An augustinian history

It all started in a clear spring day, a day to spend in the fields, or in the street to play, or even in the theatre to look at merciless entertainment or in the public baths. For someone it was a terrible day, perhaps due to certain divine adversities focused on them, while for others, more likable to the gods, it was a morning full of blessings.

The lawyers fought in court, the emperor enjoyed his famous Augustinian peace, the mothers spanked their children, and the writers, the ones already known, were in the circle of Maecenas, sharing ideas, good wine or simple anecdotes.

It was always like that in the circle, among lust, partying, money and creativity, everyone found an activity that suited them. Among general laughter, obscene jokes and great speeches, it was not difficult to notice, in a corner of one of the many rooms, a lonely poet, far from everyone, seated in silence, without exchanging a word with anyone, if not a few acquaintances who weren't sure if they thought of themselves as his friends. The young Virgil was just 30 years old, none of his work was noteworthy yet, but he had years of studies. Virgil seemed to be very shy because he spoke little and he didn't easily join the debates or go into the crowd, he didn't talk about his ideas and in his first public speech he had made such a ridiculous figure that many writers didn't understand the reason for Maecenas's sympathy for him (many of which, in the future, weren't going to be remembered even by mistake). In fact Virgil in his first public speech didn't say a single word. He had been staring at his audience in silence, mute and scared.

He was about come back to Naples at that time. In a few days he would finally come back to his quiet life in the countryside, in the tranquillity of nature, in the heart-breaking memory of his ancient heritage taken away from him during civil wars, but in a cherished dream of a peaceful future, immersed in books, whose reading could not be ruined by his defects in pronunciation as in a speech, and immersed in the peacefulness of writing. The last one was a tormented love; Virgil, like many writers, lived in the love and hatred of his works: the juvenile ones embarrassed him to the point of hoping that they would be forgotten and burned. The current ones instead remained constantly incomplete, interrupted, revised for days and days and deleted, deleted, deleted and never rewritten.

(Luck perhaps wants that many of Virgil's early works are now be questioned, since most academics don't believe they belong to him. Virgil you can catch a breath, no one believes you wrote them!)

Virgil silently watched the other writers at Maecenas's, and saw one of his friends, Asinio Pollione. "Publius! Are you leaving then?"

"Yes, I'm going back to Naples."

"But what are you going to do in Naples!! Here we are in Rome, Publius! This is where the greats are born!"

"Oh, Asinio, I understand but to be honest I can't write anything here in Rome. Maybe I can't write anything in general. I don't know how to talk properly, I don't know how to write either." Asinio hugged him with a friendly pat amused by him. Virgil looked at him frowning but trying to smile.

"Hey, Maecenas has never missed a shot, he got everyone right, everyone! The greatest writers are here Virgil, and you're here! There must be a reason!"

"Maecenas is crazy?" Asinio laughed happily under Virgil's embarrassed gaze, who realized he was not being taken seriously at all.

"You can't write because you're too busy! You need someone to do all the work for you!"

"Oh, Asinio, I don't know what you're talking about but..."

"Tomorrow come to my house before leaving, Virgil, and I'll give you something essential for your life. Trust me, you won't regret it."

Virgil didn't believe even remotely that Asinio could give to him a gift somehow useful and indeed he had serious qualms about that. However, he was a man of honour and showed up at his home as promised. The friend gave him a warm welcome offering him grapes, bananas (hehe you fell for it, right? Bananas didn't exist in Italy at the time), other delicacies and wine, which Virgil politely refused.