Julia gave me little time before she insinuated herself into my every thought. "You have had your time for what you call your little project. I must say I am not that impressed. You seem to think that because one is not old one does not see and appreciate old. Let me share something with you about old"
"You are telling just me, or are Cartimandua and Tanaquil invited?" I could not imagine she did not want Tanaquil and Cartimandua. They have always been a part of our meetings.
"of course they can listen. I must do it story form just as you did. First person accounts of what one has done can get so boresome."
Thus began Julia's long winded story.
A heated argument with her father had left her unhinged. As so often she had done she went to see Maecenas. A long time friend/foe/ally of her father, the Emperor, Maecenas understood both Julia and her father better than anyone. She arrived at Maecenas' lavish house on the Esquiline Hill. She had not sent word of her coming. Such was their relationship. A slave ushered her into the small library. The room was cluttered with excessive furniture and memorabilia collected over the years. A bust of Bathyllus stood on the large desk in direct sight of the chair obviously from its wear and disarrayed cushions was used often. The wall paintings were political and military scenes. She was inspecting his collections when he entered. She was taken aback. His color was so grey it was nearly blue. His skin stretched over his bones seemingly devoid of flesh. Despite her efforts to control her reaction she gasped.
"Pretty sight, am I not? I have little time left." As he took her had in his his smile was reminiscent of other days. He lowered his head and kissed her hand. "Don't be alarmed. I'm not as uncomfortable as you. I don't have to look at me."
She tried to laugh but could not. He sat in the large heavily pillowed chair. "Sit, my dear. I have ordered wine. And don't wince. I saw that you should not get --sweet gunk I believe you once called it."
Julia managed a laugh. "Oh Maecenas, I have missed you."
"And I you. How long has it been since I rescued you from your father's wrath after our all night therapy session? I don't get out much anymore. The comfort of this place offers help for my infernal restlessness. But I do not, as you might think, sit here stolidly awaiting death which is near now."
Julia grimaced. "Now let's not start that. I know all about your astrologer. I also know that are wrong as often as they are right. How do you fill your time?"
"With my books and friends. Horace is ever faithful. He comes when he can be coaxed off his Sabine farm. And dear Bathyllus has been a rock." He sighed heavily as a slave entered with a flagon of wine and two cups. Waving the slave away Maecenas filled two cups and handed one to Julia. Taking the other for himself he sipped cautiously. "The gods preserve us, how can you like this vinegar? How do I occupy myself. Besides seeing friends, I read and go to the theater. And I have been working on my poetry. I shall never be as erudite as Horace not as witty as young Ovid. But I have fun." From a cedar box on the table next to his chair he took a sheet of parchment. "Here. You can see I do not sit morbidly waiting for my death. Here read this." He leaned back abd with a grimace sipped his wine. A sudden cough sent wine dribbling down his cheek. Julia looked at him with concern as he swabbed his chin. "Don't mind this. Just read. Read it aloud. I should like to hear it.
She read
Make me feeble of hand
Ma me feeble of foot and leg
Saddle me with a hump back
Knock out my loosened teeth
Life, as long it clings, is good
If I should sit, prop me up on my crutch
Her eyes met his. His smile had a touch of impiousness. "So Julia, you can see I am at peace with my fate. I owe much to Horace who urges me to live each day as it comes with no faith in what tomorrow holds. If you're here to comfort a dying man, I assure you there is no need".
* * *
Julia's story was over. She addressed us --Carti, Tanaquil and me. Especially me. "I suggest we stop this wallowing in our own problems and take a page out of Maecenas' book. Let us live today and let tomorrow take care of itself. And Jewellee, your Carlie is doing all right. She has been propped up."
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