it.' 'How did that come about?'
'Some of Milo's men heard the shouting and came running. Soon there were enough of them to drown out Clodius and his gang. Their chants were positively shocking.'
'Oh, probably not all that shocking,' I said, idly shaping the last of my breakfast porridge into little peaks and valleys, feigning indifference.
Bethesda shrugged. 'You're right, they weren't really shocking at all, since one has heard all those rumors before. Though I imagine hearing them chanted by a mob in the Forum must have made even Clodius squirm.'
'What rumors?' I said, giving in.
'About Clodius and his older sister. Or half sister, I should say.'
'Clodius and Clodia? Oh, yes, I've heard whispers and a few nasty jokes. Never having met either of the doubtless charming siblings face to face, I wouldn't presume to second-guess the secrets of their bed-chamber. Or bedchambers.'
Bethesda gave a delicate snort. 'Why Romans should make such a fuss over relations between a brother and sister makes no sense to me anyway. In Egypt, such unions began with the gods and have a long and sacred tradition.'
'No such tradition exists in Rome, I can assure you,' I said. 'What exactly did the mob chant?'
'Well, it started with something about Clodius selling himself to older men when he was a boy — '
'Yes, I've heard that story: when their father's early death left them in financial straits, the Clodii boys rented out little brother Publius as a catamite, and with considerable success. It could all be a spiteful lie, of course.'
'Of course. But the chant went something like this:
Clodius played the girl
While he was still a boy.
Then Clodia made the man
Into her private toy.
And then more of the same, only more and more explicit.'
'The Greek vice, coupled with the Egyptian vice,' I observed. 'And easterners complain that we Romans aren't versatile' in matters of sex. How did Clodius react?'
'He tried to keep up his chant against Pompey, but when Milo's men began to drown him out, he disappeared pretty quickly, and not with a smile on his face. The chanting finally broke into a scuffle between Milo's and Clodius's gangs.'
'Nothing too serious, I hope.'
'Not serious enough to disrupt the trial.'
'Probably only a few heads split open. And how did the trial turn out? Was Milo acquitted or found guilty of disturbing the peace?'
Bethesda looked at me blankly, then shrugged. 'I don't recall. I'm not sure I ever heard.'
'Probably because no one cares a whit. What they all remember and what they'll keep talking about is the scandal of Clodius's reputed incest with his sister being shouted aloud in the Forum. What's the difference in their ages-five years? Well, the widow Clodia does have a reputation for liking younger men, like our neighbor Marcus Caelius. I wonder what he thinks of having his lover's alleged incest made into a ditty by the mob?'
'Actually, Caelius and Clodia are no longer lovers, and Caelius isn't on such good terms with Clodius anymore,' said Bethesda.
'How could you possibly know that?' I shook my head in wonder. 'You haven't been slinking off to some of these wild Palatine Hill parties, mixing with the sophisticated young set in my absence, have you?'
'No.' She leaned back on her couch with a smile and luxuriously stretched her arms above her head. The gesture was unabashedly sensual, evoking memories of the night's pleasures, as if to demonstrate that despite my teasing she would indeed fit in quite well at a Palatine Hill debauch, were she not so acutely aware and protective of her hard-won role as a respectable Roman matron.
'Or has young Caelius been confessing the secrets of his love life whenever the two of you happen to meet in the street?' I said.
'Not that either. But we have ways of sharing what we know.'
'We'?'
'We women,' said Bethesda with a shrug. She was always vague about her network of informants, even to me. I had spent a lifetime ferreting out secrets, but Bethesda could sometimes make me feel like an amateur.
'What caused the parting of the ways,' I asked. 'Surely sophisticated lovers like Clodia and Caelius don't abandon each other over trifles like infidelity or a bit of incest.'
'No, they say it was-' Bethesda abruptly frowned and creased her
brow.
She was teasing me again, I thought, trying to add suspense to the
telling. 'Well?' I finally said.
'Politics, or something like that,' she said hastily. 'A falling out between Clodius and Caelius, and then trouble between Caelius and
Clodia.'
'You're well on the way to making a poem, like the mob in the Forum: Clodius and Caelius, and Caelius and Clodia. You need only insert a few obscene verbs. What sort of falling out? Over what?'
She shrugged. 'You know I don't follow politics,' she said, suddenly fascinated by her fingernails.
'Unless there's a good story involved. Come, wife, you know more than you're telling. Must I remind you that it's your duty, indeed your obligation under the law, to tell your husband everything you know? I command you to speak!' I spoke playfully, making a joke of it, but Bethesda was not amused.
'All right, then,' she said. 'I think it was something to do with what you call the Egyptian situation. Some falling-out between Clodius and Caelius. How should I know anything about the private dealings of men like that? And who should be surprised if an aging whore like Clodia suddenly loses her charms for a handsome young man like Caelius?'
I had long ago learned to weather Bethesda's moods, as one must weather sudden squalls at sea, but I had never quite learned to comprehend them. Something had set her on edge, but what? I tried to recollect the phrase or topic that had offended her, but the sudden chill in the room numbed my mind. I decided to change the subject.
'Who cares about such people, anyway?' I picked up my empty cup, twisted my wrist to set the dregs aswirl, and stared into the vortex. 'I was just wondering a moment ago, about those odd visitors I had on the day before my trip.'
Bethesda looked at me blankly.
'It was only a month ago. You must remember-the little gallus and the old Alexandrian philosopher, Dio. He came seeking help, but I wasn't able to help him, at least not then. Did he come calling again while I was gone?'
I waited for an answer, but when I looked up from my cup I saw that Bethesda was looking elsewhere.
'It's a simple enough question,' I said mildly. 'Did the old philosopher come asking for me while I was gone?'
'No,' she said.
'That's odd. I thought that he would; he was so distraught. I worried about him while I was away. Perhaps he didn't need my help after all. Have you heard any news of him, through your vast network of spies and informants?'
'Yes,' she said.
'And? What news?'
'He's dead,' said Bethesda. 'Murdered, I believe, in the house where he was staying. That's all I know.'
The swirling dregs in my wine cup slowed to a stop, the porridge in my stomach turned to stone, and in my mouth I tasted ashes.
Chapter Seven
