“
Teste Vestalis summo Iunius Porcia minor Kalendis Octobris, anno centesimo sexagesimo septimo post conditam Romam rite descripti in aede Vestae est testamento Caesaris Augusti. Imperatorem et principem Romanum imperium imperator legiones praetorianis scutum republica functus officio dictator consul Donec legatum Pontificis Maximi Senatoris et quaestore I Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus
. . .” Joshua read the entire manuscript in Latin, glad that he had kept his proficiency in the ancient language.
“Not all of us are Latin scholars, Dr. Parker,” said Simone Apriceno. “Can you give us a translation?”
Josh nodded, and began again. He went a bit slower, but the clear, strong hand was easy to read, and the Latin was clear and precise.
“‘Witnessed by Chief Vestal Porcia Junius Minor, on the Kalends of October, in the seven hundred and sixty-fifth year since the founding of Rome, and duly registered in the Temple of Vesta, is the Last Will and Testament of Gaius Julius Caesar Octavian Augustus. As
Princeps
and
Imperator
of Rome, commander of the Imperial Legions and Praetorian Guard, protector of the Republic, having held the offices of Dictator, Consul, Senior Legate, Pontifex Maximus, Senator, and Quaestor; I, Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus, in the forty-third year of my authority over Rome and its Empire, do set down in this public will and testament my wishes for the disposal of my personal goods as well as my political offices.
‘To my wife Lydia, I bequeath our three villas at Capri, Capua, and Sicily, one-third of all my personal fortune in an amount not to exceed a million sesterces, and my thanks for her steadfast partnership in all my ventures, public and private. To the Senate of Rome, I bequeath the statues I have erected in their honor, and the public buildings that I have erected at my own expense. Let it be known that I found Rome a city of wood, and left it a city of marble! If I have played my role well, then I would have all good Romans applaud at my exit.
‘To my adopted son, Tiberius Caesar, I bequeath my offices as
Princeps, Imperator,
commander of the Legions, and all other titles and emoluments that I may possess at the time of my death, as well as all my wealth not otherwise disposed. I charge him to guard and protect Rome, to uphold the rights of her citizens, and respect the
mos maiorum
that has guided the government of Rome since time immemorial. I charge him to be a just and wise guardian of Rome’s many provinces and client states, and to appoint none but good and wise men to govern them on Rome’s behalf. I have groomed him for this task for many years, and I have no doubt that he will acquit himself well.
‘To the people of Rome, I bequeath half of my personal fortune in an amount not to exceed two million sesterces, to be distributed evenly across all the Tribes, as well as the improvements I have made to the Circus Maximus, the many parks and gardens that I have built, and the stadiums I have endowed. Long may they endure as centers of rest and recreation for the hard-working citizens of Rome!
‘Here ends the public will of Caesar Augustus.
‘
Addendum:
To the Senate of Rome—I have, over the years, discussed with many of you the possibilities of restoring the Roman Republic, and allowing elected consuls to once more serve as the leaders of the Senate and People of Rome. After much deliberation and reflection, I have realized that the old Republic was designed for the governance of a city, not for the leadership of the civilized world. It was the fragile structure of the Old Republic that led to a century of civil war, and it was the cupidity and stubbornness of its last leaders that forced my father, the
divus Julius,
to cross the Rubicon and root out the rot at Rome’s core. Rome is no longer a Republic, although it retains many of its Republican forms. Only one man can practically govern an Empire, until such time as the laws of the Republic can be so thoroughly rewritten that an elected body can effectively rule the world. Only the gods know when such an hour will come. I charge you solemnly to honor my wishes in this matter.
‘
Second Addendum:
To Tiberius Caesar—I have left you the greatest inheritance ever bequeathed. Guard it jealously, yet handle it with care. It can make you into a god, but it can also destroy you, my son. Govern with justice, but with caution, and when the need for ruthlessness should arrive, do not hesitate to be as ruthless as the occasion demands. May the gods give you wisdom!’”
