Read Marcus Aurelius Betrayed Online
Authors: Alan Scribner
“Are you able to understand a technical book on astronomy like this one?” he asked doubtfully, displaying a scroll full of geometry and mathematical calculations.
“Possibly,” answered Severus without hesitation. “When I was a student in Athens I didn’t study only with Stoics and Epicureans, but also with an eminent Platonist. And we all know the famous motto Plato had inscribed on the façade of the old Academy – ‘let no one enter who does not know geometry.’ Even though that building doesn’t exist anymore, many Platonists, including my professor, still insist on geometry as a requirement. So I studied it and was good at it and still study it in my spare time. I can certainly understand something of that book, though I would have to study it.”
“So you got some real benefit from your studies in Athens,” replied Leonidas, somewhat mollified.
“And not just in the field of astronomy,” added Severus, “but personally too. My wife is the daughter of that professor of Platonism.”
“Let me show you our astronomical instruments first.” Leonidas took Severus up to the roof where were set up a variety of astronomical devices for observing and measuring the heavens. There was a large gnomon or sun dial to measure time. Then there was an astrolabe, for measuring positions of the Sun, Moon, stars and planets and for making calculations. There was also an armillary sphere, a sort of spherical astrolabe consisting of a spherical framework of rings, centered on the Earth, that represented celestial longitude and latitude. Then he was shown a large diopter, which was a long rod with an occlusion device and a sliding scale for focusing on astronomical bodies. Severus mentioned that he himself had a small personal diopter he used on some nights for his own observations of the sky. There was also a
scaphe
, a new type of sun dial invented by Aristarchus with a pointer on the inside of a hemisphere marked off with angles and an equatorial ring for measuring equinox points when the shadow of sun fell on the ring itself. There were several public
scaphe
rings in Alexandria, including a large one in a major square, but this one at the Museum was the finest.
After the interesting tour of the instruments, Severus was invited to join a few members of the astronomy department for lunch in the Museum’s eating hall. There he got to discuss astronomical subjects with the experts. He was introduced to one astronomer from Carthage, another dressed in oriental garb from Babylon, and a third,
who he was told was a young genius in mathematical astronomy, Timon of Ephesus. Timon was thin and gaunt, dressed in a plain brown tunic with food stains and had an unkempt appearance. He immediately lapsed into some sort of reverie while everyone else started eating the plentiful and excellent stuffed grape leaves, olives and fish cakes. Chilled white wine was placed on the table to drink.
The discussion turned to unsolved questions in astronomy about which there was much disagreement. Questions like does the Earth stand still and the Heavens move or the Heavens stand still and the Earth move? Is the Universe finite or infinite? What were the nature of the planets and stars? How far away were they? Were the heavenly bodies inhabited? Which is the most distant planet?
“That one can be answered with confidence,” piped up Timon in a soft voice, suddenly coming out of his reverie. “Saturn is the furthest away. We know that because it takes Saturn the longest to get back to any fixed position in the sky. For instance, if you look at Mars tonight, you will see it in the constellation Leo the Lion, near the star Regulus. Other nights throughout the year it will have moved and will appear in other constellations. But it will be back in Leo near Regulus in about two years. Jupiter will reappear in any particular location again after 15 years, but Saturn takes 30 years to get back to the same place in a particular constellation. The conclusion is clear. The circuit of Saturn is longest because it is furthest away from Earth. And Jupiter is further away than Mars, but closer than Saturn.”
And so the discussions continued throughout the lunch between Severus, who was knowledgeable and
could ask interesting questions, make relevant comments and express intelligent opinions and the Museum astronomers who were even more knowledgeable. They contributed to Severus’ stimulation and enlightenment.
Towards the end of the luncheon the subject of Roman astronomers came up and Severus offered the story of Gaius Sulpicius Gallus. Gallus had been a military Tribune with the legions before the battle of Pydna against the Macedonians 300 years before. “Gallus was not only an officer but an astronomer and he asked to address the troops before the battle, because as an astronomer he knew there would be an eclipse of the Moon the following night between the 2
nd
and the 4
th
hour. So he explained to the soldiers what was going to happen, telling them it was just a natural phenomenon, predictable and no more ominous than the Sun rising and setting or the phases of the Moon.
