'Catilina did the killing, and then required you and others present to swear an oath.'
'Did he?' Hybrida screwed up his face as if he were trying to remember some long-forgotten acquaintance. 'No, I don't think so. No, you are mistaken.'
'Yes he did. You swore an oath on the blood of that slaughtered child to murder your own colleague as consul – the man who now sits beside you as your advocate!'
These words produced a fresh sensation, and when the cries had died away, Cicero got up. 'Really, this is a pity,' he said, with a regretful shake of his head, 'a great pity, because my young friend was not doing a bad job as prosecutor up to this moment – he was my pupil once, gentlemen, so actually I flatter myself as well as him by conceding it. Unfortunately now he has gone and ruined his own case with an insane allegation. I fear I shall have to take him back to the classroom.'
'I know it is true, Cicero,' retorted Rufus, smiling even more broadly, 'because you told me about it yourself.'
For the barest flicker of an instant, Cicero hesitated, and I saw to my horror that he had forgotten his conversation with Rufus all those years ago. 'You ungrateful wretch,' he spluttered. 'I did no such thing.'
'In the first week of your consulship,' said Rufus, 'two days after the Latin Festival you called me to your house and asked if Catilina had ever talked in my presence of killing you. You told me that Hybrida had confessed to swearing an oath with Catilina on a murdered boy to do precisely that. You asked me to keep my ears open.'
'That is a complete lie!' shouted Cicero, but his bluster did little to dispel the effect of Rufus's cool and precise recollection.
'This is the man you took into your confidence as consul,' continued Rufus, with deadly calmness, pointing at Hybrida. 'This is the man you foisted on the people of Macedonia as their governor – a man you knew to have taken part in a bestial murder, and who had desired your own death. And yet this is the man you defend today. Why?'
'I don't have to answer your questions, boy.'
Rufus strolled over to the jury. 'That is the question, gentlemen: why does Cicero, of all men, who made his reputation attacking corrupt provincial governors, now destroy his good name by defending this one?'
Once again Cicero stretched out a hand to the praetor. 'Clodianus, I am asking you, for heaven's sake, to control your court. This is supposed to be a cross-examination of my client, not a speech about me.'
'That is true, Rufus,' said the praetor. 'Your questions must relate to the case in hand.'
'But they do. My case is that Cicero and Hybrida came to an agreement.'
Cicero said, 'There is no proof of that.'
'Yes there is,' retorted Rufus. 'Less than a year after you dispatched Hybrida to the long-suffering people of Macedonia, you bought yourself a new house – there!' He gestured to it, gleaming on the Palatine in the spring sunshine, and the jurymen all turned their heads to look. 'One much like it sold soon afterwards for fourteen million sesterces. Fourteen million! Ask yourselves, gentlemen: where did Cicero, who prided himself on his humble origins, acquire such a fortune, if not from the man he both blackmailed and protected, Antonius Hybrida? Is that not the truth,' he demanded, turning back to the accused, 'that you diverted part of the money you extorted from your province to your partner in crime in Rome?'
'No, no,' protested Hybrida. 'I may have sent Cicero a gift or two from time to time, but that is all.' (This was the explanation they had agreed on the previous evening, in case Rufus had evidence of money passing between them.)
' A gift? ' repeated Rufus. With exaggerated slowness he looked once more at Cicero's house, raising his hand to protect his eyes from the sun. A woman with a parasol was strolling along the terrace, and I realised it must be Terentia. 'That is quite a gift!'
Cicero sat very still. He watched Rufus closely. Several members of the jury were shaking their heads. From the audience in the comitium came the sound of jeering.
'Gentlemen,' said Rufus, 'I believe I have made my case. I have shown how Hybrida lost a whole region from our empire by his treasonable negligence. I have proved his cowardice and incompetence. I have revealed how money that should have gone to the army went instead into his own coffers. The ghosts of his legionaries, abandoned by their chief and cruelly murdered by the barbarians, cry out to us for justice. This monster should never have been permitted to hold such a high position, and would not have done so without the collusion of his consular colleague. His career is soaked in blood and depravity – the murder of that child is but a small part of it. It is too late to bring the dead back to life, but let us at least remove this man and his stench from Rome. Let us send him into exile tonight.'
