"Somtow Sucharitkul - Aquila" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sucharitkul Somtom)

AQUILA IN THE NEW WORLD


Somtow Sucharitkul




CHAPTER I




ONCE, WHEN I WAS VERY YOUNG, FATHER TOOK
ME in the motor-car to the Via Appia, to see a man being
crucified. It was some slave, some minor offense that I don't
recall; but it was the first time I had ever seen such a thing. All
the way there—and the way from our estate is olive-tree country,
beautiful in the height of summer—Father was lecturing me
about the good old-fashioned values. It was as much for the
benefit of Nikias my tutor as for myself.
As we approached the Via Appia we would run across
peasants or slaves; I remember that their awe at seeing my
father's gilded motor-car, with its steam chamber stoked by
uniformed slaves, with its miniature Ionian columns supporting a
canopy of Indish silk, was sometimes comical, sometimes
touching. Only someone of at least the rank of tribune might
possess such a vehicle— although they are much slower than
horses—for their secret parts are manufactured, somewhere deep
in the heart of the Temple of Capitoline Jove, by tongueless and
footless slaves who can reveal little of the mysterious rites
involved. Truly the Emperor Nero must favor my father, who had
never plotted against him and always sent him curious and witty
gifts, such as that funny glowing shroud from Asia Minor that had
been used to wrap up the living corn-god, sacrificed each year
only to be found reborn in some unfortunate young man.
 It was stifling. My toga praextexta was drenched with sweat.
When we got to the crucifixion, it was late in the day and hard to
get a good view; and even my father was weary of lecturing me,
and did so only intermittently as Briseis the pretty little cupbearer
filled and refilled our goblets with snow-chilled Falernian. I was
young then, as I have said, and remember little of the poor
wretch's agonies; he put on a good show at first, shrieking
hideously as the ropes were tightened and the cross raised, but
presently he sank into lethargy, his eyes (which I only saw by
virtue of being perched on the motor-car's driver's seat) glazed
over, and flies stormed all over him. We gorged ourselves on
melons and on a concoction of peacocks' brains and honey.
As we started home, my father, stimulated by the sight of
bloodshed, harangued me all over again, standing proudly over