Peek-A-Boo

Engraving of Emperor Nero

Every so often during the course of my research, the author will share a historical anecdote. Characters pop in for the duration of a paragraph, then disappear, leaving us to wonder about the rest of their lives. Feels like an archaic game of peek-a-boo.

Take this situation, for instance. Suetonius tells us that Emperor Nero fancied himself a great actor. Usually the audience endured his productions without comment, but something unexpected happened during “The Frenzy of Hercules.”

“They say a young recruit, seeing the emperor in mean attire and bound in chains, as the subject required, rushed forward to lend him aid.” (Suet. Nero, 21)

Can you imagine that?

One moment you’re watching Nero sing off-key in a Hercules costume. Then somebody dashes across the amphitheater. Is it an assassin? Another actor? No. It's a soldier. He's onstage now. He’s sprinting toward the Emperor. He’s offering him a hand, shouting, “Don’t worry, sir, I’ll save you! Have a seat while I sort out the plot.”
Poor kid. Seems he couldn't bear seeing Nero in trouble--even if it was just make-believe. Or perhaps he was so moved by the Emperor's plight that he forgot it was pretend. Either way, he must have been embarrassed afterward. I just hope he didn't get in trouble.

Another short story can be found on an Ancient Greek grave inscription. This time, as an added bonus, the characters are given names: meet Mikkos, a wet nurse, and Aischre, her charge.

Mikkos looked after Phyrgian Aischre all her life, even in old age. When she died he set up this monument for future generations to see. Thus the old woman departed from this life, having received due recompense for her breasts.

Did you catch the mock-heroic tone? Says a lot about their relationship. I imagine there was a lot of sarcastic give-and-take. What makes this story even more remarkable is that wet nurses were often slaves, and while we can’t be certain that Mikkos was one, it’s a possibility.

I've taken a lot of creative license in this article. There's no way of knowing what these people were like--but that's one of the reasons I love these short stories so much. There's room for the imagination. Our minds begin to fill in the blanks. We find ourselves sympathizing with people from vastly different cultures, who died hundreds of years ago. For me, at least, these stories bring the dead back to life.

But enough about what I think. What do you think?
What were Mikkos and Aischre like? Why did the recruit care so much about Nero?

Greek funerary stele