[297] DAUGHTER OF ARES. A name given to Rome in consequence of the well-known legend, that Romulus and Remus were sons of the war-god Mars and the vestal virgin Rhea Silvia. Quintus here uses the Hellenic name Ares, as the words Ῥώμη θυγάτηρ Ἄρεος which occur in the first verse of a celebrated ode by the Greek poetess Melinno (600 B.C.) flitted before his mind. [298] AGAINST CHRISTIANITY. Concerning the persecutions of the Christians under Domitian, see Dio Cass. XLVII, 16. CHAPTER XVII. When Caius Aurelius had finished the fourth canto of the Thebais, Octavia put an end to the reading; breakfast was waiting in the little dining-room. The young man was invited to join them, and they passed a pleasant hour over the meal. They were all accustomed to their father’s absence, for business had lately so completely absorbed him, that he would hardly give himself time to drink a glass of Falernian, as he sat at work, or to snatch a morsel of food. Octavia lamented it, but, on the other hand, she was proud of it as well; she rejoiced too in the confident anticipation of a long period of rest and enjoyment to succeed this last great effort. Lucilia found dinner without him very dull, as she took an opportunity of whispering very pointedly to her sister. This was, in fact, rather strange, for Aurelius, whose tongue seemed to have been loosed by the reading of the heroic poem, displayed the greatest aptitude for all the accomplishments of social life. The triclinium positively sparkled with good humor, even Lucilia belied herself, for more than once she broke out into a merry laugh, the very reverse of dull. Herodianus, who had come to escort his master home, and who had the honor of being invited to share the meal, was astonished at the brilliancy of the young man, who was usually so silent and glanced suspiciously at the crystal cup, as if that might be accountable for so strange a phenomenon. And Baucis swore by the great Isis, that never in her life had she known a Roman knight with such delightful qualities as Aurelius, who had a kind word even for her, a stupid old woman, and who read poetry so divinely. The Batavian took his leave about mid-day; he sent his respectful greetings through Octavia to the master of the house, fearing to disturb so busy a personage at this hour of the day. “And what next?” cried Lucilia, as the door closed upon Aurelius. “Shall we lie down to sleep, sweet Claudia, or order the litter to go to the Campus Martius?”[299] “Just which you please. The day is fine, and we might walk for an hour under the colonnade of Agrippa.”[300] “Will you come with us, dear mother?” asked Lucilia. “How can I,” said Octavia smiling. “I must be on the spot, when your father leaves his work. If you are not content to go alone, Baucis may....”