Roma - Saylor Steven - Страница 41
- Предыдущая
- 41/145
- Следующая
Titus sighed. “There have been abuses against the plebs. Once, in the year of the famine, I saw an old veteran being hounded by the hired ruffians of a senator. The veteran was crippled and in rags. He may have owed the senator money, but he clearly had no means to repay the debt, nor was he fit to work it off, no matter how much the ruffians shoved him about. The old man begged them for mercy. He finally tore off his tunic to show his battle scars—the wounds he had received fighting for Roma. If the tribunes had existed then, they could have put a stop to that shameful spectacle! And if the Temple of Ceres had existed, the veteran could have gone there for protection, because, among its other functions, it will serve as an asylum for the plebs.”
Gnaeus snorted. “I’ve heard that tired story about the abused veteran a hundred times before, and I’ve never believed it. No man worthy to be called a Roman veteran would show off his scars to escape paying a debt.”
Titus shook his head. “The temple will also house a center for distributing food to the poor. Does that offend you?”
“Indeed it does! How will the aediles purchase that food? With the confiscated wealth of patricians who’ve dared to offend the tribunes!” Gnaeus raised an eyebrow, then leaned back and crossed his arms. He exhaled a long breath. “Titus, dear Titus. I think I liked it better when I was a warrior and you were a builder, and we had no interests in common.”
“Membership in the Senate does not necessarily draw men together,” said Titus wryly. “But if my father-in-law and I can get along, despite our differences, then so can we, Gnaeus. You’ll find that I have few fixed opinions; in matter of politics, I follow the consensus. The only thing I truly care about is my passion for building.”
The conversation was joined by a feminine voice. “Did I hear you say something about distributing my food to the poor, Titus Potitius? Is my chickpea and millet porridge too common for your taste?”
Titus stood to acknowledge the appearance of Gnaeus’s mother in the garden. One needed to look no further than the graceful Veturia to see the model which had inspired her son’s erect posture and haughty demeanor. “Veturia! You misheard my comments. For your porridge, I have only the highest praise!”
“Good! I made it myself. No slave’s cooking will do for my son, on the rare occasion that finds him home from fighting Roma’s enemies!” From behind, she leaned over to embrace Gnaeus, who remained seated and reached up to grasp her hands and give her a kiss. The widow Veturia was still a very handsome woman, and Gnaeus unabashedly adored her. If only to make my mother proud of me, Gnaeus had once said, declaring his boyhood ambition to become Roma’s greatest warrior. At that moment, the mother of Coriolanus looked very proud indeed.
It was not every senator whose first speech before the august body set off a near-riot inside the chamber, and a full-scale riot outside.
The special appointment of the hero Coriolanus to the Senate was swiftly done. He was outfitted with a senatorial toga, and the day of his induction, if not as momentous as that of Appius Claudius, was nonetheless marked by all the proper ceremonies and speeches of welcome.
The fact that Gnaeus was a plebeian was not an impediment to his admission. A number of wealthy, powerful plebeians had been admitted into the ranks of the Senate. A small handful had even been elected consul, beginning with the great Brutus himself, though for any man not of patrician rank the attainment of the consulship posed a steep challenge. It was one thing to achieve nobilitas, the status of being among “the known,” which membership in the Senate conferred to a man and his descendents; it was quite another thing to attain the nobility’s highest honors. As Publius Pinarius had once remarked to Titus, approvingly, “To reach the very top in our brave new republic, it’s not enough merely to be noble; it’s necessary for that nobility to be covered with purple must like old wine, to be ancient and rusty like iron. That sort of status comes only with generations of breeding!”
If anyone might have opposed Gnaeus’s appointment to their ranks, it would have been the plebeian minority in the Senate who regularly put forth radical legislation and who knew very well where Gnaeus’s allegiances lay; but the plebs bided their time and did not speak against him. It was Gnaeus who spoke against them.
The more conservative senators had always opposed the establishment of the tribunes as protectors of the plebs. Some who had acquiesced to the necessity, in order to end the secession of the plebs, now regretted it. Yet no one, not even the reactionary Appius Claudius, dared to call publicly for the abolition of the tribunes. There was some question as to whether it would be even legal to do so; to interfere with the work of the tribunes was a crime punishable by exile or death, and could it not be argued that calling for their abolition amounted to interference with their work?
It was left to a man who knew no fear to do what Appius Claudius and his colleagues were afraid to do.
On the morning that Gnaeus was inducted into their ranks, the business of the Senate was commonplace. Funds needed to be appropriated to repair a section of the Cloaca Maxima. More funds were needed to rebuild a portion of a road south of the city rendered impassable by heavy rains. A section of the wall protecting the Aventine needed repair. There was debate as to who should receive these contracts; certain senators were notorious for getting the most lucrative contracts, and for overcharging, as well. After some acrimonious exchanges, the matter of funding was tabled and scheduled for further debate.
Titus Potitius was asked about progress on the Temple of Ceres. “I am happy to report that the work of the Greek artists Gorgasus and Damophilus is very nearly complete. Some of you have seen the results already. I believe I can say without exaggeration that our grandchildren, and their grandchildren, when they look upon this temple, will praise their ancestors for having created a gift of such exquisite beauty to the goddess. In years of bounty, we shall have a place to thank her. In lean years, we shall have a place to appeal to her favor.”
There was a murmur of approval throughout the chamber. Titus was well liked, and his competence was beyond dispute.
The attention of the Senate turned to its newest member, who had put in a request to speak. Gnaeus, who was sitting between Appius Claudius and Titus, rose to his feet and strode to the center of the chamber, so that he could move about freely and face all the senators in turn.
“My colleagues, let me tell you straight out that I am not a man of delicate words. My oratorical skills, such as they are, were not learned on the Field of Mars where the men standing for consul beg for votes. I am not accustomed to flattering anyone, least of all my inferiors. I learned to speak on the battlefield, exhorting other men to fight and to spill their blood for Roma. Today, I find myself on another battlefield, where the fate of Roma hangs in the balance. You, senators, are the warriors I must rally to take up arms and fight for Roma!
“Not long ago, when the plebs staged their so-called secession, one of your number, the distinguished Menenius Agrippa, made an impassioned speech to the people, trying to make them see reason. He told them a fable which went something like this: Long ago, the parts of the human body were not all in harmony, as they are now, but each had its own thoughts and ideas. The hard-working limbs and the vigilant eyes and ears noticed that the belly seemed to do nothing but lay idle and wait for the other parts to feed it. ‘We all work hard to satisfy the belly, but what does the belly do for us?’ they said. ‘Let us teach the belly a lesson!’ So they conspired to withhold all nourishment from it. The limbs refused to gather grain, the eyes refused to watch for game, the hands refused to take food to the mouth, the mouth refused to open. When the empty belly began to grumble—not a selfish demand, but a warning of danger!—the other parts merely laughed. How simpleminded, how spiteful were these resentful parts! Because, quite soon, the limbs began to wither, the hands began to tremble, the eyes and ears grew dull. The weakened parts fell prey to every manner of disease. Finally, they realized that the belly, too, had its essential part to play in the great scheme of things, for it was the belly that sustained the rest of the body, and without it the other parts could not continue to exist! The rebellion ceased. The natural order was restored. The body gradually returned to health, and the other parts never again conspired against the belly. When it asked to be fed, they all worked together to do so, without questioning.
- Предыдущая
- 41/145
- Следующая
