(Domus of Nigerinus, Subura Quarter, Rome, sunset of the same day)

In many poorer Roman homes, bedtime begins with the setting of the sun. Night illumination consists mainly of candles and oil-lamps and their feeble wavering flames and greasy smoky vapours can injure the eyes so much that ocular complaints can become commonplace if sleep is not commensurate with the hours of darkness.

The young nullified freedman, Nigerinus, therefore snuffed out the candles and lamps on this New Year’s Eve on the setting of the sun in order to go to bed with the woman with whom he lived. He might not be of much use to her sexually, apart from occasionally thoughtfully entertaining her with his fingers and lips, but his strong black body offered her warmth against the pervading winter chill.

Nigerinus also knew that it was best to sleep whilst he could. He believed that the woman’s currently sleeping baby son, Aulus, whom he too protectively loved dearly, would undoubtedly awake sometime in the night, crying for attention.

In fact, Nigerinus’ assumption was actually to be proved incorrect on this overnight occasion. Aulus unusually afforded his mother and effectual father rest until the next dawn, which heralded the Kalends of Ianuarius and the arrival of the New Year.

(Domus of Petronius, Quirinal Hill, Rome, same time)

 'Let us together closely lie and kiss.
There is no labour, no shame in this.
This has pleased, does please, and long will please; never
Can this decay but is beginning ever.'

- Petronius

In residences richer than Nigerinus could afford, where much better lighting can be provided, no nocturnal restrictions are necessary. Petronius’ domus fell into this category.

One of Petronius’ many night-time dinner-parties, this one celebrating the imminent arrival of the New Year, was therefore again proceeding very well, with much merriment and carousal, with much homosexual cavorting. Such enjoyment was accompanied, dangerously for the later condition of the heads of host and guests, by very heavy consumption of strong wine, as the late winter dawn, which would actually herald the advent of DCCCVI A.V.C., was awaited.

The first hour of the new Roman day is always the one after dawn and the length of hours is not standardised but varies according to the time of year. The 24 hours concerned are split into 12 of daylight and 12 of night, with in summer each hour of light averaging 75 minutes whilst in winter they are 30 minutes shorter. Meanwhile, midday is always the 6^th hour, whilst the 12^th is the one immediately prior to sunset.

Consequently, the wait for the dawn of the mid-winter Kalends of Ianuarius, which heralds the New Year, is much longer than if the event occurred at the height of summer [in modern terms about 07.30 compared with 04.30]. As a result, much wine is often consumed at a party like that of Petronius.

Amongst those who would be suffering later as a result of their attendance would be some of Petronius’ usual principal guests. Apollinus lay on a couch with Rubellius Plautius, as did Helius and Doryphorus, Persius and Quintilianus and Nerva and Silius Italicus.

Notable amongst the absentees from the usual guest-list were naturally Gaius and me and Axenius and Pliny. So too were Cornutus and Servius.

Cornutus and Servius had their hands full with trying to comfort Anacletus, Axenia and Arius after telling Axenius’ twin siblings and adopted son about Pliny’s letter describing the disturbing events in Germania. The sense of worry and despair had also affected the currently resident Achilleus and Tyanus, who additionally began to fear for the welfare of their own absent adopted father, my beloved Gaius.

In the circumstances, Petronius had actually contemplated cancelling his New Year’s Eve party but Cornutus had insisted that he should proceed with the event. "There’s no need to stop enjoying life," he suggested, "because Axenius and now Pliny are missing, not least because the pair of them would hate such a reaction."

"Anyway," Cornutus added, "perhaps you can ask in your New Year libations to the gods for the eventual emergence unharmed of Axenius and Pliny from the forests of Germania." "You never know," he added in sombre jest, "if you offer enough wine, the deities might even hear you!"

Consequently, Petronius and his guests, as they awaited the Kalends of Ianuarius and the New Year, offered many libations to the gods, which naturally entailed much simultaneous personal consumption of wine.

(Domus of Petronius, Quirinal Hill, Rome, next morning, Dies Lunae, Kal. Ian. DCCCVI A.V.C. [Monday, 1^st January 53 AD])

A reluctant Petronius was awoken by the smiling Giton greeting nicely him with the words "Feliz ano novo!" The ‘elegentiae arbiter’, again looking anything but elegant, slowly opened his eyes to see his youngest slave standing at his bedside with two silver goblets on a tray of the same precious metal.

