do not mean this immodestly -of obvious interest to the world. I am the most famous living writer of Greek. As quaestor, I am official spokesman for my city.
"So why do people stop listening when I start to speak? And why, when the session is over and I try to talk to various senators and officials in the arcade, do they wander off when I am in midsentence, saying that they have appointments to keep, even though it is quite plain that they do not?"
"Because, my dear old friend, you have become—now you asked me to tell you the truth, remember that—a bore."
I was stunned. Of course as a professional teacher one tends to lecture rather than converse, but that is a habit most public men fall into. "But even so, I should have thought that what I was saying was of some interest…"
"It is. It always is."
"… rather than the way I say it, which may perhaps be overexplicit."
"You are too serious."
"No one can be too serious about what is important."
"Apparently the Antiochenes think otherwise."
We parted. I must say I have been thinking all day about what my colleague said. Have I aged so greatly? Have I lost my power to define and persuade? Am I too serious? I am suddenly tempted to write some sort of apologia for myself, to explain my unbecoming gravity. I must do something…. But scribbling these highly personal remarks on the back of Julian's memoirs is not the answer!
Julian Augustus
As I sat on the bench in the sun, revelling in warmth and anonymity, a dark man approached me. He gave me a close look. Then he said, "Macellum?"
At first I was annoyed at being recognized. But when I realized that this young man was the physician Oribasius, I was glad that he spoke to me. In no time at all we were talking as if we had known each other all our lives. Together we took the baths. In the circular hot room, as we scraped oil from one another, Oribasius told me that he had left the court."To practise privately?"
"No. Family affairs. My father died. And now I have to go home to Pergamon to settle the estate."
"How did you recognize me? It's been two years."
"I always remember faces, especially those of princes."
I motioned for him to lower his voice. Just opposite us two students were trying to overhear our conversation.
"Also," whispered Oribasius, "that awful beard of yours is a give-away."
"It's not very full yet," I said, tugging at it sadly.
"And everyone in Nicomedia knows that the most noble Julian is trying to grow a philosopher's beard."
"Well, at my age there's always hope."
After a plunge in the cold pool, we made our way to the hall of the tepidarium, where several hundred students were gathered, talking loudly, singing, occasionally wrestling, to the irritation of the bath attendants, who would then move swiftly among them, cracking heads with metal keys.
Oribasius promptly convinced me that I should come stay with him in Pergamon. "I've a big house and there's no one in it. You can also meet Aedesius…. "
Like everyone, I admired Aedesius. He was Pergamon's most famous philosopher, the teacher of Maximus and Priscus, and a friend of the late Iamblichos.
"You'll like Pergamon. Thousands of Sophists, arguing all day long. We even have a woman Sophist."
"A woman?"
"Well, perhaps she's a woman. There is a rumour she may be a goddess. You must ask her, since she started the rumour. Anyway, she gives lectures on philosophy, practises magic, predicts the future. You'll like her."
"But you don't?"
"But you will."
At that moment we were joined by the two young men from the hot room. One was tall and well built; his manner grave. The other was short and thin with a tight smile and quick black eyes. As they approached, my heart sank. I had been recognized. The short one introduced himself. "Gregory of Nazianzus, most noble Julian. And this is Basil. We are both from Cappadocia. We saw you the day the divine Augustus came to Macellum. We were in the crowd."
"Are you studying here?"
"No. We're on
"So why do people stop listening when I start to speak? And why, when the session is over and I try to talk to various senators and officials in the arcade, do they wander off when I am in midsentence, saying that they have appointments to keep, even though it is quite plain that they do not?"
"Because, my dear old friend, you have become—now you asked me to tell you the truth, remember that—a bore."
I was stunned. Of course as a professional teacher one tends to lecture rather than converse, but that is a habit most public men fall into. "But even so, I should have thought that what I was saying was of some interest…"
"It is. It always is."
"… rather than the way I say it, which may perhaps be overexplicit."
"You are too serious."
"No one can be too serious about what is important."
"Apparently the Antiochenes think otherwise."
We parted. I must say I have been thinking all day about what my colleague said. Have I aged so greatly? Have I lost my power to define and persuade? Am I too serious? I am suddenly tempted to write some sort of apologia for myself, to explain my unbecoming gravity. I must do something…. But scribbling these highly personal remarks on the back of Julian's memoirs is not the answer!
Julian Augustus
As I sat on the bench in the sun, revelling in warmth and anonymity, a dark man approached me. He gave me a close look. Then he said, "Macellum?"
At first I was annoyed at being recognized. But when I realized that this young man was the physician Oribasius, I was glad that he spoke to me. In no time at all we were talking as if we had known each other all our lives. Together we took the baths. In the circular hot room, as we scraped oil from one another, Oribasius told me that he had left the court."To practise privately?"
"No. Family affairs. My father died. And now I have to go home to Pergamon to settle the estate."
"How did you recognize me? It's been two years."
"I always remember faces, especially those of princes."
I motioned for him to lower his voice. Just opposite us two students were trying to overhear our conversation.
"Also," whispered Oribasius, "that awful beard of yours is a give-away."
"It's not very full yet," I said, tugging at it sadly.
"And everyone in Nicomedia knows that the most noble Julian is trying to grow a philosopher's beard."
"Well, at my age there's always hope."
After a plunge in the cold pool, we made our way to the hall of the tepidarium, where several hundred students were gathered, talking loudly, singing, occasionally wrestling, to the irritation of the bath attendants, who would then move swiftly among them, cracking heads with metal keys.
Oribasius promptly convinced me that I should come stay with him in Pergamon. "I've a big house and there's no one in it. You can also meet Aedesius…. "
Like everyone, I admired Aedesius. He was Pergamon's most famous philosopher, the teacher of Maximus and Priscus, and a friend of the late Iamblichos.
"You'll like Pergamon. Thousands of Sophists, arguing all day long. We even have a woman Sophist."
"A woman?"
"Well, perhaps she's a woman. There is a rumour she may be a goddess. You must ask her, since she started the rumour. Anyway, she gives lectures on philosophy, practises magic, predicts the future. You'll like her."
"But you don't?"
"But you will."
At that moment we were joined by the two young men from the hot room. One was tall and well built; his manner grave. The other was short and thin with a tight smile and quick black eyes. As they approached, my heart sank. I had been recognized. The short one introduced himself. "Gregory of Nazianzus, most noble Julian. And this is Basil. We are both from Cappadocia. We saw you the day the divine Augustus came to Macellum. We were in the crowd."
"Are you studying here?"
"No. We're on
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