Rufus sat down to prolonged applause. The praetor looked somewhat surprised, and asked if that was the conclusion of the prosecution's case. Rufus signalled that it was.
'Well, well. I thought we had at least another day to go,' said Clodianus. He turned to Cicero. 'Do you wish to make your closing speech for the defence immediately, or would you prefer the court to adjourn overnight so that you can prepare your remarks?'
Cicero was looking very flushed, and I knew at once that it would be a grave mistake for him to speak before he had had a chance to calm down. I was sitting in the space set aside for the clerks, just below the podium, and I actually rose and went up the couple of steps to plead with him to accept the adjournment. But he waved me aside before I could utter a word. There was a curious light in his eyes. I am not sure he even saw me.
'Such lies,' he said with utter disgust. He rose to his feet. 'Such lies are best squashed dead at once, like cockroaches, and not left alive to breed overnight.'
The area in front of the court had been full before, but now people began to stream into the comitium from all across the forum. Cicero on his feet was one of the great sights of Rome, and no one wanted to miss it. Not one of the Three Heads of the Beast was present, but here and there in the crowd I could see their surrogates: Balbus for Caesar, Afranius for Pompey, Arrius for Crassus. I did not have time to look for anyone else: Cicero had started speaking and I had to take down his words.
'I must confess,' he said, 'I had not much relished the prospect of coming down to this court to defend my old friend and colleague Antonius Hybrida, for such obligations as these are numerous and rest heavily on a man who has been in public life as long as I have. Yes, Rufus: “obligations” – that is a word you do not understand, otherwise you would not have addressed me in such a fashion. But now I welcome this duty – I relish it, I am glad for it – because it enables me to say something that has needed to be said for years. Yes, I made common cause with Hybrida, gentlemen – I do not deny it. I sought him out. I overlooked the differences in our styles of life and views. I overlooked many things, in fact, because I had no choice. If I was to save this republic I needed allies, and could not be too particular about where they came from.
'Cast your minds back to that terrible time. Do you think that Catilina acted alone? Do you think that one man, however energetic and inspired in his depravity, could have proceeded as far as Catilina did – could have brought this city and our republic to the edge of destruction – if he had not had powerful supporters? And I do not mean that ragbag of bankrupt noblemen, gamblers, drunkards, perfumed youths and lay abouts who flocked around him – among whom, incidentally, our ambitious young prosecutor was once numbered.
'No, I mean men of substance in our state – men who saw in Catilina an opportunity to advance their own dangerous and deluded ambitions. These men were not justly executed on the orders of the senate on the fifth day of December, nor did they die on the field of battle at the hands of the legions commanded by Hybrida. They were not sent into exile as a result of my testimony. They walk free today. No, more than that: they control this republic!'
Up to this point in his speech, Cicero had been heard in silence. But now a great many people drew in their breath, or turned to their neighbours to express their astonishment. Balbus had started making n
otes on a wax tablet. I thought, Does he realise what he is doing? and I risked a glance at Cicero. He barely seemed conscious of where he was – oblivious to the court, to his audience, to me, to political calculation: he was intent only on getting out his words.
'These men made Catilina what he was. He would have been nothing without them. They gave him their votes, their money, their assistance and their protection. They spoke up for him in the senate and in the law courts and in the popular assemblies. They shielded him and they nurtured him and they even supplied him with the weapons he needed to slaughter the government.' (Here my notes record more loud exclamations from the audience.) 'Until this moment, gentlemen, I did not realise the extent to which there were two conspiracies I had to fight. There was the conspiracy that I destroyed, and then there was the conspiracy behind that conspiracy – and that inner one prospers still. Look around you, Romans, and you can see how well it prospers! Rule by secret conclave and by terror on the streets. Rule by illegal methods and by bribery on a massive scale – dear gods, you accuse Hybrida of corruption? He is as guileless and as helpless as a baby by comparison with Caesar and his friends!
'This trial itself is the proof. Do you think that Rufus is the sole author of this prosecution? This neophyte who has barely grown his first beard? What nonsense! These attacks – this so-called evidence – all of it is designed to discredit not just Hybrida, but me – my reputation, my consulship, and the policies I pursued. The men behind Rufus seek to destroy the traditions of our republic for their own wicked ends, and to accomplish that – forgive me if I flatter myself: it is not the first time, I know – to achieve that aim they need to destroy me first.
