IV Euntes AD Ludum Literarium — Going to School
Cirratus, Praetextatus, Titivillitium, Teresula (An Old Woman, A Woman Seller of Vegetables)
The names of the interlocutors in this dialogue for the most part signify something serious and ancient. Cirrati pueri were those boys who wore their hair curled and crisped. Krausz Haar. For the cirrus is an instrument devised for the curling of hair.
Martial:
Nec matutini cirrata caterva magistri.
Juvenal:
Flavam
Caesariem et madido torquentem cornua cirro.
Persius, Satyr, i.:
Ten’ cirratorum centum dictata fuisse
Pro nihilo pendas?
Praetextatus puer is another way of referring to a noble or patrician, for his outer garment was bordered with purple, and thus worn by boys up to fourteen years of age, or as others say, up to sixteen, when such an one assumed the toga virilis in the Capitol. See Macrob. lib. i. Satur. cap. 6. Budae, in prior. annot. ad l. fin. De senator. Alexand. lib. 2, cap. 25. Baysius, de re vestiment. Sigonius, lib. 3, de judic. cap. 19. Papirius, a certain Roman, was called praetextatus because in the praetextata age he showed the height of prudence. See Macrob.
Titivillitium formerly was a word declaring nothing certain, but just an exclamation, indicating extreme uncertainty. The word was used by Plautus. See Proverb, Titivillitium.
Oluscularia, a woman selling vegetables. Λαχανοπῶλις.
Cirr. Does it seem to you to be time to go to school?
Praet. Certainly, it is time to go.
Cirr. I don’t properly remember the way; I believe we have to go through this next street.
Praet. How often have you already been to the school?
Cirr. Three or four times.
Praet. When did you first go?
Cirr. As I think, three or four days ago.
Praet. Well, now; isn’t that enough to enable you to know the way?
Cirr. No, not if it were a hundred times of going.
Praet. Why, if I were to go once, never afterwards should I miss the way. But you go, against your will, and as you go, you stop and play. You don’t look at the way, nor at the houses, nor any signs which would show you afterwards which way you should turn, or which way you should follow. But I observe all these points diligently, because I go gladly.
Cirr. This boy lives quite close to the school. Here, you, Titivillitium, which is the way to your house?
Tit. What do you want? Do you come from your mother? My mother is not at home, nor even my sister. Both have gone out to St. Anne’s.
Cirr. What then is to be done?
Tit. Yesterday was dedication festival (encaenia). Today some woman who sells cheese has invited them to a meal at the house called “Thick Milk” (lac coagulatum).
Cirr. And why haven’t you gone with them?
Tit. They have left me at home to keep house. They have taken my little brother with them, but they have promised me that they would bring back something of what was left for me in a basket.
Cirr. But why art thou then not remaining at home?
Tit. I shall return immediately, only I will now play dice a little with the son of this cobbler. Will you also come with us?
Cirr. We will go, please.
Praet. Certainly I shall not do so.
Cirr. Why not?
Praet. We don’t want to get a thrashing.
Cirr. Ah! I had not thought of that.
Tit. You won’t get thrashed.
Cirr. How do you know that?
Tit. Because your master lost his rod (ferula) to-day.
Cirr. Eh! by what means did you get to know that?
Tit. To-day we heard him from our house shouting out—and it was for his ferula he was seeking.
Cirr. I beg of you, let us play for a short time.
Praet. Play you, if you will; but I shall go on to school at once.
Cirr. I beg of you, don’t report me to the master. Say that I am kept by my father at home.
Praet. Do you wish me to tell a lie?
Cirr. Why not, for a friend’s sake?
Praet. Because I have heard a preacher in a church declare that liars are the sons of the devil, but truth-tellers, sons of God.
Cirr. Of the devil, indeed! Get away! By the sign of the holy cross, may our God free us from our enemies!
Praet. Thou canst not be freed to play when thou oughtest to go and learn.
Cirr. Let us go. Farewell.
Tit. Oh, I say! these boys dare not stay and play a moment because otherwise they would get thrashed!