Josh paused. “There is a small, scribbled note at the bottom in the handwriting of Tiberius. It reads: ‘
Putat
senex
dedit
benedictionem
et
maledictionem
sicut
ego
?
Imperio mundi
nolo
nisi
ipse
regeret
.
’ In English:
‘The old man thinks he has granted me a blessing, but I will take it as a curse! I do not desire to rule the world, only to rule myself.’”
The roomful of antiquarians applauded, and he gave a little bow.
“This will have Roman scholars talking for years to come!” said Rossini.
“Indeed,” said Guioccini. “But we are going to have some journalists talking very badly about us if we do not board that helicopter for Capri right away. Isabella, will you send pictures of the Augustan scroll and the video you just took of Josh translating it to my cell phone? I am sure the journalists would be quite interested in this development.”
“Of course, sir,” said Isabella.
“Actually,” the president of the Bureau said, “let us hold off on telling them about this until tomorrow. We need to double check and transcribe the translation before we release it.”
Castolfo lingered after the others had left. He walked over to the table to peer closely at the original scroll rather than look at the oversized monitor. He started to reach out, just to touch one corner of the ancient papyrus, and then withdrew his hand. He looked at the archeologists with a wistful smile.
“For many years I have stared at the statues of Caesar Augustus—both the flawless, deified Augustus of the later years and the more accurate, human Octavian of his youth. I have read Suetonius, Cassius Dio, and Plutarch’s stories of him, and the poems that Virgil wrote in his honor. But to behold this scroll, in his own writing—” The president of the Bureau of Antiquities’ governing board gave a small shiver. “This is something I have never dreamed of. Thank you.”
Without another word, he walked out. Josh walked over and looked down at the ancient scroll, the elegant Latin letters as clear and bold now as they had been when they were written. He thought about the fact that, when that will had been written and left in the Temple of Vesta, not a single book of the New Testament had been written, and Jesus of Nazareth had still been in his teens.
“It’s humbling, isn’t it?” said MacDonald, standing at his elbow. “To stand in the presence of such a magnificent piece of history?”
“I remember the first time that I looked at the Declaration of Independence,” said Josh. “I was just so filled with awe, to be looking at the actual handwriting of Thomas Jefferson! But to think, when those men met at Philadelphia in 1776, this scroll had already been buried in that chamber for over seventeen centuries.”
Isabella had joined them. “It is truly an amazing experience!” she said. “When Giuseppe called me eight days ago, I truly had no idea of what lay in store.”
“What about the Pilate manuscript?” asked Josh, turning from the table and looking at the tank. The scroll had unrolled another inch or so, and he could plainly see the writing on it. “How long do you think?”
MacDonald looked at it carefully. “I want to be incredibly careful with this one,” he said. “Its significance is so enormous, we can leave nothing to chance. But it is obvious the humidifying effect is kicking in already. This scroll appears to be twice as long as the other one, and it has already unrolled nearly to the side of the tank. Fortunately, these tanks were made to rehydrate ancient papyrus and parchment, with the expectation that they would unroll as part of the process, and so the side walls are modular and easily removed or extended.” He reached out and grasped a small, vertical plastic grip that extended from the edge of the tank the Pilate document lay in, and carefully lifted and pulled. The entire side of the tank pulled out, doubling its length and giving the scroll more room. The priest reached on the shelf above the tanks and pulled down a roll of clear plastic adhesive tape and covered the slot that the side panel had left in the front plexiglass surface, to maintain the seal and keep the humid air inside.
“There!” he said. “Now the entire scroll should have room to unroll. I imagine that by tomorrow, or Wednesday at the latest, the
Testimonium Pilatus
will reveal its mysteries to us!”
“I wish we could start reading it now,” Josh said, looking wistfully at the ancient script. The writing was almost impossible to read from the low angle he had.
“I do too, laddie,” said MacDonald. “But at least, when we start it, we will be able to read it all at once!”
“There is that at least,” said Josh. “What shall we do with the rest of the afternoon?”
“It’s after three,” Isabella said. “Let’s review and edit our video and photographic records of the last days on-site, and then begin preparing our announcement to the press on the Augustan scroll.”
