Augustus

and be kept as informal as possible. My ready agreement to this had surprised him.

So many versions of our island discussions have been given that the whole negotiation has been enveloped in a cloud of exaggeration, misrepresentation, party animus, private revenge and the sheer human tendency to prefer the more lurid of any two stories offered. I have never till now put on record what was said, and I never discussed the course of the conference with anyone but Livia, years later. Of course my friends and I analysed the decisions, particularly after the first day's talk, lest I should be committing myself to anything which might turn to my disadvantage. But that is all. Lepidus of course chattered. Antony later gave his version, or rather (for I wish to be fair) the intolerable Fulvia published an account which she claimed to be Antony's. In these versions I stand out as the one who was coldest and most implacable, most bent on revenge. This is patently absurd. I had no private revenge to seek. The law which I had had passed in Rome satisfied my legitimate desire that my father's murderers be punished. Otherwise no private impetus drove me. My political career had been too short to let me accumulate a host of scores to settle. Let me make that quite clear. In our decisions on that river island I was impersonal, driven only by that pure motive which I have called 'reason of state'.

By common consent Antony acted as chairman. (I am not afraid to confess that; it would have been presumptuous in me to have assumed the role.) He had a natural authority; for all his many faults of character I can no more deny that, than I can remember him without affection, despite his treachery, selfishness and untrustworthiness. And, when he bent his mind to business, he revealed a brilliant lucidity and mastery of the structure of politics and strategy of war. I would never wish to take that away from his memory.

He began by summing up the situation – a sparkling tour d'horizon. He showed a generous appreciation of my own achievements. 'You made things tough for me, kid,' he said, 'and there were several moments when I thought your own rope-dance would end in disaster for you. But you brought it off – there's nothing after all that succeeds like success. So here you is – no longer Kid but Caesar, even if to me' – he got up and walked round the table and squeezed my shoulder – 'you'll always be, in some part, just Kid. Still, it's quite something -no longer Kid but Caesar. Do you remember when they called out to Him, that he was planning to make himself King, and he snapped back, 'My name ain't King, it's Caesar'?'

I thought to myself: before I have finished Caesar will be more than a name. An odd discordant thought: perhaps it will be more than King?

'Anyway,' he said, 'to sum up: the West is ours. I don't say there's no disaffection left, especially in Italy, but it's at a level that we can control. The high-minded skunks are on the run. They're our next problem…' 'Pompey?' I suggested.

'Pompey can wait. It's what Pompeys are good at doing, the indecisive so-and-sos. Our job is to clean up Marcus Brutus.'

'My information is,' Lepidus stuck in, 'that Brutus and Cassius have raised more than forty legions and plan to land at Brindisi in the spring.' 'They won't,' Antony said. 'If they ally themselves to Pompey, they would have a fleet.' 'They won't move that fast. They're a committee.' 'They moved quite quickly on the Ides of March,' I said.

'Murder's a short sprint,' Antony said. 'You need staying power for war.'

He leaned back; his face had become deeply lined in the last year, and that made it look stronger. He had lost the playboy look. The big mouth turned down at the corners now, and his eyes were a little bloodshot. He had been through it; I felt a shaft of affection. His deep voice warmed the room.

'You've just come from the city, kid,' he said, giving a mighty and possibly calculated stretch and yawn. 'What's the state of the Treasury?'

'I paid my troops out of it,' I said, and looked him in the eye. 'As consul,' I said; his eye did not drop, but wavered towards Lepidus.

'Perfectly correct,' that worthy yelped. He had been left out and was fidgeting to intervene. 'Perfectly correct… I wonder if you would sanction a payment to…'

Antony interrupted: 'Nobody, kid, questions your correctness. I wasn't either trying to needle you. Look, by my calculations – supplied in part, I don't mind telling you, by my agents in your camps – don't look like a grey gander, Lepidus, if you don't have any agents in my camp, you bloody well should have – Caesar here has squads of 'em, don't you, kid? – so, as I was saying before being interrupted by our chum here having the dry heaves – talking of which, it's a hell of a long time between drinks, as one proconsul said to the other – Lepidus, before I resume, would you mind tinkling that dong so that we can get ourselves a snifter? Ah boy, a flask of white for the generals.'

