What would Cornelia the Mother of the Gracchi do? For once Aurelia had no answer to that question; neither logic nor instinct could graft Aurelia's predicament onto one whose parents would never, never, never have given her the freedom to choose her own husband. Of course Aurelia could appreciate the reasons why her crafty Uncle Publius had suggested it; her own classical education was more than broad enough to appreciate the parallel between herself and Helen of Troy, though Aurelia did not think of herself as fatally beautiful more as irresistibly eligible. Finally she came to the only conclusion Cornelia the Mother of the Gracchi would have approved; she must sift through her suitors with painstaking care, and choose the best one. That did not mean the one who attracted her most strongly. It meant the one who measured up to the Roman ideal. Therefore he must be wellborn, of a senatorial family at least and one whose dignitas, whose public worth and standing in Rome went down the generations since the founding of the Republic without slur or smear or scar; he must be brave, untempted by excesses of any kind, contemptuous of monetary greed, above bribery or ethical prostitution, and prepared if necessary to lay down his life for Rome or for his honor. A tall order! The trouble was, how could a girl of her sheltered background be sure she was judging aright? So she decided to talk to the three adult members of her immediate family to Marcus Cotta and to Rutilia and to her elder half brother, Lucius Aurelius Cotta and ask them for their candid opinions about each of the men on the list of suitors. The three applied to were taken aback, but they tried to help as best they could; unfortunately, each of them when pressed admitted to personal prejudices likely to warp judgment, so Aurelia ended up no better off. "There's no one she really fancies," said Cotta to his wife gloomily. "Not a solitary one!" said Rutilia, sighing. "It's unbelievable, Rutilia! An eighteen-year-old girl without a hankering for anyone! What's the matter with her?" "How should I know?" asked Rutilia, feeling unfairly put on the defensive. "She doesn't get it from my side of the family!" "Well, she certainly doesn't get it from mine!" snapped Cotta, then shook himself out of his exasperation, kissed his wife to make up, and slumped back into simple depression. "I would be willing to bet, you know, that she ends up deciding none of them are any good!" "I agree," said Rutilia. "What are we going to do, then? If we're not careful, we'll end up with the first voluntary spinster in the entire history of Rome!" "We'd better send her to see my brother," Rutilia said. "She can talk to him about it." Cotta brightened. "An excellent idea!" he said. The next day Aurelia walked from the Cotta mansion on the Palatine to Publius Rutilius Rufus's house on the Carinae, escorted by her maidservant, Cardixa, and two big Gallic slaves whose duties were many and varied, but all demanded plenty of physical strength; neither Cotta nor Rutilia had wanted to handicap the congress between Aurelia and her uncle with the presence of parents. An appointment had been made, for as consul kept to administer Rome thus freeing up Gnaeus Mallius Maximus to recruit the very large army he intended to take to Gaul-across-the-Alps in late spring Rutilius Rufus was a busy man. Never too busy, however, to deal with the few items of a family nature which came his way. Marcus Cotta had called to see his brother-in-law just before dawn, and explained the situation which seemed to amuse Rutilius Rufus mightily. "Oh, the little one!" he exclaimed, shoulders shaking. "A virgin through and through. Well, we'll have to make sure she doesn't make the wrong decision and remain a virgin for the rest of her life, no matter how many husbands and children she might have." "I hope you have a solution, Publius Rutilius," said Cotta. "I can't even see a tiny gleam of light." "I know what to do," said Rutilius Rufus smugly. "Send her over to me just before the tenth hour. She can have some dinner with me. I'll send her home in a litter under strong guard, never fear." When Aurelia arrived, Rutilius Rufus sent Cardixa and the two Gauls to his servants' quarters to eat dinner and wait upon his pleasure; Aurelia he conducted to his dining room, and saw her comfortably ensconced upon a straight chair where she could converse with equal ease with her uncle and whoever might recline to his left. "I'm only expecting one guest," he said, getting himself organized oft his couch. "Brrr! Chilly, isn't it? How about a nice warm pair of woolly socks, niece?" Any other eighteen-year-old female might have considered death a preferable fate to wearing something as un-glamorous as a nice warm pair of woolly socks, but not Aurelia, who judiciously weighed the ambient temperature of the room against her own state of being, then nodded. "Thank you, Uncle Publius," she said. Cardixa was summoned and bidden obtain the socks from the housekeeper, which she did with commendable promptness. "What a sensible girl you are!" said Rutilius Rufus, who really did adore Aurelia's common sense as any other man might adore the perfect ocean pearl he found inside a whiskery whelk on the Ostia mud flats. No great lover of women, he never paused to reflect that common sense was a commodity just as rare in men as in women; he simply looked for its lack in women and consequently found it. Thus was Aurelia, his miraculous ocean pearl, found on the mud flats of womankind, and greatly did he treasure her. "Thank you, Uncle Publius," said Aurelia, and gave her attention to Cardixa, who was kneeling to remove shoes. The two girls were engrossed in pulling on socks when the single guest was ushered in; neither of them bothered to look up at the sounds of greeting, the noises of the guest being settled to his host's left. As Aurelia straightened again, she looked into Cardixa's eyes and said, "Thank you," with one of her very rare smiles. So when she was fully upright and gazing across the table at her uncle and his guest, the smile still lingered, as did the additional flush bending down had imparted to her cheeks; she looked breathtaking. The guest's breath caught audibly. So did Aurelia's. "Gaius Julius, this is my sister's