'Well, gentlemen, here in this court, on this day, at this defining hour, you have a chance for immortal glory. That Hybrida made mistakes I do not doubt. That he has indulged himself more than was wise for him, I sadly concede. But look beyond his sins and you will see the same man who stood with me against the monster who threatened this city four years ago. Without his support, I would have been struck down by an assassin very early in my term. He did not desert me then, and I shall not abandon him now. Acquit him by your votes, I pray you; keep him here in Rome, and by the grace of our ancient gods we shall once again restore the light of liberty to this city of our forefathers!'
Thus spoke Cicero, but when he sat down there was very little applause, mostly just a buzz of amazement around the court at what he had said. Those who agreed with him were too frightened to be seen to support him. Those who disagreed with him were too cowed by the impact of his rhetoric to protest. The rest – the majority, I should say – were simply bewildered. I looked for Balbus in the crowd, but he had slipped away. I went up to Cicero with my notebook and congratulated him on the force of his remarks.
'Did you get it all down?' he asked, and when I replied that I had, he told me to copy out the speech as soon as we got home and hide it in a safe place. 'I expect a version is on its way to Caesar even now,' he added. 'I saw that reptile Balbus writing almost as quickly as I could speak. We must make sure we have an accurate transcript in case this is raised in the senate.'
I could not stay to talk to him further, as the praetor was ordering that the jury should be balloted at once. I glanced at the sky. It was the middle of the day; the sun was high and warm. I returned to my place and watched the urn as it was passed from hand to hand and filled with tokens. Cicero and Hybrida sat watching as well, side by side, too nervous to speak, and I thought of all the other trials I had sat through, and how they always ended in exactly this way, with this horrible period of waiting. Eventually the clerks completed their tally and the result was passed up to the praetor. He stood, and we all followed suit.
'The question before the court is whether Caius Antonius Hybrida is to be condemned for treason in connection with his governorship of the province of Macedonia. There voted in favour of condemnation forty-seven, and in favour of acquittal twelve.' There was a great cheer from the crowd. Hybrida bowed his head. The praetor waited until the sounds had died away. 'Caius Antonius Hybrida is therefore stripped of all rights of property and citizenship in perpetuity, and from midnight is to be denied fire and water anywhere within the lands, cities and colonies of Italy, and any who seek to assist him shall be subject to the same punishment. This court is adjourned.'
Cicero did not lose many cases, but on the rare occasions that he did, he was usually scrupulous in congratulating his opponents. Not this time. When Rufus came over to commiserate, Cicero pointedly turned his back on him, and I was pleased to see that the young rogue was left with his hand extended in midair, looking a fool. Eventually he shrugged and turned away. As for Hybrida, he was philosophical. 'Well,' he said to Cicero in my hearing, as he was preparing to be led away by the lictors, 'you warned me the way the wind was blowing, and thankfully I have a little money put by to see me through my old age. Besides, I am told that the southern coast of Gaul looks very like the Bay of Naples. So do not concern yourself with my fate, Cicero. After that speech, it is your own you ought to worry about.'
It must have been about two hours later – certainly no more – that the door to Cicero's house was suddenly thrown open and Metellus Celer appeared in a state of great agitation, demanding to see my master. Cicero was dining with Terentia and I was still transcribing his speech. But I could see it was supremely urgent so I took him through at once.
Cicero was reclining on a couch, describing the end of Hybrida's trial, when Celer burst into the room and interrupted him.
'What did you say in court about Caesar this morning?'
'Good day to you, Celer. I told a few truths, that's all. Will you join us?'
'Well, they must have been pretty dangerous truths, for Gaius is exacting a mighty revenge.'
'Is he really?' replied Cicero, with an attempt at sangfroid. 'And what is to be my punishment?'
'He is in the senate house as we speak, arranging for that swine of a brother-in-law of mine to become a plebeian!'
Cicero sat up in such alarm he knocked his glass over. 'No, no,' he said, 'that cannot be right. Caesar would never lift a finger to help Clodius – not after what Clodius did to his wife.'
'You are wrong. He is doing it right now.'
'How do you know?'
