by Gore Vidal
We watched those boxers until one man finally killed the other. As the loser fell, Gallus leapt from his couch and threw his arms around the bloody victor, as though he had done him some extraordinary service. Then Gallus began to kick the dead man, laughing and shouting gleefully. He looked perfectly deranged. I have never seen a man's face quite so revealing of the beast within.
"Stop it, Gallus!" Constantia had noticed me at last. She was on her feet.
"What?" He looked at her blankly. Then he saw me. "Oh, yes," he said. He straightened his tunic. Slaves came forward and removed the dead boxer. Constantia approached me with a radiant smile. "How happy we are to see the famous Libanius here, in our palace." I saluted her formally, noticing with some surprise that her normal voice was low and musical, and that her Greek was excellent. In an instant she had transformed herself from Fury to queen.
Gallus came forward and gave me his hand to kiss. I got blood on my lips.
"Good, very good," he said, eyes unfocused like a man drunk. Then without another word, the Caesar of the East and his queen swept past me and that was the end of the only private audience I was ever to have with either of them. I was most unnerved. During the next few years the misdeeds of the couple were beyond anything since Caligula. To begin with, they were both eager for money. To further her political objectives Constantia needed all the gold she could amass. She tried everything: blackmail, the sale of public offices, confiscation. One of her fundraising attempts involved a family I knew. It was a peculiar situation. When the daughter married an extremely handsome youth from Alexandria, her mother, an ordinarily demure matron—or so we all thought—promptly fell in love with him. For a year she tried unsuccessfully to seduce her son-in-law. Finally, he told her that if she did not stop importuning him, he would return to Alexandria. Quite out of her mind with rage, the woman went to Constantia and offered that noble queen a small fortune for the arrest and execution of her son-in-law. Constantia took the money; and the unfortunate youth was executed on a trumped-up charge. Then Constantia, who was not without a certain bitter humour, sent the matron her son-in-law's genitals with the brief note: "At last!" The woman lost her mind. Antioch was scandalized. And the days of terror began.
At times it seemed almost as if Gallus and Constantia had deliberately studied the lives of previous monsters with an eye to recreating old deeds of horror. Nero used to roam the streets at night with a band of rowdies, pretending he was an ordinary young buck on the town. So did Gallus. Caligula used to ask people what they thought of the emperor and if their answer was unflattering, he would butcher them on the spot. So did Gallus. Or tried to. Unfortunately for him, Antioch—unlike early imperial Rome—has the most elaborate street lighting in the world. Our night is like noon in most cities, so Gallus was almost always recognized. As a result, the praetorian prefect of the East, Thalassios, was able to persuade him that not only was it unbecoming for a Caesar to rove the streets at night, it was also dangerous. Gallus abandoned his prowling.
During Gallus's third year as Caesar, there was a famine in Syria. When the food shortages at Antioch began, Gallus tried to fix prices at a level which would make it possible for everyone to buy grain. Even wise rulers from time to time make this mistake. It never works since the result is usually the precise opposite of the one intended. Grain is either held back from the market or bought up by speculators who resell it at a huge profit, increasing the famine. Men are like this and there is nothing to be done about them. The senate of Antioch has many faults, but its members are sound businessmen with an understanding of the market which is their life. They warned Gallus of the dangers of his policy. He ordered them to obey him. When they continued to resist him, he sent his own guards into the senate chamber, arrested the leading senators and condemned them to death. Antioch has reason to be grateful to both Thalassios and Nebridius, the Count of the East. These two brave men told Gallus that if he went through with the executions, they would appeal to the Augustus and demand the Caesar's removal. It was a brave thing to do, and to everyone's surprise they carried the day. Gallus released the senators, and that was the end of the matter. For some months Antioch was relieved to know that in Thalassios the city had a defender. But then Thalassios died of fever. Of course it was rumoured that he had been poisoned, but I happen to know that it was indeed the fever that he died of, as we shared the same doctor. But I do not mean to write the history of Gallus, which is so well known.
Julian Augustus
After Aetius's visit to me, I met Maximus only in secret. I arranged this by seeing to it that the guards who accompanied me were brothers in Mithras. I don't think I was once betrayed during the three years I lived with Oribasius at Pergamon. I also made a point of becoming a friend of the bishop of the city. With him, I observed every Galilean festival. I hated myself for this deception, but I had no choice.
During these years, I was free to travel wherever I pleased in the East. I could even visit Constantinople, though the Chamberiain's office suggested tactfully that I not live there since it was, after all, the imperial capital without, at present, an emperor in residence, which meant that any visit I chose to make could be construed as… I understood perfectly and stayed away. My request for permission to go to Athens was rejected. I don't know why. Gallus sent me several invitations to come to Antioch, but I was always able to avoid accepting them. I think he was relieved not to have me near him. However, he was most conscientious in his role as older brother and guardian, not to mention ruler. I received weekly bulletins from him asking about my spiritual health. He was eager, he said, for me to be a devout and good man, like himself. I think he was perfectly sincere in his exhortations. His fault was a common one. He simply did not know what he was; he saw no flaw in himself, a not unusual blindness and preferable, on the whole, to being unable to find any virtue in oneself.