"Happy New Year to you too!" Petronius managed to utter in reply to Giton’s greeting. The boy then explained the goblets on the tray by suggesting "Drink this, master. It’s your usual hangover cure and I’ve brought one for Encolpius as well."

"As is customary," Petronius commented in a whisper, so as not to distress his terrible headache too much, "you’re very thoughtful!" The elegentiae arbiter then nudged Encolpius, who was sleeping next to him in bed, in order to announce the arrival of the alleged hangover cure to his other beautiful eunuch.

"Oh no, I couldn’t drink anything," the suddenly awakened and similarly suffering Encolpius groaned on being offered the supposed remedy. "I’m not letting you escape so lightly," the still grinning Giton replied to the older eunuch, "as we’ve duties to perform. Don’t forget that our master is visiting someone soon, which is why I’ve aroused you both at this relatively early hour!"

"Can’t you just pretend that I’m dead instead?" Encolpius enquired in desperation. "I suppose you want me to say something nice about you in your epigraph," Giton quipped in retort, causing his master to giggle at the boy’s humour. Petronius also decided sometime to include the jest in one of his satires.

"Why aren’t you also suffering from a hangover?" Encolpius jealously asked, as he begrudgingly sat up besides his master to consume with shared reluctance the awful-tasting mixture, prepared with sadistic relish by the cook. "Because I wasn’t greedy with undiluted wine," replied Giton.

Petronius then interrupted with an alternative answer. "Because he was too busy," the elegentiae arbiter suggested, "cavorting with that flute-girl I again hired to help entertain us at last night’s New Year’s Eve celebration!"

Giton’s beautiful 14 year-old face immediately blushed in embarrassment. Nevertheless, the boy embarked upon a determined attempt to defend himself.

"I was not cavorting with her," Giton declared, "but accompanying her musically with my cithara and otherwise keeping her company." "Then, why has the side of my bed, where you usually sleep, not been disturbed overnight?" Petronius asked with amused accusation.

"Because," Giton answered, "by the time I’d escorted the girl home after the party and returned, you two were flat out and snoring loudly in bed, whilst smelling as if you’d consumed all of the Falernian wine in Rome." He then added, whilst a sweet mischievous grin returned to his face, "I decided that it would be preferable for a nice sober boy like me to sleep in a spare slave bunk. Anyway, eunuchs can’t cavort with girls!"

"They can and do," Petronius retorted, with sudden seriousness displayed on his face, "and so can you, and I guarantee that you will if you ever want!"

(Imperial palace, Palatine Hill, Rome, same time)

The deeply distraught and copiously tearful Britannicus was inconsolable, despite Apollinus’ best efforts to calm the boy, who had just received a message that Titus had been suddenly and unexpectedly sent to live in Reate. "Life isn’t worth living without at least one friend," the prince kept repeating in response to his personal slave’s attempts to comfort him.

Apollinus was simultaneously tempted to suggest that Britannicus still had one true friend left, namely himself. However, he was dissuaded by three considerations.

First was the notion that such a comment would be impertinent for a slave to make to a prince. Second, Britannicus was obviously referring to child friends of his own age not a young man nine years older. Third, given palace politics, Apollinus did not know how long he would be allowed to serve the boy before being reassigned at the insistence of Agrippina, whom he believed was somehow behind this latest cruel move to isolate her stepson. Such separation might be even harder for the 11 year-old to endure if the pair became overly close.

Finding his efforts to console Britannicus fruitless, Apollinus eventually gave up to allow the princely boy, who was sitting on his knee, to exhaust his tears instead, whilst the slave contemplated what else to do.

(Domus of Aulus Plautius, Palatine Hill, Rome, shortly afterwards)

 ‘For a good cause, wrongdoing is virtuous.’

Visitors of low rank seeking to meet patricians and other rich and important men in their homes for the first time, usually to seek favours, often require formal letters of introduction from others known to the notable personage in order to overcome the initial hurdle towards achieving their objective. This obstacle is, of course, the residence’s slave door porter, if he can ever be found. However, even when equipped with such correspondence, only a substantial tip given to the ianitor usually then leads to entrance into the atrium to wait, with other clients and petitioners, to see the grandee.

