The Roman Questions (98-101)

Why do the censors, when they take office, do nothing else before they contract for the food of the sacred geese[*] and the polishing of the statue?[*]

Is it that they begin with the most trivial things, matters that require little expense or trouble?

Or is this a commemoration of an old debt of gratitude owed to these creatures for their services in the Gallic wars?[*] For when in the night the barbarians were already climbing over the rampart of the Capitol, the gee se perceived the invaders, although the dogs were asleep, and waked the guards by their clamour.

Or is it because the censors are guardians of the most important matters, and, since it is their duty to oversee and to busy themselves with sacred and State affairs and with the lives, morals, and conduct of the people, they immediately take into account the most vigilant of creatures, and at the same time by their care of the geese they urge the citizens not to be careless or indifferent about sacred matters?

But the polishing[*] of the statue is absolutely necessary: for the red pigment, with which they used to tint ancient statues, rapidly loses its freshness.

Why is it that, if any one of the other priests is condemned and exiled, they depose him and elect another, but the augur, as long as he lives, even if they find him guilty of the worst offences, they do not

deprive of his priesthood?[*] They call augurs the men who are in charge of the omens.

Is it, as some say, because they wish no one who is not a priest to know the secrets of the holy rites?

Or, because the augur is bound by oaths to reveal the sacred matters to no one, are they unwilling to release him from his oath as would be the case if he had been reduced to private status?

Or is augur a name denoting, not a rank or office, but knowledge and skill? Then to prevent a soothsayer from being a soothsayer would be like voting that a musician shall not be a musician, nor a physician a physician: for they cannot deprive him of his ability, even if they take away his title. They naturally appoint no successor since they keep the original number of augurs.

Why is it that on the Ides of August, formerly called Sextilis, all the slaves, female and male, keep holiday, and the Roman women make a particular practice of washing and cleansing their heads?

Do the servants have release from work because on this day King Servius was born from a captive maid-servant?[*] And did the washing of their heads begin with the slave-women, because of their holiday, and extend itself to free-born women?

Why do they adorn their children’s necks with amulets which they call bullae?[*]

Was it, like many another thing, in honour of their

wives, who had been made theirs by force, that they voted this also as a traditional ornament for the children born from them?

Or is it to honour the manly courage of Tarquin? For the tale is told that, while he was still but a boy, in the battle against the combined Latin and Etruscan forces he charged straight into the enemy; and although he was thrown from his horse, he boldly withstood those that hurled themselves upon him, and thus gave renewed strength to the Romans. A brilliant rout of the enemy followed, sixteen thousand were killed, and he received this amulet as a prize of valour from his father the king.

Or did the Romans of early times account it not disreputable nor disgraceful to love male slaves in the flower of youth, as even now their comedies[*] testify, but they strictly refrained from boys of free birth; and that they might not be in any uncertainty, even when they encountered them unclad, did the boys wear this badge?

Or is this a safeguard to insure orderly conduct, a sort of bridle on incontinence, that they may be ashamed to pose as men before they have put off the badge of childhood?

What Varro and his school say is not credible: that since boulê (counsel) is called bolla by the Aeolians, the boys put on this ornament as a symbol of good counsel.

But consider whether they may not wear it because of the moon. For the visible shape of the moon at the first quarter is not like a sphere, but like a lentil-seed

or a quoit; and, as Empedocles[*] thinks, so also is the matter of which the moon is composed.