My friendship with Oribasius is the only intimate one I have ever had—the result, I suppose, of having never known the ordinary life of a family. Oribasius is both friend and brother, even though we are not much alike in disposition. He is sceptical and experimental, interested only in the material world. I am the opposite. He balances me. Or tries to. And I think at times I give him some inkling of what the metaphysical is like. For nearly four years we lived together, travelled together, studied together. We even shared a mistress for a time, though this caused some disturbance since I found, to my surprise, that I have a jealous nature. I had never forgiven the Antiochene at Macellum for preferring Gallus to me. Yet I should have. After all, Gallus was older and handsomer than I. Even so, I had been resentful. I did not realize to what extent, until I was again put in exactly the same situation. One afternoon I overheard Oribasius and our mutual mistress—a blue-eyed Gaul—making love. I heard their heavy breathing. I heard the leather thongs of the bed creak. Suddenly I wanted to murder them both. I knew then exactly what it was like to be Gallus, and I almost fainted at the violence of my own response. But the moment quickly passed and I was filled with shame. During those years, Maximus taught me many things. He showed me mysteries. He made it possible for me to contemplate the One. He was the perfect teacher. Also, contrary to legend, he did not in any way try to excite my ambition. We never spoke of my becoming emperor. It was the one forbidden subject.
Priscus: This is simply not true. From certain things both Julian and Maximus said to me, I know that they were busy plotting to make Julian emperor. Maximus was not about to waste his time on a minor prince, nor was Oribasius—even though his friendship with Julian was genuine, or as genuine as anyone's relations can ever be with a prince.
I have been told of at least one seance where Maximus was advised by one of his invisible friends that Julian was destined to become emperor. I also know that Sosipatra and a number of other magicians were secret partisans. Of course after Julian became emperor, every magician in Asia claimed to have had a hand in his success. I can't think why Julian wanted to deny what so many of us know to have been true. Perhaps
to discourage others from plotting against him, as he plotted against Constantius.
Libanius: "Plotted" is the wrong word, though of course Julian is disingenuous in his narrative. I agree with Priscus that Maximus and Oribasius were already looking forward to the day when their friend would be, if not Augustus, at least Caesar. I am also perfectly certain that Maximus consulted forbidden oracles, and all the rest. Sosipatra told me as much a few years ago: "The goddess Cybele always favoured Julian, and said so. We were all so grateful to her for her aid."
But I strongly doubt that there was any political plot. How could there be? Julian had very little money. He was guarded by a detachment of household troops whose commander was directly answerable to the Grand Chamberlain. Also, I do not believe that Julian at this point wanted the principate. He was a devoted student. He was terrified of the court. He had never commanded a single soldier in war or peace. How could he then, at the age of twenty, dream of becoming emperor? Or rather he might "dream"—in fact we know that he did—but he could hardly have planned to take the throne.
Julian Augustus
In the autumn of 353, Gallus made a state visit to Pergamon. It was the first time we had met since we were boys at Macellum. I stood with the town prefect and the local dignitaries in front of the senate house and watched Gallus receive the homage of the city.
During the five years since we had seen one another, I had become a man with a full beard. But Gallus had remained exactly as he was, the beautiful youth whom all admired. I confess that I had a return of the old emotion when he embraced me formally and I looked once again into those familiar blue eyes. What was the old emotion? A loss of will, I should say. Whatever he wanted me to do I would do. Gallus, by existing, robbed me of strength.
"We are pleased to see once again our beloved and most noble brother." Gallus had by now completely assumed the imperial manner. Before I could reply, Gallus had turned to the b'lshop of Pergamon. "He is, we have heard, a pillar of the true church."
"Indeed, Caesar, the most noble Julian is a worthy son of holy church." I was extremely grateful to the bishop. Also, I was rather pleased that my efforts to appear a devout Galilean had been so successful.
Gallus then made a graceful speech to the city fathers, who were so charmed by him that they were obviously puzzled at how this enchanting creature had ever got the reputation of being a cruel and frivolous despot. Gallus could charm anyone, even me.
That night a dinner was given him at the prefect's palace. He behaved himself quite well, though I noticed that he did not cut his wine with water. As a result, he was drunk by the end of the evening. Yet he maintained his dignity and only a slight slowness of speech betrayed his state. Though I sat beside him during dinner, he did not speak to me once. All his efforts were bent on delighting the city prefect. I was miserable, wondering in what way I had managed to offend him. Oribasius, who sat across the room with the minor functionaries of the court, winked at me encouragingly. But I was not encouraged.
The dinner ended, Gallus suddenly turned to me and said, "You come with me." And so I followed him as he moved through the bowing courtiers to his bedroom, where two eunuchs were waiting for him.
I had never before seen the etiquette of a Caesar's bedchamber and I watched, fascinated, as the eunuchs, murmuring ceremonial phrases, undressed Gallus while he lolled in an ivory chair, completely unaware of them. He was without self-consciousness or modesty. When he was completely undressed, he waved them away with the command "Bring us wine!" Then while the wine was served us, he talked to me or rather at me. In the lamplight his face glowed red from drink and the blond hair looked white as it fell across his brow. The body, I noticed, though still beautifully shaped, was beginning to grow thick at the belly.