Aulus Plautius’ ianitor was no exception. A slave without a letter or money, even one sent with a supposedly urgent verbal message from the Imperial palace, therefore stood no chance of seeing the grandee. He could at best be shown in to meet the man’s secretary or steward if and when they condescended to make themselves available.

Apollinus had no time for such nonsense, which was why to chose daringly to climb over a high wall at the side of Aulus Plautius’ opulent residence on the Palatine Hill, which was not far from the Imperial palace. He had to jump down to the other side from the tall apex and he landed heavily on some paving in a large and currently quiet luxuriant open colonnaded garden, or ‘peristylum’, with central pool, or ‘impluvium’, and fountain, or ‘fons’.

Even in winter, the garden was peacefully pleasant and colourful, at least until Apollinus arrived. The loud noise of his landing disturbed the tranquillity and was heard by one of the young household slaves, who stepped out of a nearby wooden building to discover the source of the disturbance. The boy then shouted in alarm to someone else that there was an intruder in the house.

(Imperial palace, Palatine Hill, Rome, same time)

(‘ For those in misery perhaps better things will follow.’)

- Virgil

Helius appreciated that Nero, for whom he and Doryphorus formed the prince’s secretariat, would not like him taking time off from his duties, especially to perform instead his current task. However, the exceptionally young freedman had been compelled to do so for two reasons.

First, having been summoned in desperation by Apollinus, Helius felt obliged to help his older brother. Second, the 17 year-old liked Britannicus and therefore looking after the deeply disconsolate and still quietly sobbing boy, whilst his sibling disappeared on some urgent errand, was a task he was more than happy to undertake.

(Domus of Aulus Plautius, Palatine Hill, Rome, same time)

 ‘A coward turns away, but a brave man’s choice is danger.’

On observing Menoeceus raising the alarm, Apollinus’ first thought was to flee whence he came, as he believed that he might not gain the opportunity to explain his intrusion before being battered to a pulp by the household servants for his trouble. However, the distressing thought of Britannicus losing his best and only current friend suddenly stiffened his resolve and he instead bravely stood his ground.

In fact, Menoeceus had not in alarm summoned other household servants. He had instead called Suffuscus from the stable in which both boys had been grooming Bucephalus and, on emerging from the wooden structure, his young master immediately commanded his 13 year-old slave to calm.

Suffuscus had instantly recognised Apollinus. From his own regular attendance at the nearby palace, and from elsewhere, the boy knew that the young man, dressed in the tunic of an Imperial servant, was the personal slave of Britannicus.

Apollinus also immediately recognised Suffuscus for similar reasons but, unlike the 15 year-old in reverse, was unable to recall their first meeting. Although I could remember the event, and had advised Gaius of the occasion, I had otherwise kept the secret from my other friends at the request of Aulus Plautius’ adopted son.

The first meeting between the pair had, of course, occurred on the Vatican Hill, which is just outside the official boundaries of Rome, almost 6 years previously when Apollinus had gone with Gaius, Hylas, Axenius and me to watch the procession of the gallae. After having our fortunes told there, my beloved had given a gold aureus to a begging street urchin at the astonishing behest of the strange female soothsayer who had declined the coin.

Unknowing to Apollinus, that young dirty and dishevelled street beggar had since amazingly been transformed into the beautiful young patrician now standing before him. The transmogrification had been so complete that Aulus Plautius’ adopted son could never, in my friend’s usually perceptive mind, be equated to remembrance of the poor sad urchin.

"You could have come into my father’s domus more normally via the vestibulum, Apollinus," a now smiling Suffuscus opened conversation by suggesting to the Imperial slave, "or do you prefer to make more dramatic entrances?" The unexpected visitor blushed in response and did not directly reply to the jest. With utter seriousness etched on his face, he instead begged "Please, Sir, I must see Aulus Plautius urgently!"

"Why?" Suffuscus not unreasonably asked. "I haven’t time to explain, Sir," Apollinus answered, "so can’t I just be allowed to see your father?"

"Not unless you provide me with an outline reason for your need and the urgency," Suffuscus retorted. The boy then excused his obstruction by advising "You see, Apollinus, with all due respect to you, my father observes traditional old-fashioned etiquette and is unlikely to grant a meeting to a slave, even an Imperial one, without a similar explanation."

Apollinus fully understood such old-fashioned proprieties, as he was accustomed to them at the Imperial court. Despite his rush, he therefore succumbed to Suffuscus’ request and outlined his mission.

