My uncle, conveyed by this favourable breeze, embraced his trembling friend, consoled him, jollied him along and, so as to relieve his fear through his own confidence, asked to be taken to the baths. After washing he lay down and dined; either he was content, or he showed a semblance of contentment, which was just as great-hearted. Meanwhile flames shot out all over from Mount Vesuvius and glowed bright and lit up the night sky, their blazing brightness illuminated by the shadows of darkness. To soothe their fears my uncle kept telling them that these were merely the bonfires of peasants, abandoned through terror, and empty houses on fire. Then he went to rest and fell into a deep sleep. For the motion of his breath, which was rather heavy and noisy on account of the portliness of his body, could be heard by those who were keeping watch outside his doorway. And the terrace which led out from his room was now filled with ash mixed with pumice so the ground level was raised; if he had lingered in his bedchamber any longer he would not have been able to escape.

Awakened, he made his way out and reconvened with Pomponianus and the others who had stayed up. They deliberated together over whether to stay inside or venture out into the open. For the buildings were shaking due to frequent and violent earthquakes and seemed almost to be moving from their foundations, shunted this way and then that. On the other hand, there was the fear of the pumice fall, even though it was light and porous; they opted for this as the lesser of the dangers. For my uncle, reason prevailed, but for the others, fear. They put pillows on their heads and tied them in place with pieces of cloth: this was their protection against the falling debris.

Now, elsewhere, it was daylight, but here it was still night but blacker and denser than all the nights there have ever been. But they tried to overcome it with a number of torches and various lamps. My uncle decided to go down to the shore to see close-up whether they might now escape by sea; the swell was still against them. Lying down there on a cloth, he asked again and again for cold water and drank. Then flames and the smell of sulphur that suggested there were more flames to come put the others to flight but roused him. Leaning on two slaves for support he stood up but at once fell, I imagine because his breathing was impeded by the thick smog and his windpipe – which was habitually weak and narrowed and often inflamed – was blocked. When daylight returned (this was on the third day from the last one he’d seen) his body was found – intact and unharmed and clothed as he had been: he looked more asleep than dead.