"Constantia wants to know you. She talks of you often. But of course she couldn't come here. One of us must always be at Antioch. Spies. Traitors. No one is honest. Do you realize that? No one. You can never trust anyone, not even your own flesh and blood."
I tried to protest loyalty at this point. But Gallus ignored me.
"All men are evil. I found that out early. They are born in sin, live in sin, die in sin. Only God can save us. I pray that he will save me." Gallus made the sign of a cross on his bare chest.
"But it is a fine thing in an evil world to be Caesar. From here? he indicated a height, "you can see them all. You can see them at their games. But they can't see you. Sometimes at night, I walk the streets in disguise. I listen to them. I watch them, knowing I can do anything to them I want and no one can touch me. If I want to rape a woman or kill a man in an alley, I can. Sometimes I do." He frowned. "But it is evil. I know it. I try not to. Yet I feel that when I do these things there is something higher which acts through me. I am a child of God. Unworthy as I am, he created me and to him I shall return. What I am, he wanted me to be. That is why I am good."
I must say I was stunned by this particular self-estimate. But my face showed only respectful interest.
"I build churches. I establish religious orders. I stamp out heresy wherever I find it. I am an active agent for the good. I must be. It is what I was born for. I can hardly believe you are my brother."
He shifted his thought without a pause. He looked at me for the first time. The famous blue eyes were bloodshot in the full lamplight.
"Half-brother, Gallus."
"Even so. We are the same blood, which is what matters. That is what binds me to Constantius. And you to me. We are the chosen of God to do the work of his church on earth."
At this point an extraordinarily pretty girl slipped quietly into the room. Gallus did not acknowledge her presence, so neither dirt I. He continued to talk and drink, while she made love to him in front of me. I suppose it was the most embarrassing moment of my life. I tried not to watch. I looked at the ceiling. I looked at the floor. But my eyes continually strayed back to my brother as he reclined on the couch, hardly moving, as the girl with infinite skill and delicacy served him.
"Constantius will do anything I ask him. That is what blood means. He will also listen to his sister, my wife. She is the most important woman in the world. A perfect wife, a great queen."
He shifted his position on the couch so that his legs were spread apart.
"I hope you marry well. You could, you know. Constantius has another sister, Helena. She's much older than you, but that makes no difference when it is a matter of blood. Perhaps he will marry you to her. Perhaps he will even make you a Caesar, like me. Would that please you?"
I almost missed the question, my eyes riveted on what the girl was doing. Oribasius says that I am a prude. I suppose he is right. I know that I was sweating with nervous tension as I watched the ravishing of Gallus. "No," I stammered. "I have no wish to be Caesar. Only a student. I am perfectly happy."
"Everyone lies," said Gallus sadly. "Even you. Even flesh and blood. But there's very little chance of your being raised up. Very little. I have the East, Constantius the West. You are not needed. Do you have girls in your household?"
"One." My voice broke nervously.
"One!" He shook his head wonderingly. "And your friend? The one you live with?"
"Oribasius."
"Is he your lover?"
"No!"
"I wondered. It's perfectly all right. You're not Hadrian. What you do doesn't matter. Though if you like boys, I suggest you keep to slaves. It's politically dangerous to have anything to do with a man of your own class."
"I am not interested…" I began, but he continued right through me.
"Slaves are always best. Particularly stableboys and grooms."
The blue eyes flashed suddenly: for an instant his face was transfigured by malice. He wanted me to recall what I had seen that day in the clearing. "But suit yourself. Anyway, my only advice to you, my only warning to you, not only as your brother but as your ruler…" He stopped suddenly and took a deep breath. The girl had finished. She got to her feet and stood in front of him, head bowed. He smiled, charmi
ngly. Then he reached up and with all his strength struck her full in the face. She staggered back, but made no sound. Then at a gesture from him, she withdrew.
Gallus turned to me as though nothing had happened and picked up his sentence where he had left off. "… under no circumstances are you to see this magician Maximus. There are already enough rumours that you may have lost your faith. I know that you haven't. How could you? We are of the house of Constantine the Great, the equal of the Apostles. We are the chosen of God. But even so…" He yawned. He lay back on the couch. "Even so…" he repeated and shut his eyes. I waited a moment for him to continue. But he was asleep.
The eunuchs reappeared. One placed a silk coverlet over Gallus. The other removed the wine. They acted as though what I had witnessed was a perfectly ordinary evening; perhaps it was. As Gatlus began drunkenly to snore, I tiptoed from the room.
Priscus: I always thought Julian might have been a happier man had he been a bit more like Gallus. No one can say that Gallus did not enjoy himself. His was an exemplary life of complete selfindulgence. I could not be more envious of him.
Libanius: Obviously Priscus has found his ideal.
Within months of the state visit to Pergamon, Gallus fell. For two years the Emperor had been receiving disquieting reports about Gallus. Nebridius had told him bluntly that if Gallus were not removed as Caesar there would be civil war in Syria. In his last letter to Constantius, Thalassios had said much the same thing.