"I’m afraid that my father isn’t here," Suffuscus subsequently disturbingly informed Apollinus. However, the boy then gave some hope by adding "But I know where he is!"

"Please tell me, Sir," Apollinus then pleaded but unfortunately Suffuscus produced another worrying answer. "I don’t believe my doing so will do you any good," the boy replied.

Suffuscus advised, with a hint of sarcasm not directed at Apollinus but at the current state of Imperial affairs, "You see, my father is at the palace in private audience with the Emperor. The Princeps invariably leaves orders not to be disturbed in such circumstances, as he and my parent will actually be drinking and playing dice whilst Agrippina attends to matters of state."

"You’re not a member of Claudius’ personal staff, Apollinus," Suffuscus added astutely, "and consequently, despite being an Imperial slave, I doubt that you’ll penetrate the Praetorian Guards to gain admittance to see my father for the reason you’ve given me. Even if you fibbed that you were on a mission of national importance, I don’t think you’d go any further than some minor official and then, when your lie is discovered, you’ll be punished severely and possibly even executed as a potential assassin."

After hearing Suffuscus, Apollinus’ handsome head sank and tears formed in his eyes as he appreciated the truth of the boy’s words.

(Tullianum Prison [also known in modern times as the ‘Mamertine Prison’], Forum Romanum, Rome, same time)

The magnificently uniformed Praetorian Prefect, Burrus, had left the Imperial palace on the Palatine Hill with a similarly resplendently attired small military escort. He soon marched across the Forum Romanum, where the important temples, law courts, other public buildings, banks and shops make this locale the heart of the city.

Nevertheless, although impressive, the rectangular Forum is relatively small. Burrus only took about two hundred paces to march from the Temples of Vesta and of Castor and Pollux at the south-eastern end at the base of the Palatine Hill to the north-western side at the foot of the Capitoline. If the Praetorian Prefect had crossed the other two sides, from the Basilica Aemilia and its shops to the Basilica Sempronia, his steps would only have amounted to fifty.

Burrus’ march had sent members of the public scurrying out of the way because the Praetorians are greatly feared. He had advanced past the raised rostra, where orators address the people and which are beautifully adorned with the rams of captured enemy ships, towards the Senate House, or ‘Curia’, to the left of which is the Temple of Saturn, which doubles as the state treasury. However, his destination was none of these splendid buildings but rather somewhere else, which, as I can testify, is exceedingly unpleasant.

Behind the Curia, at the north of the Forum, is the Tullianum Prison. This sinister ancient ‘carcer’ is, in my era, over four centuries old, having been built about the time of the first sack of Rome by Gauls.

The prison now consists of two circular chambers, one above the other. The lower, originally excavated from rock bolstered by tufa blocks, overlaid to form a conical vault, was once the cistern for a spring, hence the name of Tullianum, which is derived from the archaic Latin word for a jet of water, ‘tullius’. When the upper level, which is an irregular quadrilateral, was later constructed, the top of the cone was cut off and the present roof, consisting of a flat arch, substituted.

Prisoners incarcerated in the bottom level have to be lowered there by rope. If they later die, their bodies can be conveniently flushed out by opening a passage between the still extant cistern drain and the Cloaca Maxima, which is Rome’s main sewer. However, the Tullianum is not a holding prison, as Romans do not practise long-term incarceration as a punishment.

Only higher profile prisoners are customarily kept in the prison. They are often defeated foreign commanders awaiting their appearance in victorious Roman general’s triumphant procession before being executed. However, the reason for Burrus’ unusual visit did not concern such an inmate.

Burrus, much to his own personal distaste and bemusement, was instead carrying an Imperial warrant, which had been issued on the orders of Agrippina as soon as she had received a message from the prisoner currently incarcerated in the upper chamber of the Tullianum. To the disgust and mystification of the Praetorian Prefect, who knew better than to question the Empress’ motive, the document secured the release without charge of the famed gladiator, Didius, whom the local vigiles had arrested on New Year’s Eve for murder.

(Domus of Aulus Plautius, Palatine Hill, Rome, same time)

 ‘Thus have the gods spun the thread for wretched mortals: that they live in grief while they themselves are without cares; for two jars stand on the floor of Zeus of the gifts which he gives, one of evils and another of blessings.’