“When the eclipse occurred, the Roman soldiers were ready for it and thought Gallus possessed great wisdom. The Macedonian king and his soldiers, however, were spooked and demoralized and thought it was an omen of the fall of their kingdom. Their soothsayers were equally confounded and they lost the battle.
“Later, in retirement, Gallus spent his time charting and measuring the Heavens. ‘How often the rising Sun surprised him at his work at night’, reports Cicero, ‘how often the night came upon him when working on his charts during the day’.”
The astronomers all smiled in appreciation of the story of a fellow astronomer. But in fact they had all heard it before, and from practically every Roman visitor to the astronomy department. Still, polite indulgence was the appropriate response.
After lunch Severus was shown an exhibit of mechanical and pneumatic novelties by one of the Museum’s greatest inventors – Heron of Alexandria. Many of them seemed quaint, like a contraption that turned rapidly on the power of steam or another that made use of a wind wheel to operate a musical organ. There were also a variety of coin operated devices. One dispensed water when a coin was inserted into a slot, dropped onto an pan inside which tilted and opened a valve letting out water until the coin fell off the pan, closing the valve and shutting off the water. There was also a mechanical force pump invented by Heron that was already in use in the city of Rome and elsewhere for pumping water to put out fires.
Later that night, Severus was invited to join an observation session on the roof, tracking and observing the planet Mars and various stars. He felt at the same time the satisfaction of an accomplished astronomer and the awe of a little child.
When he left the Museum, he also felt he had one of the best and most memorable days of his life.
XVI
ALEXANDER DEVISES A PLAN TO FIND THE MISSING BOOKS
A
lexander had devised a clever plan to trace the books missing from the Great Library. He told it to Judge Severus before the court hearing on Secundus’ indictment. They were in temporary chambers attached to one of the Hadrianum’s courtrooms, where Severus, Flaccus and Proculus were doing some last minute paperwork on the charge sheet and the accompanying legal documents.
“It’s quite simple, really,” said Alexander. “I think we should buy the books back.”
Severus looked at him with a quizzical smile. “It’s a good idea, Alexander, but just how are you going to find the person who now has the books in order to buy it from him?”
“That’s my idea. I think we should induce him to find us.”
Flaccus and Proculus stopped their joint proof reading of a document and came over when they heard the gist of Alexander’s remarks.
“Whatever would make him come to us?” asked Flaccus.
“Money,” replied Alexander. “Lots of it. I think we should offer the best price for the books.”
“Perhaps you have something there,” remarked Severus. “We could use a front man working for us, perhaps a book dealer would be willing to help. He could spread the word around the bookshops that he’s interested and willing to pay a huge price. It might reach the right ears.”
“It would sound suspicious,” ventured Flaccus. “The thief might suspect a trap.”
“Not if we did it right,” interjected Alexander quickly.
“I see Alexander has something more in mind,” commented Severus. “What’s your idea?”
Alexander pulled out a sheet of papyrus with the names of the four stolen books, the Callimachus book of poetry, the first volume of an early edition of Homer’s
Iliad
, the philosophic work by Lycon of Tarentum and the Hebrew book,
The Wisdom of Ben Sira
. He pointed at the last one on the list.
“Anyone might be interested in the first three, but the last one is mostly valuable to Jews. What I propose is that we find someone in Alexandria’s Jewish community to buy it back for us. Then the thief wouldn’t be suspicious of the purchaser or the price. He would head straight for it.”
Severus started to smile. “Who do you have in mind?”
“I thought,” Alexander answered nonchalantly, “we might try the scholar who was translating the book into Greek for the Great Library. His name, I found out, is Manassah ben Jacob and he lives in the Delta section of the city, near the Sun Gate.”
Severus eyed his secretary narrowly. “Have you already spoken to him?”
Alexander nodded in a positive gesture. “I took the liberty of sounding him out yesterday.”
“What did he say?”
