Caesar (30 page)

Cassius called us to order. He spoke briefly. His bearing was martial, his tone firm. He outlined the cogent reasons which had brought us together. He deplored the decadence of public spirit which had reduced the Republic to its sad condition.

"If Caesar's system of government were to be confirmed, then all that we know and love in Rome would wither, all that our fathers fought and died for would be no more, as, little by little, step by remorseless step, Rome will sink from view under the weight of an Oriental despotism. Our ancestors - the immediate ancestors of some here present - won the right to call no man 'King', no man 'Lord and Master'. We are called to act if we are not to be despised and hated by our descendants as the generation which, through apathy or cowardice, lost that right, and so condemned the Roman nobility to perpetual ignominy and subservience . . .

"If any man would dispute what I say, I shall not argue with him, but ask him to leave us now."

No one moved, though young Cato trembled and looked as if he might be sick at any moment.

Metellus Cimber got to his feet.

"You have spoken for all of us, Cassius, and we are all of your mind."

There was a murmur of assent.

"Nevertheless," Cimber said - and my father-in-law frowned at the word - "nevertheless, I would like to urge yet again what I have urged before: that we invite Cicero to be one of us. I have two reasons which I would ask you all to consider carefully."

He coughed. Markie, I remember, was looking at him, with his mouth hanging open, a sign, known to me from childhood, that he was concentrating hard.

"In the first place," Cimber said, "Cicero's grey hairs will serve to make our cause appear absolutely respectable. It will help to convince the waverers, for they will say that if a man of Cicero's experience, virtue and reputation has associated himself with us, then our deed must be justified. If we neglect to secure his support, then people will wonder why he is not with us, and probably condemn us as rash young men whom the good sense of Cicero has spurned."

"Scarcely young, Cimber," I said. "Few of us can be called young, and most of us, you yourself of course too, have a great deal of military experience, and great exploits to our names. I doubt whether anyone could dismiss us in the way you suggest."

"Well," Cimber said. "That is only my first point, and with respect to Decimus Brutus, I stick to it. My second is even more compelling, in my opinion. When the deed is done, we are going to have to justify it in the Senate and from the rostra. Can any doubt that Cicero is of all men the most fitted to argue our case?"

This was a valid point, and I said so.

"All the same," I added, "I think your anxiety exaggerated. I have no doubt that we shall be able to win Cicero's support, even his wholehearted support, when the moment of danger is past, and when words rather than deeds are required. So, I propose that we acknowledge the justice of much that Metellus Cimber has said, and then agree to approach Cicero when the time is ripe. I suspect this is what he himself would prefer. He is after all an old man, and has never been conspicuous for courage."

Markie coughed.

"There's no point inviting Cicero to join us," he said. "He would certainly refuse. He will never follow any course which others have set. You know his conceit and vanity."

I knew Markie's jealousy and I guessed that he was afraid that Cicero would outshine him, taking the primacy in our affair, by reason of his talents and reputation; and of course Cassius had promised that primacy to Markie himself in order to lure him on.

Cassius nodded to me, inviting me to speak, as we had arranged he should.

"I have a question to put to you. It is a grave question which needs careful consideration. Shall no man be touched except Caesar?"

Casca said: "Antony and Lepidus. You're referring to our virtuous consul and the Master of the Horse?"

"Chiefly, yes
...
we must secure our position."

"We would be mad not to," Casca said.

"It is indeed a point." Cassius spoke in a considering manner, as if his mind was not already determined. "Antony is loyal to Caesar. Various of us have sounded him out, carefully, and met with no satisfactory response. If he outlives Caesar, are we not likely to find our position endangered? As for Lepidus, he may not amount to much, but he has command of the only troops stationed near the city."

The meeting fell silent. People turned and whispered to their neighbours. Some were clearly agitated, not having anticipated such a proposal. Others nodded their heads in agreement, but none dared to be the first to speak out in approval.

"No, no, no." It was Markie, of course. "No, we are not butchers, Cassius. Think of the horror with which we regard Marius and Sulla and the proscriptions they so shamefully carried out. We are not butchers, I say that again. We are, as it were, priests of the Republic. Caesar's death will be a sort of sacrifice. A necessary sacrifice. I wish it was not necessary. I have, as you know, brooded long on the matter. I am not one to rush to judgment. But I am now convinced. However, if, my friends, you intend to extend the list of victims beyond that single name of Caesar, then I can have no part in your enterprise. I shall withdraw. Kill Caesar alone, and our motive will be recognised for what it is: an act of necessary virtue. Kill Caesar's friends, and it will seem as if we are no more than common cut-throats, bandits, murderers. That will be to invite a renewal of civil war. After the deed, let us practise clemency, and seek reconciliation with Caesar's friends. I repeat: either Caesar alone, or Marcus Brutus can have no hand in the business."

Casca groaned, but Markie carried the meeting. My second proposal, that I should alert the Ninth Legion, and summon them to Rome, ready to subdue any subsequent disorder, was alike defeated by Markie's argument.

"That," he said, "would give the wrong message. This is not a military coup, but, as I have said, an act of sacrifice. I cannot therefore consent, and unless I can freely and of my best judgment consent to any proposal then I cannot in honour be party to the deed. Besides, I am certain that you are too pessimistic, Decimus. There will be no subsequent trouble, for all good men will regard us with favour, and applaud our deed. We shall not be seen as villains, but as heroes who have restored liberty to Rome."

So, it was, ill-advisedly, decided. Only Caesar should die. Then all would be sweetness and light.

