“That affair of the magistrate of Coma, to whom you gave the franchise,” said Curio, “was extremely unfortunate.  You of course heard long ago how Marcellus, the consul, had him beaten with rods and sent home, to show[124]—­as he said—­to you, Caesar, the print of his stripes.”

  [124] Caesar had given the magistrates of towns of the north of Italy
  the Roman franchise:  no Roman citizens could be lawfully flogged. 
  By his action Marcellus denied Caesar’s right to confer the franchise.

The face of the proconsul reddened, then grew black with hardly reined fury.

“Yes, most unfortunate for Marcellus.”  It was all that Caesar said, but Drusus would not have exchanged his life then, for that of Marcellus, for a thousand talents of gold.

“And our dear friend, Cato,” went on Curio, who was perhaps not unwilling to stir the vials of his superior’s wrath, “has just sworn with an oath in public, that as soon as your army is disbanded he will press an impeachment against you; and I’ve heard it reported that you will be compelled to plead, like Milo when he was tried for the Clodius affair, before judges overawed by armed men.”

“I anticipate no such proceeding,” said Caesar, dryly, in an accent of infinite contempt.  Then turning to Drusus, he entirely changed his intonation.

“So long,” he said, with a shrug of his rather slight shoulders, “we have talked of comitias and senates!  Praise to the gods, all life is not passed in the Forum or Curia!  And now, my dear Quintus, let us put aside those tedious matters whereof we all three have talked and thought quite enough, and tell me of yourself; for, believe me, our friendship would be one-sided indeed, if all your trouble and exertion went for me, and you received no solicitude in return.”

And Drusus, who had at first found his words coming awkwardly enough, presently grew fluent as he conversed with the proconsul.  He told of his student days at Athens, of his studies of rhetoric and philosophy, of his journey back to Praeneste, and the incidents of the sea voyage, and land travel; of his welcome at Praeneste by the old retainers and the familia of the Drusi, and then of his recent political work at Rome.

“These have been the chief events of my life, Caesar,” he concluded, “and since you have condescended to hear, I have ventured to tell; but why need I ask if such a commonplace tale of a young man who has yet his life to live, should interest you?”

Caesar smiled, and laying down the beaker from which he was sipping very slowly, replied:—­