The Blood of the Martyrs (38 page)

‘No doubt,' said Balbus. ‘But most of those were the new men, the speculators. Our own forefathers had standards of decency and honour unconnected with money.'

‘Had they?' Scaevinus said. ‘None of us were exactly born in poverty! The money was there Balbus, however it managed to occur to those good forefathers of ours. But now let's take it a stage farther. Some of this suddenly increased amount of money had been used on these large scale
slave factories and slave farms; and at the same time had created an entire race of enemies inside civilisation, hoping to wreck it if they ever got the chance. What with these enemies we imported in chain gangs by the hundred, and the money enemies, each trying to serve his own interests and down his rivals, there was a pretty mess! Enough to pull the State apart, to crack it up completely. Gentlemen, that nearly happened. Several times. Between the end of the Punic Wars and the end of the Republic. In the great years.'

‘There might have been a better State built in its place,' Crispus answered rather wistfully.

‘Fairer? More equal? Simpler and kinder? All that? The Gracchi had something of the sort in mind, Tiberius, anyhow—Gaius was out for revenge mostly—but they were too early. And then came the revolts from the race of enemies: Spartacus, for instance. Why didn't Spartacus win when the whole trend of things was in his favour? Why didn't his revolt smash up the State completely when it was already cracking? How it looks to me, gentlemen, is that the State suddenly changed its nature, not in the way that Tiberius Gracchus would have changed it, when he wanted all the citizens to go back to small holdings and large families, but into a new form of the old money-making thing. Quite possibly that was the only way to save it. It was organised so that the money-makers shouldn't quarrel with one another and shouldn't use their money power to make civil war with. Now, the only way to do that was to subordinate them to the State. And that's where we are now. What do you think, gentlemen?'

‘But must the State that's to keep order have a human head—a tyrant?' asked Balbus.

‘I think so, men being what they are. We cannot escape from causality. And then the head gets drunk on power—thinks the power belongs to him, not to the State. And then—'

‘Yes. That's where we are now. Pity you can't have a performing animal instead of Agrippina's son. A genuine wolf dressed in the purple!' Balbus laughed abruptly. ‘But you're making out, Scaevinus, that the only alternative to something of the kind is chaos; splitting the State.'

‘Exactly. So we have to keep the same kind of thing—modified. Not attempt any Utopias. I take it we've all been brought up on the fairy-tales—Plato and Iambulus and so on? They're usually included in any philosophical education!'

‘Of course,' answered Crispus, ‘but one didn't take them seriously.' And suddenly he thought that perhaps Beric
did
take them seriously … because he was a barbarian … because he didn't have any money power …

But Scaevinus went on: ‘We
couldn't
take them seriously. Not now that we've come to depend on this excessively complex money system. When Tiberius Gracchus talked his kind of Agrarian equality it wasn't, perhaps, quite impossible; even a Senator still depended in the main on land which he farmed himself—more or less. But now we don't know one end of a plough from the other!'

‘No, indeed!'

‘Funny about the Gracchi. You might have gone back to some kind of equality and simplicity then, but people didn't want it enough to make a revolution. But when things have got to the stage when enough people
do
want a revolution, equality and all that's out of the question. Which shows why we don't have revolutions, gentlemen.'

‘Yes. We don't want it, and the ones who do haven't got any power at all. Fortunate, that.'

But Crispus was still thinking about Beric, and what happened if one took philosophy seriously. If one let it influence one. As one might if one wasn't taking power seriously—not having it.

Flavius Scaevinus was definite about what was to be done. If the right precautions were taken the danger was negligible: at any rate as compared with the danger which all decent people ran now. The other two both wondered whether he had heard about Flavia; it was an open enough scandal … But Candidus was the one who ought to act. And he would not do so and had asked his father not to. However, it was agreed upon that Nero's friends could not be allowed to survive him. Gallio, on payment of a large fine, was to be released in a few days; that was a relief at any rate. None of
them discussed this evening's popular entertainment; they were out of sight and sound of it and such things had better be left unmentioned.

