New Pupil

Lysicles

I made good on my promise (to myself) and returned today to the office of Mordanticus. Decentius, to my great relief, was there. I approached him humbly: “Noble Decentius.”

He looked at me and nodded, “Good morning, Antinous.” I stood directly in front of him and said, “I am shamed, Sir, by the behaviour I exhibited before you yesterday when you made your request. It sprang from a very irrational fear, and since that time I have experienced a considerable remorse at having treated you so callously. I ask your forgiveness. And I say to you that I would be most honoured to hold the privilege of being your tutor.”

He gazed at me for a long while before speaking. “It is a great man, Antinous, who can stand before another and admit, with a clarity of words as well as heart, that he has been wrong. I have heard many men speak of your intellect; they were certainly not hard to doubt. And too, I have heard much talk of your strength of character and conviction. Yet after our exchange, I confess to have spent the night doubting it. Thankfully, my doubt has been suddenly slain. You are indeed a noble soul, and I salute you."

And so it was ended: my shame turned instantly to pride at having sealed a very fine bond with such a direct and uncluttered man. The sickening churn in the pit of my stomach suddenly was gone, and in its place I felt a great fortitude of spirit, as though the physical strength of Decentius was magically become my own.

“When the Emperor is in Rome, my days are full, and thus are you and I relegated to evenings or holidays. Yet when Hadrian is in Tibur, I am blessed with a remarkable freedom. Therefore I shall defer to you: whenever your duties permit you to meet with me, so long as I am able, I shall oblige.”

Decentius smiled and made a very small bow of the head. “I am very grateful to you.”

I excused myself in order to deliver last night’s letter to Mordanticus. He received me promptly and we chatted for a small time about inconsequential matters. When I emerged again, Decentius was still waiting. I turned and looked up at him – for although I have grown steadily over the past year, the soldier still stood half a head taller than I. “When shall we begin?” I asked him.

We set a time for a few days hence, and I told him I would begin to make preparations. Just before I was set to depart, however, he asked me, “Which is the better language to learn – Latin or Greek?” I considered his question carefully before answering. “Most of what is learned and ancient is written in Greek, although there is more and more being written in Latin.”

“Which do you prefer?” he asked. I needed no time to think with this one: “I still prefer my Greek, for it is the language of my childhood.” Decentius smiled and replied, “Then that is the language I wish to learn.”

I was touched by this, but far more practical concerns quickly sprouted in my brain: “Do you not think it will be easier to learn to read your Latin first, as it is a language you already understand?” He contemplated my thoughts, and I amazed to myself that I was already thinking like a teacher. I continued: “Once you have mastered the technique of putting together letters in the formulation of words, you may then advance to a second language – which will require you to learn not only a new set of symbols, but an entire vocabulary as well.”

Decentius suddenly appeared doubtful. “’Tis a mighty program of study you are prescribing for me, Antinous.” I chuckled and shook my head. “Nay, Sir – it is a program you are prescribing for yourself. I am merely here to direct you.” When he understood the full significance of those words, he nodded. I reached out to grasp his hand and he in turn grasped mine. And then I left him, feeling lighter upon my feet and happier in my breast. I was excited for him! Tomorrow I shall dash off to visit Maltinus, and ask for his advice on approaching such an elementary pupil.

That is all, Lysicles. I only wished to inform you of my success at making amends, and the joy it has inspired in me. There is other news, of course, but it must wait until I can get to it. I have spent far too much time lately writing letters! And yet, not surprisingly, I persist in missing you dearly. A.