Roma - Saylor Steven - Страница 47
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“If you like looking at temples,” said the shepherd, “walk on a little ways to the crest of the hill. From there you can see the city. The highest thing you see is the Temple of Jupiter. Now that’s a temple! It sits on the Capitoline like a crown on the head of a king. Even from here, you can see how grand it is. Go on, have a look.”
Titus’s heart pounded in his chest. As he was still wont to do in moments of great emotion, even after all these years, Titus reached up to finger the talisman of Fascinus at this throat. Of course, it was not there. He had given it to his sleeping son on the night he left Roma. How was the boy? Did he still live? Did he prosper? Did he keep the ancient rites of Hercules, as had his ancestors before him?
“Go ahead,” said the shepherd. “Walk to the rise and have a look at the city.”
The ragged wanderer, saying nothing, turned around and walked in the opposite direction.
THE TWELVE TABLES
450 B.C.
“Another toast!” declared Lucius Icilius.
“What? Surely not another!” Lucius Verginius laughed heartily. He was a broad-shouldered bear of a man who greatly enjoyed wine, and his protest was purely for show.
“As your host, I must insist,” said Icilius. With a wave of his long, bony arm, he beckoned to the serving girl to refill the cups.
The occasion was a joyful one—a dinner party to celebrate the upcoming wedding of the son of Icilius, young Lucius, to Verginia, the daughter of Verginius. The marriage would unite two of the most distinguished plebeian families in Roma. The Verginii had been prominent in the city nearly as long as some patrician families. The branch of Lucius Verginius, while not wealthy, was famed for prowess in battle; in recent campaigns against the Sabines and the Aequi, Lucius Verginius had upheld the standards of bravery set by his ancestors. The Icilii were well-to-do, politically active, and full of vitality and ambition. Men from both families had served as tribunes of the plebs.
The marriage bond between the Icilii and the Verginii would strengthen both clans. It was a love match, as well; Lucius and Verginia had fallen for each other at first sight. Tonight, with the wedding only a few days away, the two families dined together under the roof of Icilius to celebrate their impending union.
Icilius raised his cup. “A toast to the mothers! We must never underestimate the power of a Roman matron. More than forty years ago, when the traitor Coriolanus marched on Roma, what was the only thing that could turn him back? Not swords, not walls, not even the abject groveling of the senators. Only a mother’s plea was powerful enough to save Roma. To the mothers of the bride and groom!”
“To the mothers!” agreed Verginius, raising his cup.
“Yes, to our mothers!” said young Lucius, his eyes sparkling from having drunk more wine than he was used to.
The subjects of the toast demurely lowered their eyes, and did not join in the drinking. Nor did the bridegroom’s younger sister, the darkly beautiful Icilia. Nor did young Verginia, who had never tasted wine. She needed no intoxicant to make her blue eyes sparkle or to add color to her cheeks, which were as smooth as rose petals. Verginia was as fair as Lucius was dark; she was short and voluptuous rather than tall and lean like her betrothed. Their physical differences only served to complement each other’s beauty; everyone agreed that they made a lovely couple.
Icilius drained his cup and wiped his mouth. “Now, you may wonder why, in such congenial company, I should mention the foul name of Coriolanus, which inspires loathing in the breast of any patriot.”
“Because it brings up the subject of your toast—a mother’s influence!” said Verginius, slurring his words slightly.
“Ah, yes, but more than that, I mention that accursed name to remind us of the great boon to Roma which was done by one of my relatives, the great tribune Spurius Icilius. It was Spurius who ran Coriolanus out of Roma. A mother may have kept the villain out, but an Icilius drove him away in the first place. I mention this, Verginius, to show you that the family into which your daughter is marrying, while it may not have a history as long as yours, has nonetheless made history. With an upstanding young scion like my boy Lucius, this family will continue to do so!”
“And why not, with the fine sons that my Verginia will give him!” cried Verginius.
Verginia blushed. So did Lucius, though he attempted a manly laugh to cover his self-consciousness. Icilia, whose skin was even darker than her brother’s, did not easily show a blush, but such talk clearly disturbed her; the others, if they noticed, ascribed the pained look on her face to maidenly modesty.
“But, more seriously—” Icilius paused; all his concentration was momentarily required to suppress a belch. The critical moment passed. “As I was saying, on a more serious note: Forty years have passed since the wicked Coriolanus dared to threaten the tribunes, and for that crime he was duly punished; and yet, in many ways, the strife between the classes is now fiercer than ever. Only rarely, these days, is a plebeian elected to the consulship, and this is no accident. The patricians grow more jealous of their privileges, not less. They lay down every possible impediment in order to prevent even the most qualified plebeian from attaining the higher magistracies. You know this is true, good Verginius.”
The other man nodded. “Regrettably, good Icilius, it is the truth.”
Lucius groaned. “No, Papa. No politics tonight!”
Icilius shushed him. “This is not politics, my boy. This is serious family talk. The Verginii and the Icilii represent the very best of the plebeians. The union of our families is much more than the betrothal of a beautiful girl and a fine young man; this marriage represents the hope of the future.
“Will there ever be lasting peace between the patricians and ourselves? We must start by admitting that there have been abuses on both sides. Since the days of Coriolanus, we plebs have staged no more secessions, but sometimes, perhaps, we have been too eager to use the power of the tribunes to punish arrogant patricians. Some tribunes have stirred up the populace unnecessarily, and have wielded their power recklessly. To be sure, more than a few patricians, through devious means, have eluded punishment and cheated justice. Failures and abuses on both sides have led to further recriminations, which in turn have led to more strife and discord.
“In these dark days, despite the best efforts of honest men, the two classes seem to be drawing further and further apart. We can only hope that the children of Lucius and Verginia will inherit a better Roma than the one in which their parents were born!”
“Hear, hear!” agreed Verginius. “Well said, Icilius! The Decemvirs themselves should be here tonight, to hear you speak.”
Young Lucius, feeling tipsy, raised his cup. “To the Decemvirs!”
His elders abruptly shot him a look that made Lucius feel quite small. But the mood was too jovial for the tense moment to prevail. Verginius smiled first, then Icilius.
“A toast to the Decemvirs, my son?” Icilius clucked his tongue. “A toast implies congratulations, and in the case of the Decemvirs, that would be premature. No one has yet seen the fruit of their labors, though our ten little Tarquinii have already put a bitter taste in the mouths of many good citizens.”
“The ten Tarquinii? That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?” said Verginius.
“Is it?” Icilius raised an eyebrow.
Two years earlier the discord in Roma had grown so extreme that patricians and plebeians alike had agreed to an extraordinary measure. Elections were cancelled, the Senate was disbanded, and the magistrates, including the tribunes, were relieved of their offices. A board of ten men—the Decemvirs—was given temporary power to rule the state and charged with the task of writing a comprehensive code of laws. It had sounded like a good idea at the time: Roma’s ten wisest men would determine why the state had come to a standstill, wield whatever power was necessary to resolve the problems, devise fair laws, and chisel those laws into stone for all to see. The plebs had long agitated for a written law code, believing that a clear list of offenses and an enumeration of citizens’ rights would do more than anything else to put an end to the arbitrary abuses of the patricians. But the process had dragged on for two years, without visible results, and the Decemvirs had grown careless and abusive with their power.
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