The two guests rose to go and Crispus clapped his hands to bring the slaves back. Mikkos was sent running to fetch Balbus's litter. Lamprion and Pistos brought the cloaks; the Spaniard and Phaon hung about helpfully. Argas and Sannio were the last to come in; Crispus frowned at them and noticed that they both looked rather upset and untidy. Why? He hadn't yet replaced Manasses; in these times one deprecated unnecessary expenditure.

After goodbyes had been said and suitable gods invoked for a return visit, the slaves pulled the curtains aside and ushered out the guests to the entrance hall where their own torch-bearers were waiting for them. But Argas and Sannio stayed and glanced at one another, then at their master. ‘What the devil are you hanging about here for?' he said, ‘go and see to my guests!'

‘Sir—' said Argas.

‘And you have a spot of grease on your tunic, Argas—a large spot. You are disgustingly careless!'

But Argas went on his knees. ‘I've bad news for you, sir. Beric has been arrested.'

Flavius Crispus's hand jerked up to heart level; he felt sick. ‘Is it—in connection with—this Christianity?' If it was, he thought, and steadied himself with the resolve, he would kill Argas. And any of the others he suspected.

‘No, sir,' said Argas, ‘it was for trying to kill Tigellinus.'

So that was it. The gallant boy. For Flavia. ‘But he didn't—manage it?'

‘Sir, Persis is here; she's run with the news. Will you see her?'

He nodded. Sannio dashed out and came back with Persis, white and panting a little still, her hair slipping down at one side. She too threw herself at his feet. ‘Tell me as quickly as you can, child,' he said.

‘He came when my master was out and Tigellinus was with
her
,' Persis said. ‘He asked for me and after a little I let him in, God forgive me.'

‘Why did you let him in?'

‘To kill Tigellinus,' said Persis simply. ‘He made me think it was right to do it. And then my mistress saw him and screamed, and he and Tigellinus fought, and my mistress helped Tigellinus. Beric was winning and then—then my mistress tripped him—'

‘Go on,' said Crispus, very low.

‘And then the slaves ran in and they all got him down, and Tigellinus stamped on his face, and then Tigellinus said to my mistress, he was your lover you little devil—oh, I'm sorry, sir—'

‘Go on,' said Crispus again, stonily.

‘So she said, no, he's a Christian, he killed one of your agents, he told me so—'

‘But
had
he?' Crispus asked.

‘Yes, sir, that was true.'

‘My God. How do you know?'

‘He told me too, sir. He was wrong to do it. And, oh, I oughtn't ever to have let him in—it was my sin!'

‘He was perfectly right to try and kill Tigellinus,' said Crispus fiercely. ‘Go on.'

‘Then sir, they pulled him onto his feet and he was bleeding—he had a tooth knocked loose and he spat it out and said he wasn't a Christian, oh, he swore it! But she said he was and Tigellinus said it was another Christian conspiracy, and he would arrest all Christians he could lay hands on, and she said there are some in father's household who were arrested before, and he said yes, I'll get them all, and she said my maid was one of them—I think she was frightened sir, he did look awful!—and then I ran.'

‘Where were you, child?'

‘I was hiding behind the bed curtains, sir, but I crawled out and got into the bathroom and jumped through the window.'

‘Why did you come to my house if there are going to be arrests here?'

‘To warn the others, sir. The Guards won't be here for an hour, sir.'

‘Are you a Christian, Persis?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘I see. And you, Argas?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘In spite of my orders. And you, Sannio?'

‘No, sir, but they're not what we're told, sir, they're decent, sir—'

‘Hold your tongue, Sannio. I can make my own deductions about them. Argas. I was aware that Beric had been—involved. Now—it is exceedingly unlikely that I can save him.' His voice shook and faded out; Sannio quickly filled a wine cup and handed it to him.

‘I know,' said Argas. ‘I loved him.'

‘You—and others—will be arrested. I am afraid you have very little chance. I shall, of course, say that you are not Christians.'

‘Don't do that, sir,' Argas said. ‘I'm not going to deny it. And if Beric dies I want to die.'

Crispus reached his hand out waveringly; Argas took it in his. ‘Boy,' he said. ‘Beric was like my son to me. I ought to have got him away from this.'