Praet. This boy is a waster and will become a bad man! See how has he slipped away from us without our having asked him which is the way to the school? Let us call him back.
Cirr. Let him go his evil ways. I don’t wish him again to invite me to play. We will inquire from this old woman. Mother, do you know which is the way to the school of Philoponus?
Old Woman. I have lived near this school for six years, just opposite to it where my eldest son and two daughters were born. You cross this street (the Villa Rasa Street), then comes a narrow lane, then the Dominus Veteranus Street. Hence you turn to the right, then to the left, there you must inquire, for the school is not far from there.
Cirr. Ah! we cannot remember all that!
Old Woman. My little Teresa, lead these boys to the school of Philoponus, for the mother of this one here was she who gave us the thread for combing and spinning.
Ter. What in the name of evil have you to do with Philoponus? What sort of man is this Philoponus? As if I knew him! Do you speak of the man who mends shoes near the Green Inn (cauponam viridem) or of the herald in the Giant Street, who keeps horses on hire?
Old Woman. This I know well, that you never know those things which are wanted, but those which have nothing to do with the matter in hand. Slowest of girls, Philoponus is that old schoolmaster, tall, short-sighted man, opposite the house where we used to live.
Ter. Ah! now it comes back to my mind.
Old Woman. In returning, go across the market and buy salad, radish, and cherries. Take with you the little basket.
Cirr. Lead us also over the vegetable market.
Ter. This way is shorter.
Cirr. We don’t wish to go that way.
Ter. Why so?
Cirr. Because the dog in that street, belonging to the baker, bit me once. We would rather go with you to the market.
Ter. Returning I will make the journey through the market (for we are not far from it) and I will buy what I was told to buy, after I have left you at the school.
Cirr. We desire to see how much you give for the cherries.
Ter. We buy them at six farthings a pound; but what is that to you?
Cirr. Because my sister ordered me this morning to inquire. She particularly mentioned there is an old woman in the market who sells vegetables. If you buy of her, I know that she will sell you at a less price than they will elsewhere, and she will give us a few cherries or thyrsus of lettuce, for her daughter formerly served my mother and sister.
Ter. I hope that this roundabout way may not let you in for some lashes.
Cirr. Not at all. For we shall have plenty of time.
Ter. Let us go. I get so little chance of walks, wretched that I am, for my time is all taken up sitting at home.
Praet. What do you do? Do you merely sit idly at home?
Ter. Idly, indeed! Not at any rate that! I spin, I gather (wool) into a ball, wind, weave. Do you think our old woman would let me sit idle? She curses feast-days, on which there must be a stoppage of work.
Praet. Are not feast-days holy? How can she curse what is holy? Does she wish to curse what has been ordained as holy?
Ter. Do you think that I have learned geometry that I should be able to explain these things to you?
Cirr. What do you mean by geometry?
Ter. I don’t know. We had a neighbour who was called Geometria. She was always either in church with priests, or the priests were with her at her house. And so she was, as they said, very wise.—But we have come into the vegetable market. Where is now your old woman?
Cirr. I was looking round about for her. But buy of her only on the condition that she gives us something as a present. Ah! great-aunt (amita). This girl will buy cherries of you, if you will give us some.
Vegetable Woman. We are given nothing; we have to buy everything.
Cirr. That dirt which you have on your hands and neck was not given to you, was it?
Vegetable Woman. Unless you take yourself off, you impudent boy, your cheeks will feel some of this dirt on them.
Cirr. How will my cheeks feel, when you have it on your hands?
Vegetable Woman. Give those cherries back, you young rogue.
Cirr. I am merely sampling, for I wish to buy.
Vegetable Woman. Then buy.
Cirr. Provided they have pleased me. How do you sell them?
Vegetable Woman. A sesterce a pound.
Cirr. Ah! they are bitter, you old poisoner! You are selling here cherries to people to choke them.
Ter. Let us go away to the school. For you will get me involved in difficulties with your subtleties, and you will detain me too long. Now, as I think, my old woman is raging at home, on account of my delay in returning. There is the door. Knock at it.