Soon there began a far grander fight than any that the professionals had shown, the German swinging his great sword and Cassius parrying with his shield and always trying to get in under the German's guard—but the fellow was as agile as he was strong and twice beat Cassius to his knees. The crowd was perfectly silent, as if it were a religious performance they were watching, and nothing was heard but the clash of steel on steel and the rattle of shields. Augustus said, "The German's too strong for him, I'm afraid. We shouldn't have permitted this. If Cassius gets killed it will create a bad impression on the frontier when the news gets there."
Then Cassius' foot slipped in a blood pool and he fell over on his back. The German straddled over him with a triumphant smile on his face and then... and then there was a roaring in my ears and a blackness before my eyes and I fainted away. The emotion of seeing men killed for the first time in my life, and then the combat between Roach and the Thessalian, in which I felt so strongly for Roach, and now this fight in which it seemed that it was I myself who was desperately battling for life with the German—it was too much for me. So I did not witness Cassius' wonderful recovery as the German lifted that ugly sword to crash in his skull, the quick upward thrust with the shield-boss at the German's loins, the sideways roll, and the quick decisive stab under the arm-pit. Yes, Cassius killed his man all right. Do not forget this Cassius, for he twice and three times plays an important part in this story.
As for me, nobody noticed that I had fainted for some time, and when they did I was already coming to. They propped me up again in my place until the show had formally ended. To have been carried out would have been a disgrace for everyone.
The next day the Games continued, but I was not there.
It was announced that I was ill. I missed one of the most spectacular contests ever witnessed in the amphitheatre, between an Indian elephant—they are much bigger than the African breed—and a rhinoceros. Experts betted on the rhinoceros, for although it was by far the smaller animal its hide was much thicker than the elephant's and it was expected to make short work of the elephant with its long sharp hom. In Africa, they were saying, elephants had learned to avoid the haunts of the rhinoceros, which holds undisputed sway in its own territory. This Indian elephant however—as Postumus described the fight to me afterwards—showed no anxiety or fear when the rhinoceros came charging into the arena, meeting him each time with his tusks and lumbering after him with clumsy speed when he retired discomfited. But finding himself unable to penetrate the thick armour of tne beast's neck as he charged, this fantastic creature had recourse to cunning. He picked up with his trunk a rough broom made of a thorn bush which a sweeper had left on the sand and darted it in his enemy's face the next time he charged: he succeeded in blinding first one eye and then the other. The rhinoceros, distracted with rage and pain, dashed here and there in pursuit of the elephant and finally ran full tilt against the wooden barrier, going right through it and shattering his hom and stunning himself on the marble barrier behind.
Then up came the elephant with his mouth open as if he were laughing and, first enlarging the breach in the wooden barrier, began trampling on his fallen enemy's skull, which he crushed in. He then nodded his head as if in time to music and presently walked quietly away. His Indian driver came running out with a huge bowl full of sweetmeats, which the elephant poured into his mouth while the audience roared applause. Then the beast helped the driver up on his neck, offering his trunk as a ladder, and trotted over to Augustus; where he trumpeted the royal salute—which these elephants are taught only to utter for monarchs—and knelt in homage. But, as I say, I missed this performance; That evening Livia wrote to Augustus: "MY DEAR AUGUSTUS, "Claudius' unmanly behaviour yesterday in fainting at the sight of two men fighting, to say nothing or the grotesque twitchings of his hands and head, which at a solemn festival in commemoration of his father's victories were all the more shameful and unfortunate, has at least had this advantage, that we can now definitely decide once and for all that except in the dignity of priest—for the vacancies in the colleges must be filled some/low and Plautius has managed to coach him well enough in his duties—Claudius is perfectly unfit to appear in public. We must be content to write him off as a loss, except perhaps for breeding purposes, for I hear he has now done his duty by Urgulanilla—but I won't be sure of that until I see the child, which may well be a monster like him.
"Antonia has to-day abstracted from his study what appears to be a notebook of historical material which he has been collecting for a life of his father; with it she found a painfully composed introduction to the projected work, which I send you herewith. You will observe that Claudius has singled out for praise his dear father's one intellectual foible—that wilful blindness of his to the march of time, the absurd delusion that the political forms that suited Rome when Rome was a small town at war with neighbouring small towns could be reestablished after Rome had become the greatest kingdom known since the days of Alexander, Look what happened when Alexander died and nobody could be found strong enough to succeed him as supreme monarch—why, the Empire simply fell to pieces.
But I should not waste my timeand yours in making historical platitudes. Athenodorus and Sulpicius, with whom I have just had a conference, say that they had not seen this introduction until I showed it them and agree on its extreme inadvisability. They swear that they have never put any subversive ideas into his head, and suggest that he must have got them from old books. Personally I think that he inherited them—his grandfather had the same curious infirmity, you remember—and it is just like Claudius to have chosen that one weakness to inherit and to have refused any legacy of physical or moral soundness! Thank God for Tiberius and Germanicus! There's no republican nonsense about them, so far as I know.
