for the time being at least… besides, I bring you news of Rome such as it might be dangerous to write…' 'So you say. But why should I believe you?' I wept that night. I am not ashamed to remember, and say so. It seemed that friendship was a mere bubble, and I had trusted in friendship. But the next morning Titus was in a different mood. We rode into the desert. Josephus accompanied us. But this time he was the third member of the party, the superfluous one. Titus talked to me alone, and with a gaiety and affection that caused my last night's fears and misgivings to fall away. I thought: he is a creature of mood, and last night I was merely so unfortunate as to find him in a mood where I had no place. He pointed to distant hills, rising purple-black against an azure sky.
'That's where the rebels lurk,' he said, 'the so-called Zealots. There are innumerable bands of them couched in those hills like wild beasts. They are fanatics and death means nothing to them. Civilised men respect Death and give him a wide berth, unless Necessity demands otherwise. But these young men – they are mostly very young who form these bands – are infatuated with Death. It makes them difficult to deal with. They don't understand the rational arguments of civilised men. They don't understand that when two opposed interests clash, it is wise and expedient to seek a middle way.'
'Yes,' I said, 'I think that's what Otho is seeking. I found him likeable, you know.'
'Oh,'Titus said, 'almost everybody has always liked Otho. He's never found any difficulty in being liked. It's a matter of whether he deserves respect or trust, and that's rather different.'
A hawk hovered overhead. We drew rein and watched it. Then it dropped true as a stone. You were always curious, I remember, Tacitus, about this journey of mine to the East. When I told you, once, that I had undertaken it at Otho's command, you were incredulous, and ascribed my statement either to my vanity or my lamentable habit of making jokes. As it happened I was more amused than irritated by your inability to accept the truth. Now I wonder if this lack of simplicity in your nature will impair your History. Do not think me impertinent if I tell you that you are too inclined to look for hidden meanings lurking behind straightforward words and actions. Such are not always there. Lucan once said to me that 'only shallow people do not judge by appearances', and I thought that a characteristically clever-silly remark. But there is something in it. I would never call you shallow, but you suffer from a psychological deformity which apparently makes it impossible for you to accept the simple and obvious explanation.
However I shall give you more details now, instead of teasing you with silences and hints of I-could-if-I-would with which I sought to tantalise you in the past.
The suspicion with which Titus received me was not shared by his father. And yet it is possible that beneath, or rather behind, his bluff, even coarse, exterior Vespasian was a more subtle man than his elder son.
Titus accompanied me to the Governor's palace which Vespasian had made his headquarters. Mucianus was there, too. The generals made a compelling contrast. Vespasian was on his feet when we entered or, rather, bounded to his feet when we were announced; you will not have forgotten how difficult he always found it to keep still, and how he would disrupt the reception of, say, ambassadors by scratching himself, bobbing up and down, pulling his ear, twisting in his seat, and then getting to his feet and circling the chamber. Now he clapped me on the back, ruffled my hair, told me I had grown, looked quite soldierly now (which I didn't, but the compliment pleased me) and then started scratching under his armpits.
Mucianus reclined on a couch, resting against cushions. His long pale fingers, with their painted nails, toyed with the stem of a wine-cup. He fluttered his other hand feebly in my direction.
'Knew yer father, boy,' he said, 'you don't resemble him, fortunate for you. Bit of a shit, yer father, if y' don't mind me sayin' so.'
As if exhausted by the effort of speech, he sipped wine and then fanned his face with a kid-skin fan decorated with cupids.
Everything about him spoke of lethargy. Five or six little dogs shared the couch with him, now and then crawling over his body to be fondled, licking his hands, face, and even lips. He made no move to restrain them, and neither Vespasian nor Titus appeared to find anything remarkable in the spectacle their colleague offered. So I concluded it was customary.