Happily, Apollinus’ extreme melancholy was lifted with remarkable rapidity when Suffuscus added to his previous statement. "However," the boy had suggested, "I believe that I could gain access to see my adoptive father, especially if I took Nero along to see his. I’m sure that the pair of us can conjure up an acceptable reason for the intrusion, which will be boosted by our status, so that we pass the Praetorians safely!"

"But I don’t think Nero will agree," Apollinus objected, "because I don’t believe he likes Britannicus." "Oh, I think that you’re underestimating my influence over the prince," Suffuscus replied, without intending any immodesty, "but, just in case you’re right, I’ll give my friend a different explanation for wanting to disturb our adoptive fathers."

Suffuscus was, of course, offering to complete Apollinus’ mission, which had been stimulated by discovery, via the unrepentant Narcissus, of the background reason for Titus’ impending departure from Rome. The now wearily pessimistic Imperial secretary had rather harshly suggested that, if Britannicus really cared for his best friend, then he should allow him to go to experience companionship and be educated in more secure surrounds than currently existed in the palace.

"What about Britannicus’ happiness, Sir?" Apollinus had queried, whilst just managing to hide his anger. "What about Titus’ safety?" Narcissus had retorted in respect of the elder son of his own friend, Vespasianus.

"Only the gods know where Agrippina’s plotting will eventually lead us all," Narcissus added, "and anyone who has the chance to escape from her sight and mind should take the opportunity. I’m even considering the option myself by retiring. However, Britannicus cannot flee and can only instead await his fate, as my ability and that of others to help him is fast diminishing, whereas Titus can more advantageously remove himself from harm’s way. Without frightening him too much by fully explaining the possible danger he’s in, the prince should be encouraged to accept his best friend’s better fortune with stoic bravery. "

"Despite the philosophy being followed by Seneca and his principal tutor, Cornutus, Britannicus has no liking for stoicism," Apollinus quipped, but in continued suppressed fury and to no avail regarding Narcissus’ attitude. The Imperial secretary appeared to be giving the prince up as lost to Agrippina’s machinations, whilst trying to save whoever else he could from her vengefulness.

Apollinus, however, was not so pessimistic. He firmly believed that Britannicus could survive but only if his morale was maintained, and his best friend, Titus, was an essential ingredient for that to happen. He also correctly surmised that the latter boy, whom by now he knew well, would sincerely and maturely, despite his tender age, desperately want to continue the close companionship, regardless of the dangers.

After his meeting with Narcissus, Apollinus had considered going directly to plead with Titus’ father, Vespasianus. However, he guessed that such begging, from a mere slave, would achieve nothing if the parent was as concerned for his elder son’s welfare as the Imperial secretary obviously was.

Apollinus instead cleverly devised another route to attempt to influence Vespasianus’ decision. He worked out that if one man, other than Narcissus and the Emperor, who was not a realistic option, could change the mind of young Titus’ father, it was surely his former superior in Britannia, Aulus Plautius.

Apollinus had therefore set out to beg Aulus Plautius to convince Vespasianus to change his mind. However, this mission was now Suffuscus’ responsibility to fulfil.

(Domus of Axenius, Quirinal Hill, Rome, early afternoon of the same day)

Rome is a city of largely uncritical belief in the powers of the gods, in honour of whom temples and other edifices, such as statues, abound. The metropolis is also one of frequent sacrifices, of the likes of goats, sheep, bulls, pigs and doves, and predictions, resulting from divination through the shape of clouds, flights of birds and lightening flashes.

Rome is additionally full of spirits, or ‘lares’, who guard homes. At their domestic altar, the ‘lararium’, families place daily offerings, whilst ‘manes’, or benevolent ancestral spirits, are regularly presented with gifts at graves or tombs.

Not all spirits, however, are benevolent. The worst are the ‘lemures’, bloodsucking ghosts of resentful forebears who died unnaturally and emerge from the underworld in Maius when consequently temples are closed and marriage is deemed unlucky. At that time, every household conducts nocturnal rites to drive away the shades of people who expired before their time.

The head of the household leaves his bed at night and washes his hands. He subsequently places nine black beans in his mouth before spitting them individually back out, whilst with each declaring "With these I ransom me and mine!"

The malevolent spectres are supposed to eat the offerings whilst the householder turns his back to wash his hands again. He then beats a gong nine times very loudly, whilst commanding "Ancestral ghosts, depart!"

