Squinting at a blackboard filled with indecipherable chalk markings, you attempt to absorb the five declensions. Latin grammar becomes mere squiggles and scrawls; -a, -ae, -ae, -am, -a becomes a nonsensical chant. In a room decked out in laurel wreaths and books upon books of the Aeneid, the difference between 10 BC and 2022 CE is marginal. In between painstakingly tedious translations of Caesar’s Gallic Wars and the more enjoyable scansion practice, your mind begins to wander. To fill in the gaps of boredom, you invent a character. The character’s life becomes more detailed each hour your class spends discussing subjunctives: a small patrician boy named Marcus.
Marcus, although only ten years old, is a victim of his own precocity. Spending days studying the tenets of a classical education under the instruction of his private tutor, he grows more desirous of knowledge. Marcus’ intellectual curiosity leads him to burn the midnight oil, feverishly reading Plato’s dialogues. His thirst for knowledge, given his privilege to search for knowledge, consumes him.
After yet another sleepless night spent meditating over whether Socrates was right in believing that we truly know nothing, Marcus takes a walk around the forum. A glimmer in the corner of his bloodshot eyes reveals a merchant, adorned in colorful garb, gesticulating intensely to a crowd of clamoring children. Marcus takes another peer at the strange man, who hands one of the aforementioned children a strange-looking book. Once the crowd has cleared, Marcus walks up to the merchant.
Back To School In Rome
Central Gubernator eva Merkoziaj
4
Marcus surveys the merchant’s sunken eyes to find a glint.
“Why, it was but a book explaining the true nature of the universe! I’m sure it would be of infinite value for you. Absolutely priceless, though it does come at a cost. 400 sestertii.”
“Why should I trust that you’re telling the truth?”
“Aren’t you one of Magister Silvis’ students?”
“Yes,” Marcus states, with reticence.
"Then you should know that
Eduardus’ writings are in your curriculum for the year. What better time than now to get ahead in your studies?”
The offer seemed tempting enough for the wealthy Marcus, having
“Good morning, young man. What brings you to my stand?” The decrepit merchant cracks a smile, with whatever facial muscle-movement he can muster.
“I was just observing your interactions with that swarm of children, and I became restless. What book did you hand him?"
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