Vespasian was never one for long speeches, or for approaching a subject delicately. 'My brother tells me you've a brain in your head, and that your mother's brought you up to be honourable. That so?' Tm grateful he should think so.' 'Don't fence, boy. Are you honourable?' 'I hope so. I believe I am.'
'Poor dear,' Mucianus said, 'and you such a beauty. Honour belonged to the days of the Republic, my dear. The Divine Augustus stifled the idea of honour as he stifled liberty and all virtues. So nowadays we all look after number one, don'y' know that?'
Vespasian flapped his hand at his colleague, and scratched himself again, this time in the belly.
That's as may be,' he said. 'Not going to argue with you. Waste of time. Point is, this young man comes here with a message. From Otho, he says. Question is, do we believe him?'
'No reason not to, darling,' Mucianus said. His voice was a languid drawl; he drew out the syllables of some words as if loth to let them slip, and abbreviated others as though the effort of speech was too wearisome. 'Boy's not a fool, you say. So there's no reason to question his coming. Point is, do we believe Otho? Just what did the man say?'
I gave them, in as brief and military fashion as I could muster, Otho's proposals.
To my surprise they were ready to discuss them in my presence. Now, I wonder to what extent their arguments had already been rehearsed, since Titus had certainly informed his father and Mucianus of the gist of Otho's offer; and therefore whether the intention was that I should repeat to Otho the doubts and hesitations they now expressed. Yet certainly they could not have wished me to report everything, for all three spoke of Otho with unmingled contempt. To my further surprise, this irritated me. Though I was accustomed to think of myself as bound to Titus, and therefore to his party, I had been touched by something in Otho's manner and speech, which aroused in me the desire to protect, or at least stand up for him. But now I kept silence when I heard him derided.
'In my opinion,' Titus said, 'we should hasten slowly. That was a favourite saying of the Divine Augustus, I've been told, and it remains a good one. It certainly proved a good principle in his case.'
Vespasian said, 'What do we have to lose if we assent to Otho's proposals?' Mucianus said, There's Vitellius, of course. A buffoon, admittedly, but not backed by buffoons. He's their puppet, y' know. Suppose he wins.'
Titus said, 'Suppose Otho wins, even with our help? Will he pay his debt? How long can a Triumvirate last? The history of the two earlier ones…'
Mucianus said, 'I know Otho. He's weak. He would like to be loved. OF Tiberius never cared a pigeon's fart for that. He knew the nature of men: that they hesitate less to offend a man who has made himself loved than one whom they fear. For love binds only by a chain of obligation, which is easily broken, but fear by dread of punishment, which never fails. What a long speech! I'm quite fatigued. But the words came to me and I couldn't hold them back…'
'So Otho's weak,' Vespasian said. 'Better he win then, with our help.' Mucianus fondled his dogs, Titus smiled, we drank wine.
I shan't send this passage to Tacitus. It's too shameful to confess myself a gull. The truth is, men are blind throughout their entire lives. The Jew Josephus said that to me once when I had the audacity to ask him how it felt to be a traitor. He added, 'Look in your own heart; recall what and whom you have betrayed in life. No one is innocent of some act of treachery.'
I spent two days with Titus before a ship could be found to carry me back to Italy. Titus was in sunny mood, regretting only the absence of Berenice, which denied me the promised chance of meeting her daughters.
'Believe me,' he said, 'the secret of reaping the richest harvest from life, and the most intense enjoyment, is simple: it is to live dangerously.'
'If you and your father had decided otherwise,' 1 said, 'your brother Domitian would be in mortal danger.'
'Domitian has too little imagination to live dangerously,' Titus said. 'He's not like you and me. Trust in me, my dear, and I shall lead you to wonderful times. You must return now, to give our message to Otho, and then perhaps you will come back here to help me suppress these wretched Jews, who fight with a fanatical determination and then, who knows? The world is ours, our plaything, our oyster. On such a day as this I feel unrivalled strength. Open yourself to chance and the future
It was then that he told me of his visit to the Temple of the Paphian Venus.