Corntus, with the help of his assistant and lover, Servius, was not yet conducting such extreme rites out of season. However, he was currently overseeing prayers and offerings at the domestic lararium in order to beg the household spirits for the safeguarding of Axenius and Pliny in distant Germania.

In attendance were the current children of the household, Anacletus, Axenia, Arius, Achilleus and Tyanus, along with the thirty domestic slaves. Also kindly frequenting the service were Caratacus and his own five offspring, plus, despite their serious hangovers, Petronius and Encolpius, Rubellius Plautius, Persius and Quintilianus and Nerva and Silius Italicus. The elegentiae arbiter’s abstemious Giton and the equally sober Lucanus were additionally present.

Apollinus and Helius and Doryphorus were supposedly unable to come during the daytime because of their official palace duties but all three had promised to visit to make separate prayer offerings that night. However, none of the sceptical adults who were currently doing so during the day really believed that Axenius and Pliny would be aided by the spirits and so be seen alive and well again.

The religious rites were actually only performed to try to bolster temporarily the morale of the distraught Anacletus, Axenia and Arius. However, the children would undoubtedly someday have to accept that they had forever lost their beloved Axenius and his intimate friend, Pliny.

Meanwhile, Cornutus would also soon agree to allow Anacletus and Arius, along with Achilleus and Tyanus, go with their school-friends, Lucanus and Caratacus’ three sons, to enjoy some hectic entertainment in order further to help alleviate their present concerns.

(Palatine Hill, Rome, shortly afterwards)

 ‘The road up and the road down is one and the same.’

As Apollinus and his young companion, around whose shoulder he had placed one arm in a gesture of comfort, were advancing to the Palatine Hill from the direction of the Subura Quarter, they approached from the northeast. This route took them past the Temple of Castor and Pollux at the southern edge of the Forum Romanum and enabled them to ascend the cobbled ‘Clivius Victoriae’, which is the oldest and most exclusive street in Rome. People approaching from the other direction would have emerged from the Velabrum area in the southwest, which has a very busy market selling food, oils and wine.

The ‘clivius’ element of the name of the street up which Apollinus and his young companion walked means ‘slope’ and therefore hints at the steep climb along the edge of the bluff of the hill that the pair had to make to ascend the thoroughfare. The route took them past the Temple of the Great Mother, or ‘Magna Mater’, on the right, which was currently very noisy with the ceremonial wild songs and clashing of cymbals of Cybele’s eunuch priests.

At the hilltop, the Clivius Victoriae extends southwards on the brow, with the local palatial houses to the west overlooking the valley of the Forum Romanum and Capitoline beyond. The pair’s destination was the biggest and most splendid residence, which also faced the Circus Maximus to the south.

(Imperial palace, Palatine Hill, Rome, late afternoon of the same day)

"Right everyone," Sarapion shouted, "into the laconium in the thermae!" The renowned athletics coach was, of course, referring to the steam-room, which possessed a central tub of boiling water and was located in the opulent baths adjacent to the palace palaestra.

"Oh, do we have to finish?" one of the naked boys asked in disappointment that the long ballgame, in which he and nine other similarly nude young male beauties had just happily indulged, was finishing. "I’m afraid so, Sir," Sarapion countered, "as your friends have to go before darkness descends because Suffuscus promised their parents and guardians to have them back before sunset."

"So, everyone please proceed to the laconium," Sarapion requested, "for the oiling of your sweaty bodies before bathing. However, if you’re all good, I’m sure that I can arrange for you to play again tomorrow!"

"Well, if that’s the case," the same boy exclaimed, as he ran off towards the steam-room, "I’ll bet I’ll be the first in the laconium!" "Oh, no you won’t," declared another, as he dashed after his best friend.

As Britannicus and Titus rushed towards the laconium, their new friends, gathered by Suffuscus at Apollinus’ request to form the two 5-a-side teams to play the ballgame, followed with equal enthusiasm and speed. In the process, Lucanus led Anacletus, Arrius, Achilleus and Tyanus, plus Caratacus’ three sons, Cyllin, Cynon and Lleyn.

Waiting for the boys in the steamy laconium were the almost naked Apollinus and Suffuscus, whose nudity was only covered by towels around their slim waists. They had previously acted as Sarapion’s assistants in keeping ten happy enthusiastically playful youngsters under some semblance of control. However, the duo’s latest role was evident from the strigils readied in their hands.