Aemillia
watched a nobly clad man walk powerfully onto the stage. He began to declare with all the skill of an orator
that the first two audiences had been unable to focus fully on the play. Apparently the initial two audiences had been
distracted by boxers, rope-dancers, and gladiators, so he pleaded that we would
pay attention. She found it ironic that
a man capable of acting like the most respectable senator was a slave. Seated beside her, Publius Crassus the
younger turned to smile at her and grabbed her hand. He took her hand in his and placed them both
on his thigh. Aemillia did her best to
smile back genuinely and then focused completely on the play.
She watched
the beautifully dressed actors play out the scene before her. A drunken man, Pamphilus, raped a young virgin and stole her ring. Empathetic with the
young women, Aemillia became engrossed in the story. She felt betrayed when this man gave the
virgin’s stolen ring to his courtesan, Bacchis.
Publius began to stroke her hand with his thumb, trying to regain her
attention. He has just returned with
Caesar’s forces from Spain. This was the
celebration of their triumph and she was ignoring him to watch male slaves
scamper about wearing masks.
As the play continued, and
Pamphilus unknowingly marries the woman he had wronged, Aemillia became aware
that Publius constant rubbing had made her index finger feel unusually
sensitive. Irritated at the discomfort
his calloused hands had caused, she quickly pulled her hand from his and clasped
it in her lap. She kept her eyes focused
on the stage this entire time.
Publius was stunned. Didn’t she miss him? He had been gone for so long. Frustrated that even in public she constantly
showed her indifference for him, he reached over, firmly took her hand, and
held it awkwardly suspended between the chairs.