He paused. Lepidus puffed and blew and wheezed and drummed his fingers, till the boy returned with the wine.

'Just pour it out, will you, and then be off with you, and don't try listening. It's deep politics we're talking, way beyond you, child. Right, where was we? Yup. I reckon we have forty-three legions between us. I suppose yours like mine are a bit under-strength, so let's say a total force of about 200,000 men. Well, those boys may love us, but they'll want pay too. So again I ask, how's the Treasury, kid?'

'It won't support that force for more than a few months. What's more,' I said, 'we'll get no tax revenues from Asia while our enemies hold Greece and the seas…'

'That Egyptian bint of Himself s ain't going to disgorge either. I'd a note from her the other day, saying, much as she would like to fulfil her obligations, blah-bloody-blah, she couldn't entrust tax money to the sea while Pompey held it. A bloody good excuse of course. Did you ever meet her, kid?' 'Only just'

'Himself was crazy about her. Usually it was the other way round, but he was silly on her. The boys thought she'd bewitched him. Maybe she had. I wouldn't say it was beyond the bint. He nearly got our throats cut in Alexandria while she teased his cock.'

These were precisely Antony's words the first time I heard him speak of Cleopatra. Like all my father's friends he had deplored and feared the influence she might exercise over him.

'So,' he said, 'money's going to be a bit of a problem. Like I say, my boys dote on me, but they won't fight for love.'

He was fishing for an answer I was loth to provide. Let him supply it himself, I thought, and then felt ashamed. I had after all to be ready to take responsibility for the actions that were going to be forced on us. 'Others have been in the same case,' I said. 'Such as who?' 'Sulla for instance.'

The name fell into the conversation like a stone thrown into a pool. I knew it would have that effect. Since I have hitherto advised your tutors that your historical studies should be confined principally to the heroic age of Republican virtue, you may not know why Sulla was so disturbing a name.

L. Cornelius Sulla, a man of most respectable family, was yet the first Roman to seize the city by force of arms. He did so, I hasten to add, with the laudable intention of freeing it from the tyrannical chaos that had been imposed on it by Cinna and the Popular Party. Having occupied Rome, he had the Senate name him dictator. Though not short of money, for he had just returned from an Asiatic war, he proceeded to confiscate the property of his opponents, some of whom were put to death. He did this partly to discourage the others from holding on to what they had imagined to be their rightful possessions. Sulla even went to the length of having lists of those whom he had decided to proscribe posted in the Forum. This made it easier for men to acquire merit by aiding the dictator. Not surprisingly many families hold the name of Sulla in especial horror. As a matter of fact my own family was among such. Indeed Julius himself found his name on the death list. The dictator was only persuaded, very reluctantly, to remove the name and spare the boy, by the intercession of one of our aunts. It is rum to think that had she failed I should probably have passed my life as a small-town banker.

Nevertheless I am not ashamed to admit that I introduced Sulla's name to our conference. It had to be done.

Antony's smile rewarded me. Lepidus of course twittered. True, his father, also M. Aemilius Lepidus, had opposed Sulla; he should however have been man enough to know that there is no point in maintaining feuds beyond the grave. Sulla's memory was a thing of value.

Antony said, 'Julius always swore he would never imitate Sulla, that Sulla's conduct had been hated and deplored by everybody, and that in a civil war clemency to the defeated was essential.'

'And the words do him credit,' Lepidus chirped – really, the discrepancy between appearance and voice was remarkable and disturbing – 'I remember him saying that often. We shouldn't forget, now, should we?' Antony looked at me: 'Well, kid?'

I said: 'Sulla died in his bed. You yourself picked up Caesar's bloody toga.' Antony shouted for a member of