'Rullus!' boomed the senate.
'Who alone is guaranteed a place as a commissioner?'
'Rullus!'
'Who wrote the bill?'
' Rullus! ' And the house collapsed in tears of laughter at its own wit, while poor Rullus flushed pink and looked this way and that as if seeking somewhere to hide. Cicero must have gone on for half an hour in this fashion, clause by clause, quoting the bill and mocking it and shredding it, in such savage terms that the senators around Caesar and on the tribunes' bench began to look distinctly grim. To think that he had had only an hour or so to collect his thoughts was marvellous. He denounced it as an attack on Pompey – who could not stand for election to the commission in absentia – and as an attempt to re-establish the kings in the guise of commissioners. He quoted freely from the bill – ' The ten commissioners shall settle any colonists they like in whatever towns and districts they choose, and assign them lands wherever they please ' – and made its bland language sound like a call for tyranny.
'What then? What kind of settlement will be made in those lands? What will be the method and arrangement of the whole affair? “Colonies will be settled there,” Rullus says. Where? Of what kind of men? In what places? Did you, Rullus, think that we should hand over to you, and to the real architects of your schemes' – and here he pointed directly at Caesar and Crassus – 'the whole of Italy unarmed, that you might strengthen it with garrisons, occupy it with colonies, and hold it bound and fettered by every kind of chain?'
There were shouts of 'No!' and 'Never!' from the patrician benches. Cicero extended his hand and averted his gaze from it, in the classic gesture of rejection. 'Such things as these I will resist passionately and vigorously. Nor will I, while I am consul, allow men to set forth those plans against the state which they have long had in mind. I have decided to carry on my consulship in the only manner in which it can be conducted with dignity and freedom. I will never seek to obtain a province, any honours, any distinctions or advantage, nor anything that a tribune of the people can prevent me from obtaining.'
He paused to emphasise his meaning. I had my head down, writing, but at that I looked up sharply. I will never seek to obtain a province. Had he really just said that? I could not believe it. As the implications of his words sank in, the senators began to murmur.
'Yes,' said Cicero, over the swelling notes of disbelief, 'your consul, on this first of January, in a crowded senate, declares that, if the republic continues in its present state, and unless some danger arises that he cannot honourably avoid meeting, he will not accept the government of a province.'
I glanced across the aisle to where Quintus was sitting. He looked as if he had just swallowed a wasp. Macedonia – that shimmering prospect of wealth and luxury, of independence from a lifetime of drudgery in the law courts – was gone!
'Our republic has many hidden wounds,' declared Cicero, in the sombre tone he always used in peroration. 'Many wicked designs of evil citizens are being formed. Yet there is no external danger. No king, no people, no nation is to be feared. The evil is confined entirely within our gates. It is internal and domestic. It is the duty of each of us to remedy it to the best of our power. If you promise me your zeal in upholding the common dignity, I will certainly fulfil the most ardent wish of the republic – that the authority of this order, which existed in the time of our ancestors, may now, after a long interval, be seen to be restored to the state.' And with that he sat down.
Well, it certainly was a memorable address, and accorded with Cicero's first law of rhetoric, that a speech must always contain at least one surprise. But the shocks were not over yet. It was the custom when the presiding consul had finished his opening remarks for him to call next upon his colleague to give his opinion. The loud applause of the majority, and the catcalls from the benches around Catilina and Caesar, had barely died away, when Cicero shouted out, 'The house recognises Antonius Hybrida!'
Hybrida, who was sitting on the front bench nearest Cicero, glanced sheepishly across at Caesar, then got to his feet. 'This bill that's been proposed by Rullus – from what I've seen of it – I have to say – in my opinion – given the state of the republic – it's really not such a good idea.' He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. 'So I'm against it,' he said, and sat down abruptly.
After a moment's silence a great noise poured out from the senate, made up of all kinds of emotions – derision, anger, pleasure, shock. It was clear that Cicero had just pulled off a remarkable political coup, for everyone had taken it as certain that Hybrida would support his allies the populists. Now he had reversed himself entirely, and his motivation could not be more obvious – with Cicero ruling himself out of the running for a province, Macedonia would be his after all! The patrician senators on the benches behind Hybrida were leaning forward and clapping him on the back in sarcastic congratulations, and he was squirming at their taunts and looking nervously across the aisle at his erstwhile friends. Catilina seemed stupefied, like a man turned to stone. As for Caesar, he simply leaned back and folded his arms and studied the ceiling of the temple, shaking his head and smiling slightly, while the pandemonium continued.
The rest of the session was an anticlimax. Cicero worked his way down the list of praetors and then began calling the former consuls, asking each his opinion of Rullus's bill. They split exactly along factional lines. Cicero did not even call Caesar: he was still too junior, having not yet held imperium. The only really menacing note was struck by Catilina. 'You have called yourself the people's consul,' he sneered at Cicero, when at long last his turn came to speak. 'Well, we shall see what the people have to say about that!' But the day belonged to the new consul, and when the light began to fade and he declared the session adjourned until after the Latin Festival, the patricians escorted him out of the temple and across the city to his home as if he were one of their own, rather than a despised 'new man'.
Cicero was in a great good humour as he stepped across the threshold, for nothing is more pleasing in politics than to catch your opponents off guard, and the defection of Hybrida was all that anyone could talk about. Quintus, however, was furious, and the moment the house was at last emptied of well-wishers, he turned on his brother with an anger I had never before witnessed. It was all the more embarrassing because Atticus and Terentia were also present.
'Why did you not consult any of us before giving away your province?' he demanded.
'What does it matter? The effect is what counts. You were sitting opposite them. Whom did you think looked sicker – Caesar or Crassus?'
But Quintus was not to be deflected. 'When was this decided?'
'To be honest, I've had it in mind ever since I drew the lot for Macedonia.'
At this, Quintus threw up his hands in exasperation. 'Do you mean to say that when we were talking to you last night, you'd already made up your mind?'
'More or less.'
'But why didn't you tell us?'
'First, because I knew you'd disagree. Second, because I thought there was still just a chance Caesar might produce a bill I could support. And third, because what I choose to do with my province is my business.'
'No, it's not just your business, Marcus, it's our business. How are we to pay off our debts without the income from Macedonia?'
'You mean, how are you to finance your campaign for the praetorship this summer?'
'That's unfair!'
Cicero seized Quintus's hand. 'Brother, listen to me. You will have your praetorship. And you won't acquire it through bribery, but through the good name of the Cicero family, which will make the triumph all the sweeter. You must see I had to separate Hybrida from Caesar and the tribunes? My only hope of piloting the republic through this storm is to keep the senate united. I can't have my colleague plotting behind my back. Macedonia had to go.' He appealed to Atticus and Terentia. 'Who wants to govern a province, in any case? You know I couldn't bear to leave you all behind in Rome.'