“And then we can watch ourselves on the evening news!” MacDonald said.
“Why don’t the two of you come on over to my place for supper?” said Isabella. “I’m no great cook, but we can order out and eat while we see how badly the press misquotes us.”
And so it was that two hours later, the three of them sat together in Isabella’s comfortable den, watching as the evening newscasts from all over Europe and the U.S. led with the story of their press conference. They started off with the American broadcast network, BNN, where the handsome and vapid countenance of Tyler Patterson smiled at the camera from just outside the ancient chamber on the island of Capri.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to BNN Around the Globe!” he said cheerfully. “I am standing on the island of Capri, just off the Italian coast near Naples. Behind me you can see the mysterious chamber of secrets left behind by the Roman Emperor Tiberius nearly two thousand years ago. Every year, thousands of tourists have tramped up and down the stone staircase above this tiny chamber, never suspecting its existence. Not until the earthquake that struck the island on Easter Sunday, eight days ago, did anyone suspect that this ruin held some of the most important discoveries in the history of archeology!”
Isabella leaned over toward Josh. “He may not be bright,” she said, “but he does have a flair for the dramatic!”
“Who needs intelligence when you can be entertaining?” Josh asked.
Onscreen, Patterson continued. “In this chamber, before leaving Capri on his ill-fated return to Rome in 47 AD, Tiberius sealed up his personal correspondence and some family heirlooms, which were revealed in a press conference at the National Archeological Museum in Naples today.”
The scene cut to the press conference, which had already been carried live all over the world. The most popular clip seemed to be Josh, drawing the sword of Caesar from its scabbard. Isabella nudged him. “You look ready to do battle with the Fourth Estate single-handedly!” she laughed.
Patterson’s voice-over continued. “As remarkable and exciting as these ancient relics are, the most important discoveries were not physically present at the press conference. Two ancient scrolls were still being dehydrated so they could be opened and read.” Father MacDonald choked at that gaffe. “One of these scrolls, according to the label written on the outside of it and visible in this video clip, is apparently the last will and testament of Julius Caesar Augustus, famous for creating the Roman Empire, and being Emperor at the time Jesus of Nazareth is thought to have been born.”
Josh groaned at that one. “Can’t they at least acknowledge that maybe the Gospels got Jesus’ birth year right, within a forty-year window?” he asked.
The broadcast continued. “Last of all, the archeologists revealed the existence of this scroll, which has yet to be opened and read. But its label proclaims it to be the ‘Testimony of Pontius Pilate, Governor of Judea.’ Pilate is known to Christians worldwide as the Roman governor who reluctantly signed Jesus’ death warrant in 33 AD. Speculation is rampant as to what this scroll might or might not contain. For our informed opinions, we have turned to our special religion correspondent, Pastor Joel Wombaker, leader of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in New York, and Dr. David Hubbard, leader of the American Atheism Foundation and well-known author of the book,
Life Without God: What the Church Doesn’t Want You to Know
. Gentlemen, what does this discovery mean for modern Christianity?”
The screen split to show the two men seated in the network’s New York studio. Wombaker spoke first. A stocky, powerfully built man with a shaved head and an irrepressible smile, his nationally televised sermon hour,
Blessed and Getting Better!
had edged out many of the older, more stolid TV preachers in recent years. “This is a great day for the Church!” he said. “Christians have long preached and taught that our faith is rooted in real, historical events, and having Pilate’s report to Rome, if indeed that is what this document is, will show everyone that has jumped on the Bible-bashing bandwagon in recent years that we have been right all along.”
“But what if Pilate’s testimony says that Jesus did not rise from the dead?” pressed Patterson. “What if he says the disciples hid the body, or that the Romans themselves took it for some reason?”
“Well,” said the preacher, “you have to consider that there is really no evidence that Pilate ever became a believer. So naturally he would try to find some natural explanation for such a strange event, especially in a report to his Emperor. Even St. Matthew tells us the priests bribed the guards to say that the disciples came and stole Jesus’ body.”