‘You couldn't have, sir. He wasn't to hold nor to bind when he thought he knew what was right.' He hesitated: he was still holding Crispus's hand in his. ‘You aren't angry with me now—are you, sir?'

‘No, Argas. Only—I'm your master. I've tried to do what was best for you and for everyone. I appear to have failed.'

‘It was stronger than you, sir. Stronger than anything you could do. Have we put you into danger through this, sir?'

‘I don't think so. Beric may have. It doesn't matter. You will almost certainly be condemned.'

‘I know. I suppose there'll be a general house arrest sir, all of us that they think may give evidence, and the Christians will be kept and killed?'

‘Yes,' said Crispus. He looked at the three slaves; Sannio was kneeling too now. ‘My poor children!'

Argas said, ‘Sir, can you any way save Phaon? If you could—it's what Beric would want. Maybe it's the only thing you can do for him.'

‘Why exactly, do you ask me to save Phaon? Tell me, Argas. Tell me the truth.'

Argas let go the hand; he didn't know what to say to his master. It was Persis who answered, ‘He's the best of us, sir!'

‘The best—Christian?'

‘Yes, sir,' said Persis. ‘He'd keep it alive. After we're dead.'

‘Is that true, Argas?'

‘It's true.'

‘And you ask me to save
him
. To make your thing stronger. To help it against the State.'

‘I ask you for Beric,' Argas said.

‘Damn,' said Crispus, and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Then: ‘If I do this I am involved. Myself. Do you see, Argas? No, why should you see … I thought Phaon at least would be cured of this and now you say he's the one that will carry on! I can't deliberately encourage Christianity!'

‘It wouldn't exactly be that, sir—' Argas said.

‘Wouldn't it? Wouldn't it, Argas? What else would it be? No, I refuse to allow you to lie at this moment, or myself to be sidetracked. Where is Phaon?'

Again Sannio ran out. Persis had edged up close to Argas; he put his arm round her and kissed her cheek lightly and said, ‘It's our chance now, Persis!'

Sannio came back with Phaon. Again Sannio knelt with the others, partly frightened, confusedly hoping for protection from its only possible source, partly to be in with the gang which included Argas and the Briton—the one who'd said things to him that made him feel warm and good. But Phaon stood with his head up. He was still wearing the long, deliberately archaic and Greek-looking, singer's robe of fine white linen. It hung in folds to his ankles, and he had a wreath of green leaves on his hair; they had been Greek songs, in praise of virtue, friendship and good wine. ‘Are you a Christian, Phaon?' his master asked.

‘Yes,' said Phaon lightly, knowing the moment was come, looking down at Argas and Persis who were half turned to watch him.

‘You know what has happened?' Crispus said.

‘I know we shall all be sent to prison and in another day we shall be able to show people that we've got something to die for.'

‘If I save you for Beric's sake,' Crispus said, ‘will you give up this Christianity?'

‘No,' said Phaon. He added, as a patient explanation, ‘It wouldn't do any good, my living without this, Beric wouldn't thank you for my life alone. He has tried to judge God's will; he has tried an old way which is proved wrong instead of our new way. But now he will see that the new way is the only way that can work, and he will want that to go on. He will want to become somehow part of it himself.'

‘All this—' said Crispus, and shook his head as though he were trying to wake up. ‘I don't understand.'

Phaon said, ‘It's one way or the other for me: either I die as a witness or I live as a witness. The Kingdom shall go on through me.'

‘I can't waste time on all this!' Crispus said abruptly. ‘We—We can discuss this later, Phaon. I propose to send you over immediately to Balbus's house and then down to my mother in the country.' He looked at them. ‘I see no reason why I should not do the same for Persis; my daughter has no right to own her after this. My tablets!'

They were on another table. Phaon went and picked them up and brought them. Holding them in his hand, he said, ‘I am and shall be a Christian. The same for Persis. We don't take our lives on any other terms.'

‘You are unreasonable, boy!' Crispus said, and was suddenly caught by a shuddering sob. ‘Give me my tablets.'