Cassius, the victor, was even paler than usual. His gaunt face spoke of nothing but sleepless nights and dark thoughts.
The two men reclined on dining couches facing each other. Only two tables separated the triclinia,set with a simple meaclass="underline" bread, eggs, cheese and beans. Antony had chosen a dense, blood-red wine and he mixed it personally in front of his guest, lingering deliberately at the task, taking care not to spill a single drop.
Antony began to speak: ‘Caesar dared too greatly and was punished. I. . understand the significance of your gesture. You did not mean to strike the friend, the benefactor, the man whose magnanimity spared your lives, but the tyrant, the man who broke the law, who reduced the republic to an insubstantial ghost. I understand you, then, and recognize that you are men of honour.’
Cassius gave a deep nod and a fleeting, enigmatic smile crossed his lips.
Antony continued, ‘But I am incapable of separating the friend from the tyrant. I’m a simple man and you must try to understand me. For me, Caesar was first and foremost a friend. Actually, now that he’s dead, lying cold and white as marble on his bier, only a friend.’
‘Each man is what he is,’ replied Cassius coldly. ‘Go on.’
‘Tomorrow the Senate will meet at the Temple of Tellus. Pompey’s Curia is still. . a bit of a mess.’
‘Go on,’ insisted Cassius, fighting his irritation.
‘Order must be restored. Everything must return to normal. I will propose an amnesty for all of you and you will be given governmental appointments in the provinces. If the Senate wishes to honour you they may do so. What do you say?’
‘These seem like reasonable proposals,’ replied Cassius.
‘I want only one thing for myself.’
Cassius stared at him suspiciously.
‘Allow me to celebrate his funeral. Allow me to bury him with honour. He made mistakes, it’s true, but he expanded the dominion of the Roman people enormously. He extended the confines of Rome to the shores of the Ocean and he was the Pontifex Maximus. What’s more. . he loved Brutus. Now he’s dead. Fine. His punishment was commensurate with his error. Let us deliver him to his final rest.’
Cassius bit his lower lip and remained silent for a considerable length of time. Antony gazed at him serenely with a questioning expression.
‘It’s not in my power to grant your request.’
‘I know, but you can convince the others. I’m sure you’ll succeed. I have done my duty and I’ve given proof of my good faith. Now you do your part. I won’t ask for anything else.’
Cassius stood, nodded in leaving and walked out of the room. The food was still on the table. He hadn’t touched a thing.
Portus Ostiae, Id. Mart., adfinem secundae vigiliae
The port of Ostia, 15 March, end of the second guard shift, midnight
Antony arrived at the port accompanied by a couple of gladiators, who remained at a distance.
A plank was lowered from the ship and he began to walk up it. The still water in the basin gave off a putrid stench and made Antony feel nauseous. The ship was about to set sail, the Queen on board, about to make her escape. The whole world was breaking up.
Cleopatra suddenly emerged from the aft cabin.
Regal even in this situation, she stood haughty, garbed in a pleated, transparent linen gown, her forehead crossed by a fine gold-leaf diadem, her arms bare, her lips red, her eyes lengthened with shadow nearly all the way to her temples.
‘Thank you for coming to bid me farewell,’ she said. She spoke softly, but in the silence of the night her voice rang out clearly nonetheless.
They were alone. There was no one else to be seen on the deck. And yet the ship was ready to set sail.
‘Where is he now?’
‘At home,’ replied Antony. ‘Watched over by his friends.’
‘Friends? Caesar had no friends.’
‘We were taken by surprise. No one could have imagined it would happen that day, in that way.’
‘But you were prudent, as I had asked.’ The Queen s voice was calm but ironic, like that of any powerful person satisfied at having corrupted a man, or brought him to his knees. ‘What will happen now?’
‘They are in trouble already. They have no plan, no design. They are dreamers and fools. I am the surviving consul. I’ve convened the Senate for tomorrow and I’ve urged them all to show up. Before his ashes are placed in the urn, they’ll be reduced to impotence. There will be a new Caesar, my queen.’
‘When that happens, come to me, Antony, and you will have everything you’ve always desired.’
Light as a dream, Cleopatra turned and vanished.
Antony went back to the shore.
The ship pulled away from the harbour and was soon swallowed up by the night. All that could be seen, for a short time, was the sail being raised at the helm, fluttering in the dark air like a ghost.
21
Romae, in templo Telluris, a.d. XVII Kakndas Apriles, hora secunda
Rome, the Temple of Tellus, 16 March, seven a.m.
The atmosphere at the beginning of the session, which was presided over by Mark Antony, consul in office, was tense and decidedly cold. There were plenty of drawn faces and hostile looks. Caesar’s supporters were still shaken, indignant and seething with resentment. The conspirators and their friends could not mask a certain arrogance. Cicero was among the first to take the floor. He had been absent the day of the plot but someone, in the confusion of the attack, had called out his name.
He was proud of having put down Catiline’s conspiracy in the past, so although he was not technically one of these conspirators he didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity of playing a leading role this time as well.
He spoke as the consummate orator he was. He who not so long ago had proposed that the senators shield Caesar with their very bodies should he be threatened, and had even had his proposal approved with a senatus consultum,was now singing the praises of those who had stabbed him to death with their daggers. He celebrated the courage of the tyrant-killers who had restored the liberty of the republic and the dignity of its highest assembly.
They had had every right to murder him; the despot had been justly punished according to the laws of the state. They should thus be immediately absolved of any criminal charges, since they had acted — at their own risk and peril — for the common good. He proposed, therefore, an amnesty for all those involved, and despite some disappointed grumbling, a vote was taken and this was approved.
But it was not enough to satisfy him. After exchanging a few words in an undertone with Cassius, Cicero said, ‘This unhappy time, this dark age of the republic, must be forgotten as soon as possible. The body of the tyrant must be buried as soon as possible, in private and at night. Such a burial should be considered an act of piety towards a dead man and nothing more.’
A murmur of protest rippled around the room.
It was the turn of Caesar’s supporters to speak now and Munatius Plancus took the floor.
‘We shall allow posterity to judge whether what happened at Pompey’s Curia was an act of justice. Those of us who were friends of Caesar are grieving and living a moment of bitter sorrow, but we are prepared to disregard these emotions so as not to fuel an endless round of hatred and revenge.
‘I would like to draw attention to the courage and generosity of consul Mark Antony. Distressed and saddened as he is over the death of a friend he loved deeply, he has refrained from taking revenge and has even offered his own sons as hostages, so that all quarrels and conflicts may come to an end, so that no more Roman lives are taken, so that the menace of a disastrous new civil war may be averted. I move that he be paid public tribute and that he be invited to make his thoughts known, here and now, within these sacred walls.’