“He was eager to do it. He says the book is a treasure for the Jewish community in Alexandria. He would be glad to cooperate in any attempt to buy it back. He said he could spread the word through the book dealers that the Jews know the book has been stolen and they want it back. They would pay a good price, with no questions asked. He wanted only to talk to the Ethnarch of the Jews in Alexandria before committing himself, but he was sure the Ethnarch would agree.
“I told him that I could supply the money, as well as surveillance and protection for him. I said we wanted the thief. The Library would get the book back. I also told him that I would have to consult with someone before I could finally authorize it.”
“How much does he think we’ll have to offer to buy it back?”
“Perhaps 2,000 sesterces. Manassah says that would be a very good price.”
“It may already be sold,” cautioned Severus.
“We know. But Manassah doubts it. Who would buy it but Jews and he hasn’t heard of it being bought. So he thinks it’s worth trying.”
Severus turned to his clerk. “How much is our draft on the provincial treasury good for?”
“A lot more than that,” answered Proculus.
Severus headed for the door to the courtroom. “Tell him to offer 5,000.”
XVII
SECUNDUS IS GRANTED BAIL AND FOLLOWED
T
he court hearing was brief. The defendant Secundus was ushered in and informed of the charges against him. His lawyer was handed a copy of the charge sheet accusing Secundus of judicial murder under the
Lex Cornelia
. Then the lawyer made an application for bail, arguing that there were sureties waiting to put up the money and his client hadn’t confessed. Judge Severus set a moderate amount for bail and scheduled a trial date in ten days. Secundus’ face bore a sullen impenetrable mask throughout the proceedings.
When it was over, the judge returned to his chambers and Secundus returned to his apartment. A half-hour later Vulso reported to the judge that Secundus had packed a bag and left the Hadrianum.
“Where do you think he’ll go?” asked Severus idly.
“I don’t know. But wherever he goes, he’ll be followed closely. I have a squad of marines from the
Argo
assigned to him. He’ll be covered like a blanket,” concluded the Centurion with a grin.
It wasn’t long before the first messenger from the surveillance team arrived. Secundus had taken a litter from the Hadrianum to a square near the Moon Gate. From there he walked two streets to a two-story apartment building and entered it. A short while later he emerged with two men, one a young man of decidedly foppish appearance and the other apparently the slave of the first. They had gone into a grocery and bought a large amount of food and carried it back to the apartment. Discreet inquiry in the neighborhood had ascertained that the young man was a Greek named Cupid and the other was Eumolpus, Cupid’s slave. Secundus, the report concluded, appeared to have shacked up with a male lover.
“Have Cupid followed also,” was the judge’s reaction. “And if all three leave together again, sneak in and search the apartment.”
Severus and Artemisia decided to take a walk that evening after dinner and enjoy the street scenes of Alexandria. Vulso accompanied them, for the judge had decided to walk in the direction of the apartment house where Secundus was ensconced. He would just check on the surveillance and walk back to the Hadrianum before dark. Both the judge and his wife were dressed in light summer evening tunics of Greek style.
By the time they left, the streets weren’t crowded since most people were home having dinner, Greeks traditionally eating later than Romans. The smells of food cooking on countless apartment house braziers wafted out into the cool air, joining the aromas from taverns, restaurants and cookshops which were all crowded. Frying fish and freshly baked bread delighted the air.
Most of the stores were still open. There were a few fancy processions of wealthy people in litters on their way to dinner parties. Small crowds gathered here and there around a street poet or auctioneer. Severus and Artemisia stopped for a while to listen to a street musician play a beautifully mysterious oriental melody on an Egyptian harp. He told them the melody was his own composition and they asked him to play it again, which he did. They gave him a silver coin when he finished and ambled on.
Artemisia inspected a few stores on a street of leather merchants and they stopped into a shop selling inlaid Egyptian wood boxes. The boxes were so beautiful, the workmanship so admirable and the price so reasonable that Artemisia bought several for presents to take back home. One had a geometric design in ebony and ivory, another an inlaid winged Sun, surrounded by an Egyptian border pattern of little squares of red, yellow, blue and green, repeated around the central design.