girl, Aurelia," said Publius Rutilius Rufus suavely. "Aurelia, I would like you to meet the son of my old friend Gaius Julius Caesar a Gaius like his father, but not the eldest son." Purple eyes even larger than usual, Aurelia looked at the shape of her fate, and never thought once of the Roman ideal, or Cornelia the Mother of the Gracchi. Or perhaps on some deeper level she did; for indeed he measured up, though only time would prove it to her. At this moment of meeting, all she saw was his long Roman face with its long Roman nose, the bluest of eyes, thickly waving golden hair, beautiful mouth. And, after all that internal debate, all that careful yet fruitless deliberation, she solved her dilemma in the most natural and satisfying way possible. She fell in love. Of course they talked. In fact, they had a most enjoyable dinner. Rutilius Rufus leaned back on his left elbow and let them have the floor, tickled at his own cleverness in working out which young man among the hundreds he knew would be the one to appeal to his precious ocean pearl. It went without saying that he liked young Gaius Julius Caesar enormously, and expected good things of him in future years; he was the very finest type of Roman. But then, he came from the finest type of Roman family. And, being a Roman of the Romans himself, Publius Rutilius Rufus was particularly pleased that if the attraction between young Gaius Julius Caesar and his niece came to full flower as he confidently expected it would a quasi-familial bond would be forged between himself and his old friend Gaius Marius. The children of young Gaius Julius Caesar and his niece Aurelia would be the first cousins of the children of Gaius Marius. Normally too diffident to quiz anyone, Aurelia forgot all about manners, and quizzed young Gaius Julius Caesar to her heart's content. She found out that he had been in Africa with his brother-in-law Gaius Marius as a junior military tribune, and been decorated on several occasions a Corona Muralis for the battle at the Muluchath citadel, a banner after the first battle outside Cirta, nine silver phalerae after the second battle outside Cirta. He had sustained a severe wound in the upper leg during this second battle, and had been sent home, honorably discharged. None of this had she found easy to prise out of him, for he was more interested in telling her of the exploits of his elder brother, Sextus, in the same campaigns. This year, she found out, he was appointed a moneyer, one of three young men who in their presenatorial years were given an opportunity to learn something of how Rome's economy worked by being put in charge of the minting of Rom
e's coins. "Money disappears from circulation," he said, never before having had an audience as fascinating as fascinated. "It's our job to make more money but not at our whim, mind you! The Treasury determines how much new money is to be minted in a year; we only mint it." "But how can something as solid as a coin disappear?" asked Aurelia, frowning. "Oh, it might fall down a drain hole, or be burned up in a big fire," said young Caesar. "Some coins just plain wear out. But most coins disappear because they're hoarded. And when money is hoarded, it can't do its proper job." “What is its proper job?'' asked Aurelia, never having had much to do with money, for her needs were simple and her parents sensitive to them. “To change hands constantly,'' said young Gaius Caesar. "That's called circulation. And when money circulates, every hand it passes through has been blessed by it. It buys goods, or work, or property. But it must keep on circulating." "So you have to make new money to replace the coins someone is hoarding," said Aurelia thoughtfully. "However, the coins being hoarded are still there, really, aren't they? What happens, for instance, if suddenly a huge number of them which have been hoarded are are un-hoarded?" "Then the value of money goes down." Having had her first lesson in simple economics, Aurelia moved on to find out the physical side of coining money. "We actually get to choose what goes on the coins," said young Gaius Caesar eagerly, captivated by his rapt listener. "You mean the Victory in her biga?" "Well, it's easier to get a two-horse chariot on a coin than a four-horse one, which is why Victory rides in a biga rather than a quadriga," he answered. "But those of us with a bit of imagination like to do something more original than just Victory, or Rome. If there are three issues of coins in a year and there mostly are then each of us gets to pick what goes on one of the issues." "And will you pick something?" Aurelia asked. "Yes. We drew lots, and I got the silver denarius. So this year's denarius will have the head of Iulus the son of Aeneas on one side, and the Aqua Marcia on the other, to commemorate my grandfather Marcius Rex," said young Caesar. After that, Aurelia discovered that he would be seeking election as a tribune of the soldiers in the autumn; his brother, Sextus, had been elected a tribune of the soldiers for this year, and was going to Gaul with Gnaeus Mallius Maximus. When the last course was eaten, Uncle Publius packed his niece off home in the well-protected litter, as he had promised. But his masculine guest he persuaded to stay a little longer. "Have a cup or two of unwatered wine," he said. "I'm so full of water I'm going to have to go out now and piss a whole bucket.'' "I'll join you," said the guest, laughing. "And what did you think of my niece?" asked Rutilius Rufus after they had been served with an excellent vintage of Tuscania. "That's like asking whether I like living! Is there any alternative?" "Liked her that much, eh?" "Liked her? Yes, I did. But I'm in love with her too," said young Caesar. "Want to marry her?" "Of course I do! So, I gather, does half of Rome." "That's true, Gaius Julius. Does it put you off?" "No. I'll apply to her father her Uncle Marcus, I mean. And try to see her again, persuade her to think kindly of me. It's worth a try, because I know she liked me." Rutilius Rufus smiled. "Yes, I think she did too." He slid off the couch. "Well, you go home, young Gaius Julius, tell your father what you plan to do, then go and see Marcus Aurelius tomorrow. As for me, I'm tired, so I'm going to bed."
1. First Man in Rome Page 43