THE KING DISAPPEARS
As the years passed, the city of Rome became ever larger and more
powerful. The king, too, grew haughty, and as his greatness increased,
careless of the welfare of his people. His subjects, who had formerly
loved Romulus, now began to hate him, so insolent seemed to them his
behaviour.
Dressed in a scarlet robe, the king spent his days lying on a couch,
while young lads, called Celeres, waited upon him. This name was
bestowed upon them because of the swiftness with which they sped to do
the king’s behests.
Nor was this all, but when Romulus at times roused himself to walk
through the streets of the city, the Celeres went before him, bearing
staves. These they used, to thrust aside any of the common people who
dared to disturb the king by their presence.
The staves angered the people, but even more did they resent the
leather thongs which the Celeres wore, for these were used to bind and
take prisoner whoever displeased the king.
After he had reigned forty years a strange thing happened.
Romulus ordered the people to assemble on the Field of Mars, which
reached from the city to the river Tiber, for here a festival was to
be held. But when the king and his subjects met, a terrible storm
arose. Dark and yet darker grew the sky, while fierce gusts of wind,
blowing now in one direction, now in another, confused the terrified
crowd. Flashes of lighting gleamed across the faces of the throng,
then darkness, more dense, fell across the field, hiding each from the
other. Thunder rolled until the earth seemed to shake at the sound.
In terror and distraught with fear, the crowd fled to their homes,
lashed by a ceaseless torrent of rain.
And the king? When the storm was over the king was nowhere to be found.
He had disappeared, and was seen no more on earth in human form.
‘His enemies have slain him,’ said some among the people. But others
thought that the god Mars had carried the king to heaven in a chariot.
Proculus, a friend of Romulus, told the people a story, which made them
believe that their king had himself become a god.
One day, as Proculus was walking from Alba to Rome, Romulus stood
before him, clad in shining armour.
His friend was afraid when he saw the king, so tall and comely had he
become, and he cried: ‘Why, O King, have you abandoned us, and left the
whole city to bereavement and endless sorrow?’
Proculus did not seem to know that Romulus had lost the love of his
people many years before.
The figure in shining armour answered his friend in these wise words:
‘It pleased the gods, O Proculus, that we, who came from them, should
remain so long a time amongst men as we did, and having built a city to
be the greatest in the world for empire and glory, should again return
to heaven.
‘Farewell, and tell the Romans that by the exercise of temperance and
fortitude they shall attain the height of human power. We will be to
you from henceforth the god Quirinus.’
The Romans listened eagerly to Proculus, and when his story ended, they
determined to build a temple on the Quirinal hill in honour of their
new god.
And each year, on the 17th February, the day that Romulus had been
taken from their sight, the Romans held a festival in honour of
Quirinus, calling it the Quirinalia.