outcome was, it could all be blamed upon the gods.
However, I could not refuse outright to help, and once Marcus had decided on a course it was extremely difficult to change his mind. In vain I pleaded that I was happy where I was, and that I would make a swifter recovery in my own domain, surrounded by my loving wife and slaves.
Marcus dismissed my protestations with a lofty wave. His house was warmer, it was free of draughts and smoke, the food was plentiful and better quality, and the medicus would be at hand to keep an eye on me. As to my household, they could come as well, if I so desired, although any of his servants would be at my beck and call. Indeed, since I was obviously still feeling delicate, he would order his cook to make special food for me and provide a slave to taste it before I ate, to make sure that I didn’t swallow the seeds of any more disease.
‘In fact, old friend,’ he finished cheerfully, ‘you could come with us now. I have a carriage standing at the door. Philades can walk back to the house.’
At this point, however, the doctor intervened. ‘Your pardon, Excellence. The patient is not well enough for that,’ he said, and I wondered again at the privilege of contradiction his job afforded him. ‘It is possible that he could be transferred this afternoon, but proper preparations must be made. The bedding must be put into the sun to air, and the room warmed up before he comes – an extra brazier in addition to the under-floor hypocaust. And jolting in a carriage is not a good idea. He would be better on a covered litter, where he can be transported lying down, and wrapped in blankets to prevent a chill. After the sun has passed its height, perhaps, to take advantage of what warmth there is. I will accompany him, of course, and give him a potion to help him sleep through the ordeal. Under those conditions, I would be prepared to countenance the move – though necessarily there is a risk. Although I do not think he is infectious now.’
Marcus is not accustomed to taking orders, and I expected an outburst at this high-handed tone, but my patron merely nodded meekly. ‘As you say.’
Of course, Marcus would hardly be the first to forgive a gifted doctor for failures of respect. There is the famous story about Thersis, a young medicus in Rome, who – having bought himself too many expensive hand-copied books – was forced to sell himself into slavery to pay his debts. He too gave orders to his owners all the time, but he was so skilled at healing that they put up with it: so much so that when he later tried to buy his freedom back, they set such a high value on him that he could not afford the price and he ended as a runaway with a bounty on his head. All this was more than twenty years ago, but the attitude of doctors had obviously not changed.
Nevertheless, I hadn’t expected my patron to show such tolerance. He was almost deferential as he said, ‘Everything shall be arranged exactly as the doctor recommends. So, Libertus, that is settled then.’
I tried to protest that Gwellia must be consulted before decisions could be made, but Junio had already gone to waken her. She came in looking tousled and rather bleary-eyed but she was quite alert, and to my dismay – once she had heard the old physician’s view – decided that this was a good idea. In fact I think that she was secretly delighted by the whole prospect.
With very little further reference to me, it was agreed that a litter would be sent and I would be transported to the villa sometime after noon. The medicus would come back to accompany me, with Junio, and Gwellia would follow a little later on. Cilla and Kurso would stay here and mind the house, but would be available if called upon.
‘It’s all very fine for you,’ I muttered to my wife, after our distinguished visitors had gone. ‘Marcus will expect me to help him catch these men, and I think he’s made the task impossible. Everything that he has done so far
However, I could not refuse outright to help, and once Marcus had decided on a course it was extremely difficult to change his mind. In vain I pleaded that I was happy where I was, and that I would make a swifter recovery in my own domain, surrounded by my loving wife and slaves.
Marcus dismissed my protestations with a lofty wave. His house was warmer, it was free of draughts and smoke, the food was plentiful and better quality, and the medicus would be at hand to keep an eye on me. As to my household, they could come as well, if I so desired, although any of his servants would be at my beck and call. Indeed, since I was obviously still feeling delicate, he would order his cook to make special food for me and provide a slave to taste it before I ate, to make sure that I didn’t swallow the seeds of any more disease.
‘In fact, old friend,’ he finished cheerfully, ‘you could come with us now. I have a carriage standing at the door. Philades can walk back to the house.’
At this point, however, the doctor intervened. ‘Your pardon, Excellence. The patient is not well enough for that,’ he said, and I wondered again at the privilege of contradiction his job afforded him. ‘It is possible that he could be transferred this afternoon, but proper preparations must be made. The bedding must be put into the sun to air, and the room warmed up before he comes – an extra brazier in addition to the under-floor hypocaust. And jolting in a carriage is not a good idea. He would be better on a covered litter, where he can be transported lying down, and wrapped in blankets to prevent a chill. After the sun has passed its height, perhaps, to take advantage of what warmth there is. I will accompany him, of course, and give him a potion to help him sleep through the ordeal. Under those conditions, I would be prepared to countenance the move – though necessarily there is a risk. Although I do not think he is infectious now.’
Marcus is not accustomed to taking orders, and I expected an outburst at this high-handed tone, but my patron merely nodded meekly. ‘As you say.’
Of course, Marcus would hardly be the first to forgive a gifted doctor for failures of respect. There is the famous story about Thersis, a young medicus in Rome, who – having bought himself too many expensive hand-copied books – was forced to sell himself into slavery to pay his debts. He too gave orders to his owners all the time, but he was so skilled at healing that they put up with it: so much so that when he later tried to buy his freedom back, they set such a high value on him that he could not afford the price and he ended as a runaway with a bounty on his head. All this was more than twenty years ago, but the attitude of doctors had obviously not changed.
Nevertheless, I hadn’t expected my patron to show such tolerance. He was almost deferential as he said, ‘Everything shall be arranged exactly as the doctor recommends. So, Libertus, that is settled then.’
I tried to protest that Gwellia must be consulted before decisions could be made, but Junio had already gone to waken her. She came in looking tousled and rather bleary-eyed but she was quite alert, and to my dismay – once she had heard the old physician’s view – decided that this was a good idea. In fact I think that she was secretly delighted by the whole prospect.
With very little further reference to me, it was agreed that a litter would be sent and I would be transported to the villa sometime after noon. The medicus would come back to accompany me, with Junio, and Gwellia would follow a little later on. Cilla and Kurso would stay here and mind the house, but would be available if called upon.
‘It’s all very fine for you,’ I muttered to my wife, after our distinguished visitors had gone. ‘Marcus will expect me to help him catch these men, and I think he’s made the task impossible. Everything that he has done so far
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