"Diogenes, what have you to say?" I asked.
Manius Silva stepped forward. "As the citizen patron of Diogenes, I will answer these charges, noble Praetor. The splendid Diogenes is honest and blameless, as all citizens of Baiae are quite aware, and he speaks only the truth."
Here there was muffled laughter from the many bystanders. To hear a Cretan described as honest, blameless, and truthful was a rare joke.
"Order, there," shouted my chief lictor. The mirth subsided and Roman justice resumed its progress.
"Each of you will have his say," I proclaimed. "But I don't intend to waste the rest of the day hearing a wrangle over perfume. This trade, I remind you, is strictly regulated by the sumptuary laws, which are being rigorously enforced this year. Each of you has until the fall of a single ball to state his case."
I nodded to the court timekeeper, and the old slave pulled the plug on his water clock. This clever device released water at a measured rate and, by a subtle mechanism, dropped steel balls at regular intervals. These fell into a brazen dish, making a loud clatter.
"Celsius," I said, "you may begin."
The man cleared his throat ostentatiously and withdrew a roll of papyrus from the folds of his toga and opened it. "The lying, counterfeiting Cretan rogue Diogenes, in violation of the most sacred rules of the Brotherhood of Narcissus, the ancient guild of perfumers, has brazenly concocted a number of the costliest scents, using cheap and inferior ingredients, and passing off these noisome substances as genuine, sells them at the full price, as regulated by the-" he made a half turn and bowed in my direction "-sumptuary laws." This raised a laugh.
"The scents thus falsified include those known as Pharaoh's Delight, Babylonian Lilac, Tears of the Moon, Zoroaster's Rapture, Milk from Aphrodite's Breast, Gardens of Ninevah, Illyrian Blossom,-"
"Enough," I told him. "We don't need a whole roster of the smells that drive us poor husbands to bankruptcy. Why do you believe that Diogenes has been counterfeiting these fragrances, which, I hear, are largely made of things like whale vomit and afterbirths and anal glands and other revolting substances."
He rerolled his papyrus with a frown. "Sir, that is base calumny. Ambergris, for instance, has almost no scent of its own. It merely stabilizes-"
"I don't want to hear perfumer's shoptalk!" I barked. "I want to hear
evidence!"
"Well, then. Certain persons in my employ have told me that, secretly, Diogenes buys up great loads of flower petals, lemon peel, cedar oil, and other fragrant but common substances and in a kitchen of his manufactory blends them with distilled wine and pure oil until he achieves an approximation of the great perfumes, at least close enough to deceive the nose of one unskilled in perfumery."
"And who told you this?" I demanded.
"Certain persons employed in this nefarious process."
Silva leapt to his feet. "Praetor, I object! The word of suborned slaves is worthless!"
"Sit down," I said. "You shall have your turn presently. Celsius, the word of suborned slaves is worthless. You'll have to do better than that."
He sputtered. "What sort of evidence would satisfy you, Praetor?"
"You don't have to satisfy me," I told him, "but you must satisfy this jury." I waved a hand toward the eighty or ninety men who sat on benches looking bored. Under the Sullan constitution these were all equites with a minimum property assessment of four hundred thousand sesterces. In reality, I suspected that they would rather see a bribe than evidence, but I wasn't going to let it be that way.
"Perhaps," I said, "you might produce some of this fake perfume and explain to us how it differs from the real thing."
"I–I did not come prepared for this!"
"That was thoughtless of you."
"Besides, Praetor, you are not a perfumer. How would you know the
difference?"
"If it takes a professional to tell the difference between real and fake," I demanded, "why are we paying so much money for this stuff?"
He almost yelled an answer, caught himself, then went on in a reasonable tone. "Praetor, we have wandered rather far from the matter of this lawsuit."
"I suppose so," I admitted. "I could bring my wife. She has an infallible nose for perfume."
"Praetor-" Just then the ball fell into the dish with a resounding clang. "This is not just!" he squawked. "I did not get to present my case!"
"We'll let Diogenes have his say anyway," I said. "If you're in luck, he'll bungle it worse than you did. Silva, have you engaged an advocate?"
He stood and adjusted his toga grandly. "Hardly necessary, Praetor. If it meets with your approval, I shall speak on behalf of my friend Diogenes."
"You don't need my approval. If you are prepared, speak up." I nodded to the timekeeper and he restarted the water clock.
"First, Praetor, judges of Baiae, and good men of the jury, allow me to point out that this man Celsius is a jealous business rival of Diogenes, so his testimony is suspect from the first word. Why would he bring suit against Diogenes unless he was losing business to my friend?
"The truth is that Diogenes offers these famous perfumes to the public not at an inflated price but rather at a lower price than other perfumers can profitably accept. They imagine that he can do this only by counterfeiting, but in fact it is because he is a far better businessman than they."
He made an expansive gesture toward the audience. "While these men sit here in Baiae, overseeing their slaves and enjoying the comforts of our lovely city, Diogenes spends a full half of every year in perilous travel, braving the wine-dark sea, the wind-driven sands of Ethiopia and Arabia, the savage inhabitants of far-flung lands, all to seek out the best purveyors of rare and costly perfumes and those obscure ingredients that go into the scents we blend, quite openly and honestly, for our domestic production.
"By thus taking the dangers, privations, and hardships upon himself, by not trusting middlemen and not paying their exorbitant fees, he is able to effect a considerable saving in each year's outlay, savings he is able to express in lower prices for his wares. Is this dishonest? No, the dishonesty is in the envy and resentment of his rivals and these, Romans all, hope to sway the jury by attacking his Cretan origins. But I know that my fellow citizens are not persuaded by this calumnious slander.
"And as for those 'persons in his employ,' as he so delicately puts it, will a slave not lie for a few coins? Will a slave not sell out his master if offered the chance? Does the old saying not warn us, 'You have as many enemies as you have slaves'? That Celsius even stoops to such a practice is proof of his villainy!"
With the last word the ball clanged into the dish and the audience applauded, jury included. He'd done extremely well. I might have been persuaded myself, had they not already tried to bribe me.
"There we have it," I announced. "There is no solid evidence in this case, just the arguments of two business rivals. Diogenes may be guilty of counterfeiting, but to this I say, what of it? As far as I am concerned, if you can't tell the difference between one scent and another, and you pay an exorbitant price just for its name, then you're an idiot and deserve to be fleeced.
"As for Celsius, any Roman citizen who can't outwit a Cretan is a poor credit to the descendants of Romulus. All in all, this whole case is an unworthy waste of time. That's just my opinion, though. The decision rests with you worthy equites of Baiae, who, I am certain, will render judgment in the highest traditions of Roman justice. Do keep in mind that, if Diogenes has tried to bribe you with samples of his perfume, he may have used counterfeit."