Was it my imagination, or was Cicero looking directly at me? So much for the surprise witness whom Herennius had promised to bring forth, the man whose honesty had awed even Cicero! With a single pre-emptive remark I was dismissed as a bribed perjurer. The attack was wasted, of course. I had already refused to appear as Clodia's surprise witness. But that was when I had cause to think that her poisoning was a sham, that she had borrowed the gorgon's hair from Bethesda to deceive me. Now it seemed that she truly had been poisoned. I glanced at her face and saw how listless she still seemed. Had she really come so close
to death?
"For my part," Cicero continued, "I have no intention of troubling you with any witnesses. The facts of the case are solid and unshakable. The truth doesn't hinge on what a given witness may or may not say. What value is 'evidence' that can be distorted and manipulated or purchased outright? I prefer to use the rational method, rebutting error with proof, answering falsehoods with facts, laying everything open to the harsh scrutiny of reason.
"You've just heard my colleague Marcus Crassus do exactly that. He took on the charges about Caelius's role in the disturbances at Neapolis and Puteoli with such clear elucidation that I wish he had also dealt with the question of Dio's murder. But really, what more is there to be said about that matter? We all know the ultimate perpetrator of the crime. We also know that he fears no retribution and doesn't even bother to deny what he's done. The man's a king, after all, and not subject to Roman justice. Furthermore, the fellow who was accused of being that king's agent-Publius Asicius-has already stood trial. He was found innocent. Some say the trial was tainted, but I say that's nonsense-and I should know, as I defended Asicius myself. Now the prosecutors are trying to make us think that Caelius was another of the king's agents, that he was Asicius's confederate in that terrible murder. Where have the prosecutors been for the last few months? Could it be that they never got the news that Asicius was acquitted? What a waste of their time, and yours, judges, for them to try to link Caelius with Asicius, since Asicius was found innocent!" Cicero threw up his hands in exasperation.
"Let us move on to the heart of the matter. The prosecution has said a great deal about character. I agree absolutely that character is the central issue here, though not necessarily the character of Marcus Caelius. Yesterday, judges, I saw how closely you followed the arguments of my friend Lucius Herennius. He said a great deal about financial irresponsibility, unbridled lust, immorality, and other youthful vices. Herennius is usually a mild-mannered fellow, tolerant, urbane, very temperate and modern in his outlook. But here in court yesterday he seemed to turn into one of those frowning, moralizing, upright old tutors who made us quiver with dread when we were boys. He called Marcus Caelius to task in terms harsh enough to make even the sternest father blanch. He went on and on about the evils of wild living until even I began to quail a bit. Was it proper, he demanded to know, that I should defend a man who has sometimes accepted dinner invitations, who has gone for walks in fashionable gardens along the Tiber, who has on one or two occa-sions in his life splashed on scent from a bottle, who has even gone wading in mixed company down at the beaches at Baiae? Such appalling behavior is unforgivable!
"Or is it? Come, Herennius, I think we all know of men who have indulged in a bit of high living in their youth, who have then turned around and made themselves into perfectly respectable citizens. Everyone agrees that young men must be allowed a certain amount of recklessness. Nature has given them strong sexual appetites, and as long as they indulge those appetites without wrecking someone else's home, the wise thing is to let nature run its course. Understandably, those of an older generation like myself are concerned over the troubles that can arise from the excesses of youth. But it seems to me unfair, Herennius, that you should exploit our reasonable concern to stir up suspicion and prejudice against a particular young man. You recite a whole catalogue of vices to incite our moral abhorrence, but your posturing distracts us from the actual person of Marcus Caelius. He is no more guilty of such excesses than most young men. He deserves our indulgence no less. He should not be condemned for the failings of his entire generation!
"Let us move on to something more specific, namely this business about gold and poison. Both of these alleged transactions revolve around the same person: supposedly, the gold was taken from Clodia and the poison was given to her. Now here at least we have some genuine ac-cusations! All the other charges in this case amount to innuendos and insults, better suited to a shouting match than to a sober court of law. Saying that Caelius seduces other men's wives, that he brawls and takes bribes and so on and so forth-these are slanders, not accusations, groundless slurs of the sort uttered by prosecutors who tend to let their blustering get out of control. But about these last two charges, concerning the gold and the poison, there's something a bit more tangible. Yes, I sense that there must be something to these accusations-or rather, someone behind them, a certain individual with a very deliberate goal.
"Here's the first story: Caelius needed gold and got it from Clodia- with no witnesses about, mind you. Proof, anyone would think, of considerable friendship between them. The second story: Caelius decided to murder Clodia, got hold of some poison, bribed collaborators, fixed a time and place to convey the poison to those who would administer it. Evidence this time of overpowering hatred!
"Judges, this entire case revolves around Clodia, a woman of high birth-and low reputation. I'm not here to rake up scandal, and I get no enjoyment from impugning the virtue of a Roman lady. However, since the whole case against my client originates from this woman, and since it's my duty to defend my client, I have no choice but to deal with the accusations as forthrightly as I can. Still, in talking about this woman I will strive to say no more than is absolutely necessary to refute the charges. Indeed, I feel obliged to watch what I say very carefully, since everyone knows of the unfortunate enmity that exists between myself and this woman's husband."
There was a burst of laughter. Cicero pretended to look confused. "Oh, did I say husband? I meant to say her brother, of course; I can't imagine why I'm always making that mistake." He shrugged and smiled. "Well then, my apologies, judges, for having to drag a lady's name into these proceedings. Really, I never imagined I should find myself in a court of law fighting with a woman-especially this woman, who is said to be the friend of every man she meets."
He waited for the laughter to die down. The crowd had shifted and I was able to see Clodia again. Her face was stiff but even from a distance I could see the alarm in her eyes. She had begun to realize the full magnitude of the mistake she had made in taking her grievances against Caelius into a public arena.
Cicero cleared his throat. "Let me begin by asking the lady this: shall I lecture her in the stern manner of our forefathers, or in a milder, more moderate fashion? If it's the former, then I should call on the dead to do the lecturing, one of those stern-looking, full-bearded fellows who gaze down on us from old statues. Why not one of the lady's own ancestors? Appius Claudius the Blind would be appropriate, since he won't have to suffer the pain of looking at her."
There was laughter, then a murmur of anticipation as Cicero slipped into the role of the blind ancestor, narrowing his eyes, holding up his arms, removing all traces of the comic from his voice.