John Williams - Augustus

It was raining, I remember-a gray day. There was a small hut of unhewn stone a few yards away from the bridge, and we made our way toward that, meeting Antonius and Lepidus at the door. Before we entered, Lepidus looked at us for weapons, and Octavius smiled, saying to him:

"We shall not harm each other. We have come here to destroy the assassins; we have not come to mimic them."

We stooped to enter the low door, and Octavius sat at the rough table in the center of the room, with Antonius and Lepidus on either side of him. You realize, of course, that a general agreement had been made even before we met: Octavius, Antonius, and Lepidus were to form a triumvirate modeled upon that of Julius Caesar, Gnaeus Pompeius, and Crassus, made nearly twenty years before; this triumviral power was to last for nvc years. This power would give them the rule of Rome, with the right to appoint urban magistrates and command the provincial armies. The provinces of the West (Cassius and Brutus held those of the East) were to be divided among the triumvirs. We had already accepted what was by far the most modest portion-the two Africas, and the islands of Sicily, Sardinia, and Corsica-and the possession of even those was in serious doubt since Sextus Pompeius illegally held Sicily and controlled nearly the whole of the Mediterranean; but land was not what we wanted from the compact. Lepidus retained what he had previously commanded: Narbonensis and the two Spains. And Antonius had the two Gauls, by far the richest and most important of the divisions. Behind it all, of course, was the necessity of our combining forces so that we might conquer Brutus and Cassius in the east and thus punish the murderers of Julius Caesar and bring order to Italy.

It became quickly clear that Lepidus was Antonius's creature. He was a pompous and fatuous man, though if he did not speak he made quite an imposing figure. You know the type- he looked like a senator. Antonius let him drone on for a few minutes, and then he made an impatient gesture.

"We can get to the details later," he said. "We have more important business now." He looked at Octavius. "You know that we have enemies."

"Yes," Octavius said.

"Even though the whole Senate was bowing and scraping when you left, you can be sure they're plotting against you now."

"I know," Octavius said. He was waiting for Antonius to continue.

"And not only in the Senate," Antonius said. He got up and walked restlessly about the room. "All over Rome. I keep remembering your Uncle Julius." He shook his head. "You can't trust anybody."

"No," Octavius said. He smiled softly.

"I keep thinking of them-soft, fat, rich, and getting richer." He pounded his fist on the table, so that some of the papers there were jarred to the clay floor. "And our soldiers are hungry, and will get hungrier before the year's out. Soldiers don't fight on empty stomachs and without something to look forward to after it's all over."

Octavius was watching him.

Antonius said: "I keep remembering Julius. If he had just had a little more resolve in dealing with his enemies." He shook his head again. There was a long silence.

"How many?" Octavius asked quietly.

Antonius grinned and sat down at the table again. "I have thirty or forty names," he said negligently. "I imagine Lepidus has a few of his own."

"You've discussed this with Lepidus."

"Lepidus agrees," Antonius said.

Lepidus cleared his throat, stretched his arm out so that his hand rested on the table, and leaned back. "It is with much regret that I have come to the conclusion that this is the only course open to us, unpleasant though it may be. I assure you, my dear boy, that-"

"Do not call me your dear boy." Octavius did not raise his voice; like his face, it was totally without expression. "I am the son of Julius Caesar, and I am consul of Rome. You will not call me boy again."

"I assure you-" Lepidus said, and looked at Antonius. Antonius laughed. Lepidus fluttered his hands. "I assure you, I intended no-no-"

Octavius turned away from him and said to Antonius: "So it will be a proscription, as it was with Sulla."

Antonius shrugged. "Call it what you want to. But it's necessary. You know it's necessary."

"I know it," Octavius said slowly. "But I do not like it."

"You'll get used to it," Antonius said cheerfully, "in time."

Octavius nodded absentiy. He drew his cloak more tightly about his body, and got up from the table and walked to the window. It was raining. I could see his face. The raindrops hit the window casement and splashed on his face. He did not move. It was as if his face were stone. He did not move for a long time. Then he turned to Antonius and said:

"Give me your names."

"You will support this," Antonius said slowly. "Even though you don't like it, you will support it."

"I will support it," Octavius said. "Give me your names."

Antonius snapped his fingers, and one of his attendants handed him a paper. He glanced at it, and then looked up at Octavius, grinning.

"Cicero," Antonius said.

Octavius nodded. He said slowly: "I know that he has caused us some trouble and that he has offended you. But he has given me his word that he will retire."

"Cicero's word," Antonius said, and spat on the floor.

"He is an old man," Octavius said. "He can't have many more years."

"One more year-six months-a month is too long. He has too much power, even in his defeat."

"He has done me harm," Octavius said, as if to himself, "yet I am fond of him."

"We're wasting time," Antonius said. "Any other name-" he tapped the roll of paper "-I'll discuss with you. But Cicero is not negotiable."

Octavius almost smiled, I think. "No," he said, "Cicero is not negotiable."

He seemed to lose interest, then, in what they said. Antonius and Lepidus wrangled over names, and occasionally asked for his assent. He would nod absently. Once Antonius asked him if he did not want to add his own names to the list, and Octavius replied: "I am young. I have not yet lived so long as to acquire that many enemies."

And so, late that night, in the lamplight that flickered with every movement of the air, the list was drawn up. Seventeen of the richest and most powerful senators were to be at once condemned to death and their fortunes confiscated; and a hundred and thirty more were to be proscribed immediately thereafter, and their names published, so that Rome might find limits in which to contain its fear.

Octavius said: "If it is to be done at all, it must be done without delay."

And then we slept, like common soldiers, wrapped in our blankets, on the clay floor of the hut-it having been agreed that none of us would speak to our armies until all the details of the compact were settled.

As you know, my dear Livy, much has been said and written ofthat proscription, both in blame and praise; and it is true that the prosecution of the affair did get rather badly out of hand. Antonius and Lepidus kept adding names to the list, and a few of the soldiers used the confusion to settle their own enmities and to enrich themselves; but such is to be expected. In the matter of passion, whether of love or war, excess is inevitable.

Yet I have always been bewildered when, in the ease of peace, men raise the questions of praise or blame. It seems to me now that both judgments are inappropriate, and equally so. For those who thus judge do not judge so much out of a concern for right or wrong as out of a protest against the pitiless demands of necessity, or an approval of them. And necessity is simply what has happened; it is the past.

We slept the night, and rose before dawn-and now, my friend, I approach that sorrow of which I spoke at the beginning of this letter. It was dread of that approach, perhaps, which invited me to this easy philosophizing, for which I trust you will forgive me.