Letters of Pliny
that was speaking? He was told, Licinus. Upon which, he broke off the
case, exclaiming, 'Eloquence is no more!'" The truth is it had only
begun to decline then, when in Afer's opinion it no longer existed --
whereas now it is almost extinct. I am ashamed to tell you of the
mincing and affected pronunciation of the speakers, and of the shrill-
voiced applause with which their effusions are received; nothing seems
wanting to complete this sing-song performance except claps, or rather
cymbals and tambourines. Howlings indeed (for I can call such applause,
which would be indecent even in the theatre, by no other name) abound in
plenty. Up to this time the interest of my friends and the consideration
of my early time of life have kept me in this court, as I am afraid they
might think I was doing it to shirk work rather than to avoid these
indecencies, were I to leave it just yet: however, I go there less
frequently than I did, and am thus effecting a gradual retreat.
Farewell.
XXIII -- To GALLUS
You are surprised that I am so fond of my Laurentine, or (if you prefer
the name) my Laurens: but you will cease to wonder when I acquaint you
with the beauty of the villa, the advantages of its situation, and the
extensive view of the sea-coast. It is only seventeen miles from Rome:
so that when I have finished my business in town, I can pass my evenings
here after a good satisfactory day's work. There are two different roads
to it: if you go by that of Laurentum, you must turn off at the
fourteenth mile-stone; if by Astia, at the eleventh. Both of them are
sandy in places, which makes it a little heavier and longer by carriage,
but short and easy on horseback. The landscape affords plenty of
variety, the view in some places being closed in by woods, in others
extending over broad meadows, where numerous flocks of sheep and herds
of cattle, which the severity of the winter has driven from the
mountains, fatten in the spring warmth, and on the rich pasturage. My
villa is of a convenient size without being expensive to keep up. The
courtyard in front is plain, but not mean, through which you enter
porticoes shaped into the form of the letter D, enclosing a small but
cheerful area between. These make a capital retreat for bad weather, not
only as they are shut in with windows, but particularly as they are
sheltered by a projection of the roof. From the middle of these
porticoes you pass into a bright pleasant inner court, and out of that
into a handsome hall running out towards the sea-shore; so that when
there is a south-west breeze, it is gently washed with the waves, which
spend themselves at its base. On every side of this hall there are
either folding-doors or windows equally large, by which means you have a
view from the front and the two sides of three different seas, as it
were: from the back you see the middle court, the portico, and the area;
and from another point you look through the portico into the courtyard,
and out upon the woods and distant mountains beyond. On the left hand of
this hall, a little farther from the sea, lies a large drawing-room, and
beyond that, a second of a smaller size, which has one window to the
rising and another to the setting sun: this as well has a view of the
sea, but more distant and agreeable. The angle formed by the projection
of the dining-room with this drawing-room retains and intensifies the
warmth of the sun, and this forms our winter quarters and family
gymnasium, which is sheltered from all the winds except those which
bring on clouds, but the clear sky comes out again before the warmth has
gone out of the place. Adjoining this angle is a room forming the
segment of a circle, the windows of which are so arranged as to get the
sun all through the day: in the walls are contrived a sort of cases,
containing a collection of authors who can never be read too often. Next
to this is a bed-room, connected with it by a raised passage furnished
with pipes, which supply, at a wholesome temperature, and distribute to
all parts of this room, the heat they receive. The rest of this side of
the house is appropriated to the use of my slaves and freedmen; but most
of the rooms in it are respectable enough to put my guests into. In the
opposite wing is a most elegant, tastefully fitted up bed-room; next to
which lies another, which you may call either a large bed-room or a
modified dining-room; it is very warm and light, not only from the
direct rays of the sun, but by their reflection from the sea. Beyond
this is a bed-room with an ante-room, the height of which renders it
cool in summer, its thick walls warm in winter, for it is sheltered,
every way from the winds. To this apartment another anteroom is joined
by one common wall. From thence you enter into the wide and spacious
cooling-room belonging to the bath, from the opposite walls of which two
curved basins are thrown out, so to speak; which are more than large
enough if you consider that the sea is close at hand. Adjacent to this
is the anointing-room, then the sweating-room, and beyond that the bath-
heating room: adjoining are two other little bath-rooms, elegantly
rather than sumptuously fitted up: annexed to them is a warm bath of
wonderful construction, in which one can swim and take a view of the sea
at the same time. Not far from this stands the tennis-court, which lies
open to the warmth of the afternoon sun. From thence you go up a sort of
turret which has two rooms below, with the same number above, besides a
dining-room commanding a very extensive look-out on to the sea, the
coast, and the beautiful villas scattered along the shore line. At the
other end is a second turret, containing a room that gets the rising and
setting sun. Behind this is a large store-room and granary, and
underneath, a spacious dining-room, where only the murmur and break of
