LETTER 20
TO CALVISIUS
"PAY a penny, and I'll tell you a golden tale" ‹nay, two or three, for one brings to my mind another. 'Tis no matter which I begin with, so take them as follows.
Verania, thc wife of that Piso who was adopted by Galba, lay extremely ill: upon this occasion Regulus made her a visit. By the way, mark the assurance of the man, to visit a sick lady to whom he was so extremely odious, and to whose husband he was a declared enemy! Even barely to enter her house would have been impudent enough; but he had the confidence to go much farther, and very familiarly placed himself by her bed's side. He began with inquiring what day and hour she was born. Being informed of these particulars, he composes his countenance, fixes his eyes, mutters something to himself, conunts on his fingers; nothing comes of it. After keeping the poor lady on tenterhooks, "You are," says he,"in one of your climacterics; however, you will get over it. But for your greater satisfaction, I will consult with a certain diviner, whose skill I have frequently experienced." Accordingly away he goes, sacrifices, and returns with the strongest assurances that inspection of the victim's entrails confirmed what he had predicted by astrology. Upon this the good woman, made credulous by her dangerous state, calls for her will, and gives Regulus a handsome legacy. Some time afterwards her distemper increased; and in her last moments she exclaimed against this perfidious, worse than perjured, wretch, who had wished every curse might befall his son, if what he promised her was not true. But such sort of imprecations are as common with Regulus as they are impious; and he continually devotes that unhappy youth to the curses of those gods by whom he swears falsely every day.
Velleius Blaesus, a person of consular dignity and remarkable for his immense wealth, in his last sickness had an inclination to make some alterations in his will. Regulus, who had lately endeavoured to insinuate himself into his friendship, hoped to receive some advantage by the intended change, and accordingly applies himself to his physicians, and conjures them to exert all their skill to prolong the poor man's life. But the moment the will was signed, his role and style were changed: "How long, says he to these very physicians, "do you design to keep this poor fellow in misery? Since you cannot preserve his life, why grudge him an easy death?" Blaesus is since dead; and as if he had overheard every word that Regulus had said, he has not left him one farthing.
Will two stories serve you, or must you have a third, according to the canon of the schools? lf so, Regulus will supply you.
You must know then, that Aurelia, a lady of property, designing to execute her will, had dressed herself for that purpose in a very splendid manner. Regulus, who was present as a witness, turned about to the lady, and, "Pray," says he, "leave me these fine clothes." Aurelia at first thought him in jest; but he insisted upon it very seriously, and, to make a long story short, obliged her to open her will, and insert this legacy; and though he saw her write it, yet he would not be satisfied till he read the clause himself. However Aurelia is still alive; though Regulus forced her to make this bequest, as though her death were imminent. And yet legacies and estates are conferred upon this abandoned man as if he really deserved them!
But why should I fret myself at this in a city where impudence and iniquity have long received the same, do I say, even greater encouragement than modesty and virtue? Regulus is a glaring instance of this truth, who, from a state of indigence, has, by a train of the most villainous actions, arrived to such immense riches, that he once told me himself, upon consulting the omens to know how soon he should be worth sixty millions of sesterces, he found a double liver within the sacrificial victim, which portended that he should possess double that sum. And so he will, if he continues thus to dictate wills for other people; a sort of forgery, in my estimation, of all others the most infamous. Farewell.