'My own darling wife just took great pleasure in telling me.'
'But how is it possible?'
'You forget Caesar is the chief priest. He has summoned an emergency meeting of the curia to approve an adoption.'
Terentia said, 'Is that legal?'
'Since when did legality matter,' asked Cicero bitterly, 'when Caesar is involved?' He started rubbing his forehead very hard, as if he could somehow magic forth a solution. 'What about getting Bibulus to pronounce the auguries unfavourable?'
'Caesar's thought of that. He has Pompey with him-'
'Pompey?' Cicero looked stunned. 'This gets worse every moment!'
'Pompey is an augur. He's observed the skies and declared that all's well.'
'But you're an augur. Can't you overrule him?'
'I can try. At the very least we ought to get down there.'
Cicero needed no further urging. Still wearing his slippers, he hurried out of the house after Celer, while I panted along at their backs with their attendants. The streets were quiet: Caesar had moved so quickly, no word of what was happening had filtered through to the people. Unfortunately, by the time we had sprinted across the forum and thrown open the doors of the senate house, the ceremony was just finishing – and what a shameful scene it was that met our eyes. Caesar was on the dais at the far end of the chamber, dressed in his robes as chief priest and surrounded by his lictors. Pompey was beside him, absurd in his augural cap and carrying a divining wand. Several other pontiffs were also standing around, among them Crassus, who had been co-opted into the college at Caesar's behest to replace Catulus. Clustered together on the wooden benches, like penned sheep, was the curia, the thirty elderly greyheads who were the chiefs of the
tribes of Rome. And finally, to complete the picture, the golden-curled Clodius was kneeling in the aisle next to another man. Everyone turned at the noise of our entrance, and never have I forgotten the smirk of triumph on Clodius's face when he realised Cicero was watching – it was a look of almost childish devilment – although it was quickly replaced by an expression of terror as his brother-in-law strode towards him, followed by Cicero.
'What the fuck is going on here?' shouted Celer.
'Metellus Celer,' responded Caesar in a firm voice, 'this is a religious ceremony. Do not profane it.'
'A religious ceremony! With Rome's profaner-in-chief kneeling here – the man who fucked your own wife!' He aimed a kick at Clodius, who scrambled away from him towards Caesar's feet. 'And who is this boy?' he demanded, looming over the other cowering man. 'Let's see who's joined the family!' He hauled him to his feet by the scruff of his neck and turned him round to show us – a shivering, pimply youth of twenty or so.
'Show some respect to my adopted father,' said Clodius, who, despite his fear, could not stop himself laughing.
'You disgusting-' Celer dropped the youth and returned his attention to Clodius, drawing back his huge fist to strike him, but Cicero caught his arm. 'No, Celer. Don't give them an excuse to arrest you.'
'Wise advice,' said Caesar.
After a moment, Celer reluctantly lowered his hand. 'So your father is younger than you are? What a farce this is!'
Clodius smirked. 'He was the best that could be found at short notice.'
Precisely what the tribal elders – none of whom was under fifty – must have made of this spectacle, I cannot imagine. Many were old friends of Cicero. We learned later that they had been turfed from their homes and places of business by Caesar's henchmen, frogmarched to the senate house and more or less ordered to approve Clodius's adoption.
'Have we finished here yet?' asked Pompey. He not only looked ridiculous in his augural outfit but plainly was embarrassed.
'Yes, we have finished,' said Caesar. He held out a hand as if bestowing a blessing at a wedding. 'Publius Clodius Pulcher, by the powers of my office as pontifex maximus, I declare that you are now the adopted son of Publius Fonteius, and will be entered into the state's records as a plebeian. Your change of status having immediate effect, you may therefore contest the elections for tribune if you wish. Thank you, gentlemen.' Caesar nodded their dismissal, the curia rose to their feet, and the first consul and chief priest of Rome lifted his robes a fraction and stepped down from the dais, his afternoon's work done. He moved past Clodius with his head averted in distaste, as one might pass a carcass in the street. 'You should have heeded my warning,' he hissed at Cicero as he went by. 'Now look what you've forced me to do.' He processed with his lictors towards the door, followed by Pompey, who still could not bring himself to meet Cicero's eyes; only Crassus permitted himself a slight smile.
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