Caesar

frightened rabbit.

The young Cato looked for a moment as if he would follow his brother-in-law, glanced across the table, caught my eye, and remained where he stood. Only one young man, whose name I did not know (it was Favonius, I later discovered) chose to follow Markie.

When they had gone, Cassius resumed his couch and motioned to us to do likewise. Then he began to speak.

'I am sorry that Marcus Brutus, whom I admire as I am sure you all do, has felt unable to remain with us. He is a man I honour and respect. Perhaps, you will say, he is over-scrupulous.

'There was another man with us earlier today of whom that cannot be said. You all know that I speak of Caesar. Men have said many things against Caesar but I doubt if anyone has ever accused him of being over- scrupulous…

'I would ask you to think of Caesar and of the relationship in which we now stand to him, in which Rome now stands to him.

'I can't tell what you and others think of the life we lead, but speaking for myself, I would as willingly cease to breathe as continue to live in… awe… of a man no different from myself.

'I was born in liberty, as was Caesar. I was born his equal. We are men like each other, heated by the same sun in summer, shivering in the same cold winter blast.

'Equals, did I say? I remember once when we were young Caesar challenged me to swim across the Tiber. The river ran high, but I plunged in regardless. Then I heard a cry behind me, and looking over my shoulder, saw that Caesar was in difficulties. And so, just as Aeneas, our noble ancestor, carried Anchises from the flames of burning Troy, so I bore Caesar from the turbulent water, brought him to the bank, and safety. You may imagine I have often dwelled on that moment since.

'And others have performed similar feats. My son-in-law, Decimus Junius Brutus Albinus, here today, why…' he turned his gaze directly on me, '… why, did you not rescue Caesar from the storm of battle at Munda?' 'Yes, I can make that claim.'

'And now,' Cassius said, dropping his voice to a whisper, as actors do when they wish to silence the murmurings in the theatre, 'and now, this Caesar is a god, and Cassius or Decimus Brutus, or Metellus Cimber who has done great things in battle, or Casca, or young Cato sprung from the noblest stock of Rome, or any of you here — any, in the Senate, camp or temple, must bow and bend and scrape, and flush with pleasure, if Caesar should condescend to nod his head at us.

'Is that a way to live, an honourable way?

'I remember too that Labienus, the noble, honourable Labienus, told me once of an occasion when Caesar fell sick in Gaul, and lay on his pallet bed and called for water. It was pathetic, like a little girl.

'Some of us have seen him suffer fits, have seen him shake, have seen this god tremble, all control departed from his limbs.

'This god… this man like us…

'And now he is the eighth wonder of the world. Why, he bestrides the world as the great Colossus you have seen at Rhodes, and we others, little men, men become petty inconsiderable things, must walk about peering between his legs, as if we searched for a dishonourable grave.

'Caesar talks of Destiny. There is no word more often on his lips. The stars, the stars, as if it was decreed by Fate that we should be subordinate, subservient, subdued.

'But I say…' and again he broke off, again he rapped the table with the hilt of his knife, again he paused, holding us, while each man both longed and feared to hurry on the conclusion to which he was inexorably driving. 'I say, the fault does not lie in the stars. It lies rather in ourselves.

'What meat has Caesar fed on that he has grown so great?

'If our ancestors, the men who broke Hannibal, laid Carthage waste, pursued the great King Mithridates to his doom, conquered Spain and Africa and Asia, if these men whom we revere, could see us now? If they could observe our fallen State? If they could see how abject we now seem? If they could see how Caesar, a man of our own stock, a gambler, debtor, lecher, one who has broken the historic links that held the State together, if they could see how he lords us, dominates us, holds us as his… subjects? If they saw all this, would they laugh or weep, or weeping laugh and laughing weep?

'This is the question that I put to you tonight: are you not ashamed, as I feel shame, that we have come to this abject condition? Or are you ready to bow down and worship Caesar, call him God, even King, regard him as a creature of a wholly different order from ourselves, his fellow nobility of Rome?'

Then he was silent, very pale, sipped wine, looked hard at each of us in turn. One by one eyes fell away, unable to hold his gaze, and there was silence. It was broken by the one man who had not met his gaze, had not done so for the excellent reason that his eyes were closed as he lay on his couch, in apparent indifference: Casca, of course.

'Words, words, words, Cassius, Cassius, Cassius, you have out-Ciceroed Cicero. There was no need indeed to ask the old man here tonight, for he couldn't have given a better exhibition of rhetoric than you have treated us to…'

'Do you think I mean nothing but words?'

'Can't say for sure, old thing, can't say.' Casca hauled himself half upright, slapped his belly. 'I am fat, fat, fat. That was a good dinner you have given us, Cassius. Caesar thinks only lean men are dangerous, and I am fat.'

Metellus Cimber interrupted:

'Enough of this comedy. You have given us much to think of, Cassius. If it is any satisfaction to you, you have brought the blush of shame to my cheek.'

'And to mine.'

'And mine.'

'And mine… alas.'

'Well, Casca?' Cassius said.

'Put away shame a long time ago, old dear. Give me comfort, wine and a bit of slap and tickle — kill my creditors or let them live as long as you keep them off — and what more could Casca seek from life? I am fat, you see. Words, words, words. Well, I'll reply in words — the proof of the pudding's in the eating — how's that for a proverb? Your cook has a light hand with the pastry, Cassius. Congratulate him from me on those lobster patties…'

Again Metellus Cimber broke the silence:

'What you have said, Cassius, can only be a beginning. I would wish Marcus Brutus had stayed. That's a man whose opinion I value. But you have given us all much to think of. Therefore I invite all here tonight to dine with me in seven days' time. Meanwhile we shall ponder these matters, consult our hearts, consciences, interests, whatever; and observe the oath of silence which we swore. Casca, you will find my cook, an Armenian, has a light hand with pastry too, and a deft imagination when it comes to the filling. So, shall we conclude here, and resume our discussion as I have invited?'

We all assented, but, as we made to leave, Cassius beckoned to me, and laid a restraining hand on young Cato's shoulder. When the three of us were alone, he said:

'An interesting response, better than I had dared hope for. But if we could have another word before you follow our friends, I should be grateful.'

So we resumed our couches. Cassius poured more wine.

'Mouse,' he said, 'you know Caesar better than any of us.'

'I owe him much.'

'He is as greatly in debt to you.'

'Well, I won't deny that.'

'You knew what I was driving at… and yet you stayed.'

I spat out an olive stone.

'There are loyalties and there is loyalty.'

'What do you mean?' Cato said.

'One owes something to one's friends and benefactors, one owes more to oneself, one owes most to Rome.' 'Precisely my thought,' Cassius said.

'Oh, you made that clear. I do no more than echo what you said. For months I have been seeking an