now to make a god? Look at his body,
born under the wrath of heaven! In fine, let him say the three words
[Footnote: Some formula such as _ais esse meum_.] quickly, and he
may have me for a slave. God! who will worship this god, who will
believe in him? While you make gods of such as he, no one will believe
you to be gods To be brief, my lords: if I have lived honourably among
you, if I have never given plain speech to any, avenge my wrongs. This
is my motion": then he read out his amendment, which he had
committed to writing: "Inasmuch as the blessed Claudius murdered his
father-in-law Appius Silanus, his two sons-in-law, Pompeius Magnus
and L. Silanus, Crassus Frugi his daughter's father-in-law, as like him
as two eggs in a basket, Scribonia his daughter's mother-in-law, his
wife Messalina, and others too numerous to mention; I propose that
strong measures be taken against him, that he be allowed no delay of
process, that immediate sentence of banishment be passed on him, that
he be deported from heaven within thirty days, and from Olympus
within thirty hours."

This motion was passed without further debate. Not a moment was lost:
Mercury screwed his neck and haled him to the lower regions, to that
bourne "from which they say no traveller returns." [Footnote: Catullus
iii, 12.] As they passed downwards along the Sacred Way, Mercury
asked what was that great concourse of men? could it be Claudius'
funeral? It was certainly a most gorgeous spectacle, got up regardless
of expense, clear it was that a god was being borne to the grave:
tootling of flutes, roaring of horns, an immense brass band of all sorts,
such a din that even Claudius could hear it. Joy and rejoicing on every
side, the Roman people walking about like free men. Agatho and a few
pettifoggers were weeping for grief, and for once in a way they meant it.
The Barristers were crawling out of their dark corners, pale and thin,
with hardly a breath in their bodies, as though just coming to life again.
One of them when he saw the pettifoggers putting their heads together,
and lamenting their sad lot, up comes he and says: "Did not I tell you
the Saturnalia could not last for ever?"
When Claudius saw his own funeral train, he understood that he was
dead. For they were chanting his dirge in anapaests, with much
mopping and mouthing:
"Pour forth your laments, your sorrow declare,
Let the sounds of grief
rise high in the air:
For he that is dead had a wit most keen,
Was
bravest of all that on earth have been.
Racehorses are nothing to his
swift feet:
Rebellious Parthians he did defeat;
Swift after the
Persians his light shafts go:
For he well knew how to fit arrow to bow,

Swiftly the striped barbarians fled:
With one little wound he shot
them dead.
And the Britons beyond in their unknown seas,

Blue-shielded Brigantians too, all these
He chained by the neck as the
Romans' slaves.
He spake, and the Ocean with trembling waves

Accepted the axe of the Roman law.
O weep for the man! This world
never saw
One quicker a troublesome suit to decide,
When only one
part of the case had been tried,
(He could do it indeed and not hear
either side).
Who'll now sit in judgment the whole year round?
Now
he that is judge of the shades underground
Once ruler of fivescore

cities in Crete,
Must yield to his better and take a back seat.
Mourn,
mourn, pettifoggers, ye venal crew,
And you, minor poets, woe, woe
is to you!
And you above all, who get rich quick
By the rattle of
dice and the three card trick."
Claudius was charmed to hear his own praises sung, 13 and would have
stayed longer to see the show. But the Talthybius [Footnote: Talthybius
was a herald, and _nuntius_ is obviously a gloss on this. He means
Mercury.] of the gods laid a hand on him, and led him across the
Campus Martius, first wrapping his head up close that no one might
know him, until betwixt Tiber and the Subway he went down to the
lower regions. [Footnote: By the Cloaca?] His freedman Narcissus had
gone down before him by a short cut, ready to welcome his master. Out
he comes to meet him, smooth and shining (he had just left the bath),
and says he: "What make the gods among mortals?" "Look alive," says
Mercury, "go and tell them we are coming." Away he flew, quicker
than tongue can tell. It is easy going by