I, Claudius - Robert Graves [190]
The gold statue for his temple was another expense. He paid for it by publishing an edict that he would receive New-Year's gifts at the main gate of the Palace. When the day came he sent parties of Guards out to herd the City crowds up the Palatine Hill at the sword-point and make them shed every coin they had on them into great tubs put out for the purpose. They were warned that if they tried to dodge the Guards or hold back a single farthing of money they would be liable to instant death. By evening two thousand huge tubs had been filled.
It was about this time that he said to Ganymede and Agrippinilla and Lesbia: "You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, you idle drones. What do you do for your living?
You're mere parasites. Are you aware that every man and woman in Rome works hard to support me? Every wretched baggage-porter gladly pays me one-eighth of his wage, and every poor prostitute the same."
Agrippinilla said: "Well, brother, you have stripped us of practically all our money on one pretext or another.
Isn't that enough?"
"Enough? Indeed it isn't. Money inherited is not the same as money honestly earned. I'm going to make you girls and boys work."
So he advertised in the Senate, by distributing leaflets, that on such and such a night a most exclusive and exquisite brothel would be opened at the Palace, with entertainment to suit all tastes provided by persons of the most illustrious birth. Admission, only one thousand gold pieces. Drinks free. Agrippinilla and Lesbia, I am sorry to say, did not protest very strongly against Caligula's disgraceful proposal, and indeed thought that it would be great fun. But they insisted that they should have the right of choosing their own customers and that Caligula should not take too high a commission on the money earned. Much to my disgust I was dragged into this business, by being dressed up as the comic porter. Caligula, wearing a mask and disguising his voice, was the bawd-master, and played all the usual bawd-master tricks for cheating his guests of their pleasure and their money. When they protested, I was called upon to act as chucker-out. I am strong enough in the arms, stronger than most men, I may say, though my legs are very little use to me; so I caused a great deal of amusement by my clumsy hobbling and by the unexpectedly heavy drubbing I gave the guests when I managed to get hold of them.
Caligula declaimed in a theatrical voice, the lines from Homer: ''Vulcan with awkward grace his office plies And unextinguished laughter shakes the skies.''
This was the passage in the First Book of the Iliad where the lame God goes hobbling about Olympus and the other Gods all laugh at him. I was lying on the floor pounding Lesbia's husband with my fists—it wasn't often that I got such a chance of paying back old scores—and raising myself up I said: ''Then from his anvil the lame craftsman rose. Wide, with distorted legs, oblique, he goes'', and staggered over to the refreshment table. Caligula was delighted and quoted another couple of lines which occur just before the "unextinguished laughter" passage: ''If you submit, the Thunderer stands appeased, The Gracious God is willing to be pleased.''
This was how he came to call me Vulcan, a title that I was glad to win, because it gave me a certain protection against his caprices.
Caligula then quietly left us, removed his disguise and reappeared as himself, coming in from the Palace courtyard by the door where he had posted me. He pretended to be utterly surprised and shocked at what was going oa and stood declaiming Homer again—Ulysses' shame and anger at the behaviour of the palace-women: As thus pavilioned in the porch he lay, Scenes of lewd loves his wakeful eyes survey; Whilst to nocturnal joys impure repair With wanton glee, the prostituted fair.
His heart with rage this new dishonour stung, Wavering his thought in dubious balance hung.
Or, instant should he quench the guilty Same With their own blood, and intercept the shame; Or to their lust indulge a last embrace, And let the peers consummate the disgrace; Round his swoln heart the murmurous fury rolls; As o'er her young the mother-mastiff growls, And bays the stranger groom: so wrath compress'd Recoiling, mutter'd thunder in his breast.