"Who knows what women talk about when there aren't any men around?" said Manlius.

"Who cares?" said Canininus. "Now that Caesar's about to give Pompey a good thrashing…"

And with that, the conversation turned away from the madwoman, for now, at last, there was the fresh news of Caesar's crossing to give us men something to talk about.

Later that day, at the evening meal, I happened to mention the incident of the madwoman. The family was gathered in the dining room. Shutters were drawn to keep out the cold air from the garden at the center of the house, and a brazier had been lit to heat the room. Bethesda and I shared a couch. Davus and Diana shared the one to our left. Hieronymus reclined alone on the couch to our right.

"Yes, yes, the woman called Cassandra," said Bethesda, putting down her bowl of chick pea soup and nodding. This was before her malady set in, when her appetite was still strong. The soup smelled strongly of black pepper. "I've seen her down in the marketplace."

"Have you? How long has she been about?"

Bethesda shrugged. "Not long. Perhaps a month."

"Have you seen her experience one of these fits?"

"Oh, yes. A bit unnerving the first time you see it. After it passes, she doesn't seem to know what's happened. She gradually comes to her senses and carries on with whatever she was doing before. Begging for alms, usually."

"No one helps her?"

"What's to be done? Some people are frightened by her and move away. Others want to hear what she says and move closer. They say she utters prophecies when she's like that, but I can't make sense of the noises she makes."

"Why didn't you ever mention her to me?"

"What possible interest could you have in such a wretched woman, Husband?" asked Bethesda, lifting her bowl of soup to take another sip.