the sea can be heard, even in a storm: it looks out upon the garden, and
the gestatio,[40] running round the garden. The gestatio is bordered
round with box, and, where that is decayed, with rosemary: for the box,
wherever sheltered by the buildings, grows plentifully, but where it
lies open and exposed to the weather and spray from the sea, though at
some distance from the latter, it quite withers up. Next the gestatio,
and running along inside it, is a shady vine plantation, the path of
which is so soft and easy to the tread that you may walk bare-foot upon
it. The garden is chiefly planted with fig and mulberry trees, to which
this soil is as favourable as it is averse from all others. Here is a
dining-room, which, though it stands away from the sea enjoys the garden
view which is just as pleasant: two apartments run round the back part
of it, the windows of which look out upon the entrance of the villa, and
into a fine kitchen-garden. From here extends an enclosed portico which,
from its great length, you might take for a public one. It has a range
of windows on either side, but more on the side facing the sea, and
fewer on the garden side, and these, single windows and alternate with
the opposite rows. In calm, clear, weather these are all thrown open;
but if it blows, those on the weather side are closed, whilst those away
from the wind can remain open without any inconvenience. Before this
enclosed portico lies a terrace fragrant with the scent of violets, and
warmed by the reflection of the sun from the portico, which, while it
retains the rays, keeps away the north-east wind; and it is as warm on
this side as it is cool on the side opposite: in the same way it is a
protection against the wind from the south-west; and thus, in short, by
means of its several sides, breaks the force of the winds, from whatever
quarter they may blow. These are some of its winter advantages, they are
still more appreciable in the summer time; for at that season it throws
a shade upon the terrace during the whole of the forenoon, and upon the
adjoining portion of the gestatio and garden in the afternoon, casting a
greater or less shade on this side or on that as the day increases or
decreases. But the portico itself is coolest just at the time when the
sun is at its hottest, that is, when the rays fall directly upon the
roof. Also, by opening the windows you let in the western breezes in a
free current, which prevents the place getting oppressive with close and
stagnant air. At the upper end of the terrace and portico stands a
detached garden building, which I call my favourite; my favourite
indeed, as I put it up myself. It contains a very warm winter-room, one
side of which looks down upon the terrace, while the other has a view of
the sea, and both lie exposed to the sun. The bed-room opens on to the
covered portico by means of folding-doors, while its window looks out
upon the sea. On that side next the sea, and facing the middle wall, is
formed a very elegant little recess, which, by means of transparent[41]
windows, and a curtain drawn to or aside, can be made part of the
adjoining room, or separated from it. It contains a couch and two
chairs: as you lie upon this couch, from where your feet are you get a
peep of the sea; looking behind you see the neighbouring villas, and
from the head you have a view of the woods: these three views may be
seen either separately, from so many different windows, or blended
together in one. Adjoining this is a bed-room, which neither the
servants' voices, the murmuring of the sea, the glare of lightning, nor
daylight itself can penetrate, unless you open the windows. This
profound tranquillity and seclusion are occasioned by a passage
separating the wall of this room from that of the garden, and thus, by
means of this intervening space, every noise is drowned. Annexed to this
is a tiny stove-room, which, by opening or shutting a little aperture,
lets out or retains the heat from underneath, according as you require.
Beyond this lie a bed-room and ante-room, which enjoy the sun, though
obliquely indeed, from the time it rises, till the afternoon. When I
retire to this garden summer-house, I fancy myself a hundred miles away
from my villa, and take especial pleasure in it at the feast of the
Saturnalia,[42] when, by the licence of that festive season, every other
part of my house resounds with my servants' mirth: thus I neither
interrupt their amusement nor they my studies. Amongst the pleasures and
conveniences of this situation, there is one drawback, and that is, the
want of running water; but then there are wells about the place, or
rather springs, for they lie close to the surface. And, altogether, the
quality of this coast is remarkable; for dig where you may, you meet,
upon the first turning up of the ground, with a spring of water, quite
pure, not in the least salt, although so near the sea. The neighbouring
woods supply us with all the fuel we require, the other necessaries
Ostia furnishes. Indeed, to a moderate man, even the village (between
which and my house there is only one villa) would supply all ordinary
requirements. It has three public baths, which are a great convenience
if it happen that friends come in unexpectedly, or make too short a stay
to allow time in preparing my own. The whole coast is very pleasantly
sprinkled with villas either in rows or detached, which whether looking
at them from the sea or the shore, present the appearance of so many
different cities. The strand is, sometimes, after a long calm, perfectly
smooth, though, in general, through the storms driving the waves upon
it, it is rough and uneven. I cannot boast that our sea is plentiful in
choice fish; however, it supplies us with capital soles and prawns; but
as to other kinds of provisions, my villa aspires to excel even inland
countries, particularly in milk: for the cattle come up there from the