Roma.The novel of ancient Rome - Saylor Steven - Страница 113
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Menenia covered her face and began to weep. The lictor leered at her. “Are you going to miss the old Stoic that much? He looks a bit decrepit for stud service. You’re still a handsome enough mare. Surely you could find a strong young Roman to mount you!”
The man looked sidelong at Lucius; the insult was aimed as much at him as at his mother, daring him to strike back. Lucius clenched his fists and bowed his head, seething with outrage and shame.
As soon as the lictors had departed, Menenia gripped his arm. “Follow them,” she pleaded. “Do whatever you can for Blossius!”
“Mother, there’s nothing anyone can do.”
“Then at least see where they take him and what they do to him. I won’t be able to stand it, if he simply vanishes and I never know what happened. Please, Lucius, I beg you!”
Unable to stand her sobbing, Lucius ran from the house. His heart pounding, he followed the lictors at a safe distance and watched as they entered house after house on the Palatine, arresting one man after another. The prisoners were tied together and herded in single file down a winding path to the Forum.
Following the captives, Lucius witnessed a sight that seemed more appropriate to a nightmare than to the Forum in broad daylight. While a circle of well-dressed men, some of them senators, looked on and jeered, lictors forced a man in tattered, bloody garments into a wooden box that was scarcely big enough to contain him. Before they closed the lid, they emptied a jar full of writhing vipers inside. Even muffled by the box, the man’s screams echoed across the Forum. The circle of watchers banged on the box with sticks and laughed.
The captives were dragged before an open-air tribunal. Lucius joined the crowd of spectators, standing toward the back and trying not to draw attention.
The judges on the platform included Scipio Nasica, who led the questioning. Blossius was the first prisoner to be interrogated.
“You are Blossius of Cumae, the Stoic philosopher?” said Nasica.
“You know I am.”
“Simply answer the question. There is one protocol for questioning citizens, and another for foreigners. Are you Blossius of Cumae?”
“I am. You call me a foreigner, but I’m a native-born Italian.”
“Italy is not Roma.”
“Nonetheless, I am of noble Campanian blood.”
Nasica raised an eyebrow. “Yes, the tribunal is well aware of your ancestors among the Blossii who betrayed Roma and induced their fellow Campanians to take up arms with Hannibal.”
Blossius sighed. “That was a very long time ago.”
“Perhaps. You come from Cumae, do you not?”
“Yes.”
“As I said, Italy is not Roma-and Cumae can scarcely be considered part of Italy. Cumaeans speak Greek. They practice Greek vices. They send philosophers to spread polluted Greek ideas here in Roma.”
“When Tiberius Gracchus was a boy, I taught him virtue, not vice. When he became a man, I offered him counsel and guidance-”
“The tribunal has no interest in your dubious career. We are investigating a very real sedition, not your imaginary philosophy. We are chiefly interested in learning what you know about the activities of the would-be king, Tiberius Gracchus, and his recent attempt to overthrow the state.”
“This is absurd! There was no such attempt.”
“Were you present when Tiberius Gracchus met with the Pergamene ambassador who delivered the royal testament of the late King Attalus?”
“I was.”
“And did you witness Tiberius Gracchus receive the diadem and purple cloak of the king?”
“Yes. But-”
“Did he not put the diadem his head?”
“Perhaps, briefly, as a sort of joke-”
“Did you not, at the behest of Tiberius Gracchus, draw up a ledger for disbursing the treasure bequeathed to Roma by King Attalus?”
“That ledger was purely hypothetical and contingent upon-”
“I realize, Blossius, that you are not used to answering questions with a simple yes or no. How you philosophers love to hear yourselves speak! Perhaps, to expedite this testimony, I should order your tongue to be removed. Then you can answer by tapping your foot on the ground-once for yes, twice for no.”
Blossius turned pale. The spectators erupted in laughter. Standing among them, Lucius cringed and longed to make himself invisible.
As the interrogation continued, it became clear that Nasica’s purpose was not so much to incriminate Blossius as to bolster his own rationale for taking action against Tiberius. To one leading question after another, he compelled Blossius to answer yes or no.
“From your answers, I believe the tribunal must conclude that any and all crimes you committed against the Roman state were carried out at the behest of Tiberius Gracchus. Is that correct?”
Blossius sighed. “How can I answer such a question?”
“I shall restate it. Any action you undertook affecting the Roman state, you undertook at the behest of Tiberius Gracchus. Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“Very well. One final question: What if Tiberius Gracchus had ordered you to set fire to the Capitoline? Would you have done so?”
“This is madness! Tiberius would never have given such an order.”
“Answer the question!”
Blossius gritted his teeth. “If Tiberius had ordered such a thing, then it would have been the right thing to do, because Tiberius never gave an order that was not in the best interest of the people!”
Nasica sat back and crossed his arms, making a great show of his disgust. “There you have it-the philosopher speaks, and we can see just how corrupt and insidious his ideas truly are! My questioning is done. Is there any man present who wishes to offer testimony on behalf of the accused?” He gazed at the spectators. Lucius lowered his face and hid himself in the crowd.
The judges on the platform conferred briefly, then Nasica rose and addressed the spectators. “We declare that Blossius of Cumae has testified freely and truthfully regarding the recent sedition perpetrated by Tiberius Gracchus. We further declare that Blossius has, by his own words, discredited himself, his teachings, and anyone who was ever his pupil. If he were a citizen, he would be put to death for treason, but since he is merely a foreigner, he will be exiled from the city for life. He is free to depart from this tribunal. He must leave Roma before sunrise, or else face immediate execution. Bring forth the next prisoner!”
“Not a single question about my beliefs! Not a single accusation having anything to do with Stoicism, or the values I taught Tiberius! The arrogance of those men! I, Blossius of Cumae, am too insignificant even to bother executing!”
Blossius had packed his belongings at the house of Cornelia. He had come to Menenia’s house to say good-bye.
“I should go with you. There’s nothing for me here.” Menenia’s voice was dull and lifeless. The terror of Blossius’s arrest, the relief that he had been set free, and then the cruel news of his exile had utterly worn her out.
“Nonsense,” said Blossius. “Your son is here. Did we not conclude, once upon a time, that a woman’s greatest role is to be a mother?”
“That was Cornelia’s conclusion, not mine.”
“Cornelia needs your friendship more than ever. The loss of Tiberius has devastated her.”
Menenia shook her head. “I should go with you.”
“No, beloved. Exile is not for you.”
Lucius stood nearby, saying nothing. He had been right, and here was the proof-Tiberius’s radical politics had ended in disaster for himself and all those associated with him. But being right gave Lucius no satisfaction. He felt only shame and bitterness.
“Where will you go, Blossius?” asked Menenia.
“First, I’ll take a boat downriver to Ostia-”
“In the dead of night?”
Blossius grunted. “That’s when traffic on the river is busiest these days. I won’t be the only man fleeing the city! At Ostia, I’ll board the first ship heading east. There must be some monarch, somewhere in Greece or Asia, who’ll offer me asylum-a man who’s sympathetic to Stoic teachings…a man who’s unafraid of Roma…”
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