One fourth1 of the day being now passed, we came to Vesta's temple; and, as good luck would have it, he was obliged to appear to his recognizance; which unless he did, he must have lost his cause.
"If you love me," said he, "step in here a little."
"May I die! if I be either able to stand it out,2 or have any knowledge of the civil laws: and besides, I am in a hurry, you know whither."
"I am in doubt what I shall do," said he; "whether desert you or my cause."
"Me, I beg of you."
"I will not do it," said he; and began to take the lead of me. I (as it is difficult to contend with one's master) follow him.
"How stands it with Maecenas and you?" Thus he begins his prate again. "He is one of few intimates,3 and of a very wise way of thinking. No man ever made use of opportunity with more cleverness. You should have a powerful assistant,4 who could play an underpart, if you were disposed to recommend this man; may I perish, if you should not supplant all the rest!"
"We do not live there in the manner you imagine; there is not a house that is freer or more remote from evils of this nature. It is never of any disservice to me, that any particular person is wealthier or a better scholar than I am: every individual has his proper place."
"You tell me a marvelous thing, scarcely credible."
"But it is even so."
"You the more inflame my desires to be near his person."
"You need only be inclined to it: such is your merit, you will accomplish it: and he is capable of being won;5 and on that account the first access to him he makes difficult."
"I will not be wanting to myself; I will corrupt his servants with presents; if I am excluded to-day, I will not desist; I will seek opportunities; I will meet him in the public streets; I will wait upon him home. Life allows nothing to mortals without great labor."
While he was running on at this rate, lo! Fuscus Aristius comes up, a dear friend of mine, and one who knows the fellow well. We make a stop.
"Whence come you? whither are you going?" he asks and answers. I began to twitch him [by the elbow], and to take hold of his arms [that were affectedly] passive, nodding and distorting my eyes, that he might rescue me. Cruelly arch he laughs, and pretends not to take the hint: anger galled my liver.
"Certainly," [said I, "Fuscus,] you said that you wanted to communicate something to me in private."
"I remember it very well; but will tell it you at a better opportunity: to-day is the thirtieth sabbath.6 Would you affront the circumcised Jews?"
I reply, "I have no scruple [on that account]."
"But I have: I am something weaker, one of the multitude. You must forgive me: I will speak with you on another occasion." And has this sun arisen so disastrous upon me! The wicked rogue runs away, and leaves me under the knife.
But by luck his adversary met him: and, "Whither are you going, you infamous fellow?" roars he with a loud voice: and, "Do you witness the arrest?"7
I assent.8 He hurries him into court: there is a great clamor on both sides, a mob from all parts. Thus Apollo preserved me.9