"Naturally I am instructing Claudius that he must desist from his biographical labours, saying that if he disgraces his father's memory by fainting at the solemn Games given in his honour, he is obviously unfit to write his life: let him find some other employment for his pen.
"LIVIA."
Ever since Pollio had told me about the poisoning of my father and grandfather I had been greatly perplexed. I could not make up my mind whether the old man had been talking senile nonsense, or joking, or whether he really knew something. Who but Augustus himself was sufficiently interested in the monarchy to have poisoned a nobleman merely because he believed in republican government? Yet I could not believe Augustus the murderer: poison was a mean way of killing, a slave's way, and Augustus would never have stooped to it. Besides, he was not a hypocrite and when he talked about my father it was always with admiration and affection. I consulted two or three recent histories, but they told me nothing that I had not already hdard from Germanicus of the circumstances of my father's death.
It was only a couple of days before the Games that I happened to be talking to our porter, who had been my father's orderly throughout his campaigns, The honest fellow had been drinking rather too much, because my father's name was on everyone's lips at the time and his veterans had come in for a good deal of reflected glory.
"Tell me what you know of my father's death," I said boldly. "Were there any stories current in the camp that he met his death other than by accident?" He replied: "I wouldn't say it to anybody, sir, but yourself, but I can trust you, sir. You're the son of your father and I never knew a man who didn't trust him. Yes, sir, there was a rumour going about and there was more in it than in most camp rumours. Your brave and noble father, sir, was poisoned, it's my sure belief. A certain Person, whose name I won't mention because you'll know it without my saying, was jealous of your father's victories and sent him an order of recall. That's not a story, or rumour, that's history. The order came when your father had broken his leg; not much of a damage either, and it was coming along well enough until that doctor fellow arrived from Rome, at the same time as the message, with his little bag of poisons in his hand. Who sent that doctor fellow? The same person who sent the message. Two and t
wo's four, isn't it, sir? We orderlies wanted to kill that doctor fellow but he got back safe to Rome under special escort."
When I read my grandmother Livia's note telling me to desist from writing my father's life, my perplexity increased. Pollio could surely not have meant to point to my grandmother as the murderess of her former husband and her son? It was unthinkable. And what could have been her motive? Yet when I came to consider the matter I could more easily believe that it was Livia than that it was Augustus.
That summer Tiberius needed men for his East German war, and levies were called for from Dalmatia, a province that had lately been quiet and docile. But when the contigent assembled it happened that the tax-collector was making his annual visit to those parts and exacting from the province not more than the sum fixed by Augustus but more than it could easily pay. There were loud protests of poverty. The tax-collector exercised his right of seizing good-looking children from the villages which could not pay and carrying them off to be sold as slaves. The fathers of some of the children thus seized were members of the contingent and naturally made a great outcry. The entire force revolted, killing their Roman captains. A Bosnian tribe rose in sympathy and soon the whole of our frontier provinces between Macedonia and the Alps was in a blaze.
Fortunately Tiberius was able to conclude a peace with the Germans, at their instance not his own—and march against the rebels. The Dalmatians would not meet him in a pitched battle but broke up into small columns and carried on a skillful guerrilla warfare. They were lightly armed and knew the country well and when winter came even dared to raid Macedonia.
Augustus at Rome could not appreciate the difficulties with which Tiberius had to contend and suspected him of purposely delaying operations for some secret private ends which he could not fathom. He decided to send out Germanicus, with an army of his own, to spur Tiberius to action.
Germanicus, who was now in his twenty-third year, had just entered, five years before the customary age, on his first City magistracy. The military appointment caused surprise: everyone expected Postumus to be chosen. Postumus had no magisterial appointment, but was busy on Mars Field training the recruits for this new army: he now bore the rank or regimental commander. He was three years younger than Germanicus, but his brother Gaius had been sent to govern Asia at the age of nineteen and had become a Consul in the year following. Postumus was by no means less capable than Gaius, it was agreed, and, after all, he was Augustus' single surviving grandson.
My own feelings on hearing the news, which had not yet been made public, were torn between joy on Germanicus' account and sorrow on Postumus'. I went to find Postumus and arrived at his quarters in the Palace at the same time as Germanicus. Postumus greeted us both affectionately and congratulated Germanicus on his command.
Germanicus said: "It is because of this that I have come, dear Postumus. You know well enough that I am very proud and glad to have been chosen, but military reputation is nothing to me if I injure you by it. You are as capable a soldier as I am and as Augustus' heir you should obviously have been chosen. With your consent I propose to go to him now and offer to resign in your favour. I'll point out the misconstruction that the City will be sure to put on his preference of me to you. It is not too late yet to make the alteration."
Postumus answered: "Dear Germanicus, you arc very generous and noble, and for that reason I shall speak frankly. You are right in saying that the City will treat this as a slight on me. The fact that your duties as a magistrate are being interrupted by the appointment, while I am perfectly free to be sent, aggravates the matter. But, believe me, the disappointment that I feel is amply recompensed by this further proof you have given me of your friendship; and I wish you a speedy recovery and every possible success."