The Ides of March, the Theatre of Pompey, then a general acclamation of the Liberators.

Having at last allowed himself to be convinced, it seemed that Markie had cast aside all doubt.

Cassius saw the reason of my arguments, but he supported Markie's rejection of them, because he valued his participation more highly than he valued reason.

Chapter 21

O
n the eve of the Ides of March, Lepidus invited me to dine.
I hesidated to accept

This was natural. I had after all
recommended that he should suffer with Caesar. At the very least, I had argued, subsequent to our formal conclave, that he and Antony should be arrested. This modest proposal Cassius had also declined to entertain (even though his own judgment approved it) because he feared it would give Markie reason to withdraw from our enterprise. I recognised Cassius' weakness in this decision. For all his merits, and great strength of will, without which nothing would have been done, for he was truly the fount and origin of the business, he suffered from a defect which was the obverse of his singular qualities. He readily fell victim to what
1
can only call monomania; once he had an idea fixed in his mind, nothing
could persuade him to alter
it. That fixed idea was the necessity of Markie's participation. There was nothing I could do to shift it. Accordingly, of necessity, I acquiesced.

Nevertheless I was conscious that there was a certain delicacy involved in accepting Lepidus' invitation. Moreover, I would have liked to compose myself for our great action in silence and privacy. Yet there were cogent reasons to accept. For one thing I couldn't tell what doubts and fears my absence might not give rise to.

I was dismayed all the same to discover that Caesar was of the party. So was Trebonius. His presence alarmed me for I knew him to be nervous, and therefore feared that his manner might arouse suspicion. Metellus Cimber was there also, and this displeased Caesar, for he knew that Cimber was anxious that the decree of banishment which his brother had suffered, should be rescinded. He frowned on greeting Cimber, warning him by his manner that the moment was not propitious to raise his brother's case. Seeing this, I took Cimber by the sleeve, and warned him to keep silent. I reminded him also in an urgent whisper that he and his brother had a vital role to play the next morning.

"Very well," he said, "but it offends me to see the dictator so debonair and think of the injustice done to my poor brother, and to recall the indignity he has suffered and the hardships he now endures."

"Let all go well," I said, "and he will soon be restored to you."

Lepidus called us to supper. If I had not known him well, I would have read anxiety in his manner. But Lepidus was always fussy as an old hen. It was strange. Many women were said to judge him the handsomest man in Rome, and certainly in repose he would have made an admirable model for a statue representing heroic virtue; but then he rarely was in repose. Now his fussing irritated Caesar, accustomed though he was to Lepidus' manner.

At last, he broke out:

"Let us be, Lepidus. Your dinner will not be spoiled if we delay a moment before attending it. In any case," he said to me, speaking more quietly, so as not to give offence to our host, "a dinner's but a dinner. I can't be troubled with these fellows who treat it as some sort of sacred rite."

This was true. Caesar was indifferent to what he ate and drank. I had often heard him mock his two former colleagues, Crassus and Pompey, for the care they took for their stomachs.

"I am in this respect a Greek," Caesar would say. "I come to table for conversation rather than food. As far as eating goes I am as happy with a hunk of bread and cheese, as with the elaborate fare these fellows insist on."

By unspoken agreement we avoided politics and war that evening, though Lepidus tactlessly tried to introduce the question of the Parthian campaign. Caesar himself swept that aside.

"If you seek enlightenment on that matter, Lepidus, call on me in office hours
..."

He turned to me and enquired as to Longina's state of health.

"I am told you have sent her to the country. I trust that doesn't indicate that there is some trouble."

"No," I said, "the air in Rome, you know. And then I think it is easier to get good milk in the country, and that is something for which she has developed a taste in her condition."

He snapped his fingers, to summon a secretary whom he kept always near him, and who, on this occasion, was perched on a stool in a little passage leading to an antechamber.

"Make a note, will you," Caesar said, "that I wish to have a report compiled concerning the quality of the milk sold in the city. It should also tell me the conditions in which cows are kept, the time that elapses before milk is offered for sale to the public, and whether new regulations are needed to control the trade. For instance, whether we should impose a limit on the number of cows kept within a space of a certain size. Oh, and anything else that is thought appropriate. I should like a preliminary report seven days from now, and the project to be completed by the end of the month. I have no doubt that we shall find several reforms called for."

He turned back to me.

"Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention, Mouse. I grow ever more convinced that the secret of successful administration lies in the realisation that ordinary people suffer most from what might seem tiny unimportant matters to such as us, but which in their condition prove irksome. The quality of milk will matter more to a young woman of the poorer classes than the question of whether your father-in-law should be consul in forty-two, as he wishes, or will have to wait till the next year."

Talk at the table had moved on to questions of philosophy while Caesar concerned himself with the city's milk supplies. Someone - I forget who now - was discoursing on Platonism and the Theory of Ideas. He was speaking approvingly. Metellus Cimber repudiated the notion.

"I'm a plain man and a soldier, and I have no time for this farrago. I assure you, it's no good arguing in the middle of a battle that the spear which is being thrust at your belly is only a shadowy representation of the idea of the true spear. No use at all. It's all mystical Greek nonsense and any Roman should be ashamed of spouting it."

"That's rather too strong, Cimber," I said. "I'm at one with you about the spear, of course. Nevertheless, there's a certain charm in Plato's thought, and when you consider abstract nouns - justice, of course, even love - you have to admit that there is some force in the suggestion that our experience of these is always imperfect."