Then I said: "If you will both forgive me for expressing an opinion, I think that Augustus has considered the situation more carefully than you give him credit for having done. From something I overheard my mother saying this ' morning, I gather that he suspects my uncle Tiberius of purposely prolonging the war. If he were to send Postumus out with the new forces, after that old history of misunderstanding between my uncle and Postumus' brothers, my uncle might be suspicious and offended. Postumus would seem like a spy and a rival. But Germanicus is his adopted son and would seem to be sent out merely as a remforcement. I don't think that there is more to be said than that Postumus will get his chance elsewhere, no doubt, and soon enough."
They were both very pleased with this new view of the matter, which did credit to them both, and we all parted on the most friendly terms.
That same night, or rather in the early hours of the following morning, I was working late in my room on the upper story of our house when I heard distant shouting and presently a slight scuffling noise from the balcony outside. I went to the door and saw a head appear over the top of the balcony and then an arm. It was a man in military dress, who threw his leg over the balcony and pulled himself up. I was paralysed for a moment, and the first wild thought that came into my head was; "It's an assassin sent by Livia." I was just going to shout for help when he said in a low voice: "Hush! It's all right. I'm Postumus."
"O Postumus! What a fright you gave me. Why do you come climbing in at this time of night like a burglar? And what's wrong with you? Your face is bleeding and your cloak's torn."
"I've come to say good-bye, Claudius."
"I don't understand. Has Augustus changed his mind? I thought the appointment had already been made public."
"Give me a drink, I'm thirsty. No, I'm not going to the wars. Far from it. I've been sent fishing."
"Don't talk in riddles. Here's the wine. Drink it quick and tell me what's wrong. Where are you going fishing?"
"Oh, to some small island. I don't think they've chosen it yet."
"You mean...?" My heart sank and my head swam.
"Yes, I'm being banished; like my poor mother,"
"But why? What crime have you committed?"
"No crime that can be officially mentioned to the Senate. I expect the phrase will be 'incurable and persistent depravity'. You remember that Pillow Debate?"
"O Postumusl Has my grandmother...?"
"Listen carefully, Claudius, for time is short. I am under close arrest but just now I managed to knock down two of my escort and break away. The Palace guard has been called out and every possible way of escape is blocked. They know I am somewhere in these buildings and they'll search every room. I felt I had to see you, because I want you to know the truth and not believe the charges that they have trumped up against me. And I want you to tell Germanicus everything. Send him my most loving greeting and tell him everything, exactly as I tell it you now. I don't care what anybody else thinks of me, but I want Germanicus and you to know the truth and think well of me."
"I'll not forget a word, Postumus. Quick, tell it me from the beginning."
"Well, you know that I've been out of favour with Augustus lately. I couldn't make out why, at first, but soon it was obvious that Livia was poisoning his mind against me.
He is extraordinarily weak where she is concerned. Imagine living with her for nearly fifty years and still believing every word she says! But Livia was not the only one in this plot.
Livilla was in it too."
"Livilla! Oh, I am so sorry!"
"Yes. You know how much I loved her and how much I have suffered on her account. You hinted once, about a year ago, that she wasn't worth my troubling about and you remember how angry I was with you. I wouldn't talk to you for days. I am sorry now that 1 was angry, Claudius. But you know how it is when one is hopelessly in love with someone. I didn't explain to you then that just before she married Castor she told me that Livia had forced the marriage on her and that really she loved only me. I believed her. Why shouldn't I have believed her? I hoped that one day something would happen to Castor and she and I would be free to marry. That's been on my mind day and night ever since. This afternoon, just after seeing you, I was sitting with her and Castor in
the grape-arbour by the big carp-pool. He began taunting me. I realise now that the whole thing had been carefully rehearsed beforehand between them. The first thing he said was: 'So Germanicus has been preferred to you, eh?' I told him that I considered it a wise appointment and that I had just congratulated Germanicus. Then he said in a jeering way: 'So it has your princely approval, has it? By the way, do you still expect to succeed your grandfather as Emperor?' I kept my temper for Livilla's sake but said that I did not think it decent to discuss the succession while Augustus was still alive and in full possession of his faculties. Then I asked him ironically whether he was offering himself as a rival candidate.
He said, with an unpleasant smile: 'Well, if I did, I expect I would have more chance of success than you. I usually get what I want. I use my brains. I won Livilla by using my brains. It makes me laugh when I think how easily I persuaded Augustus that you weren't a suitable husband for her. Perhaps I'll get other things I want too, that way.
Who knows?' This made me really hot. I asked him whether he meant that he had been telling lies about me.
He said: 'Why not, I wanted Livilla, and that's how I got her.' Then I turned to Livilla and asked her whether she had known about this. She pretended to be indignant and said that she knew nothing about it at all, but that she believed Castor capable of any crooked dealing. She forced out a tear or two and said that Castor was rotten through and through and that nobody could ever guess how much she had suffered from him, and that she wished she were dead."
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