Caesar Dies | Page 3

to imitate her immorality.
But the only woman who really sways him is the proudish Cornificia,
who is almost as incapable of treachery as Pertinax himself. He is the
best governor the City of Rome has had in our generation. Can you
imagine what Rome would be like without him? Call to mind what it
was like when Fuscianus was the governor!"
"These are strange times, Sextus!"
"Aye! And it is a strange beast we have for emperor!"
"Be careful!"
Sextus glanced over his shoulder to make sure that Scylax followed
closely and prevented any one from overhearing. There was an endless
procession now, before and behind, all bound for Daphne. As the riders
passed under the city gate, where the golden cherubim that Titus took
from the Jews' temple in Jerusalem gleamed in the westering sun,

Sextus noticed a slave of the municipium who wrote down the names
of individuals who came and went.
"There are new proscriptions brewing," he remarked. "Some friends of
ours will not see sunrise. Well--I am in a mood to talk and I will not be
silenced."
"Better laugh then!" Norbanus advised. "The deadliest crime nowadays
is to have the appearance of being serious. None suspects a drunken or
a gay man."
Sextus, however, was at no pains to appear gay. He inherited the
moribund traditions that the older Cato had typified some centuries ago.
His young face had the sober, chiseled earnestness that had been
typically Roman in the sterner days of the Republic. He had blue-gray
eyes that challenged destiny, and curly brown hair, that suggested
flames as the westering sun brought out its redness. Such mirth as
haunted his rebellious lips was rather cynical than genial. There was no
weakness visible. He had a pugnacious neck and shoulders.
"I am the son of my father Maximus," he said, "and of my grandsire
Sextus, and of his father Maximus, and of my great-great-grandsire
Sextus. It offends my dignity that men should call a hog like
Commodus a god. I will not. I despise Rome for submission to him."
"Yet what else is there in the world except to be a Roman citizen?"
Norbanus asked.
"As for being, there is nothing else," said Sextus. "I would like to speak
of doing. It is what I do that answers what I am."
"Then let it answer now!" Norbanus laughed. He pointed to a little
shrine beside the road, beneath a group of trees, where once the image
of a local deity had smiled its blessing on the passer-by. The bust of
Commodus, as insolent as the brass of which the artist-slaves had cast
it, had replaced the old benign divinity. There was an attendant near by,
costumed as a priest, whose duty was to see that travelers by that road
did their homage to the image of the human god who ruled the Roman
world. He struck a gong. He gave fair warning of the deference
required. There was a little guard-house, fifty paces distant, just around
the corner of the clump of trees, where the police were ready to execute
summary justice, and floggings were inflicted on offenders who could
not claim citizenship or who had no coin with which to buy the
alternative reprimand. Roman citizens were placed under arrest, to be

submitted to all manner of indignities and to think themselves fortunate
if they should escape with a heavy fine from a judge who had bought
his office from an emperor's favorite.
Most of the riders ahead dismounted and walked past the image,
saluting it with right hands raised. Many of them tossed coins to the
priest's attendant slave. Sextus remained in the saddle, his brow
clouded with an angry scowl. He drew rein, making no obeisance, but
sent Scylax to present an offering of money to the priest, then rode on.
"Your dignity appears to me expensive!" Norbanus remarked, grinning.
"Gold?"
"He may have my gold, if I may keep my self-respect!"
"Incorrigible stoic! He will take that also before long!"
"I think not. Commodus has lost his own and destroyed Rome's, but
mine not yet. I wish, though, that my father were in Antioch. He, too, is
no cringer to images of beasts in purple. I wrote to my father recently
and warned him to leave Rome before Commodus's spies could invent
an excuse for confiscating our estates. I said, an absent man attracts less
notice, and our estates are well worth plundering. I also hinted that
Commodus can hardly live forever, and reminded him that tides flow in
and out--by which I meant him to understand that the next emperor
may be another such as Aurelius, who will persecute the Christians but
let honest men live in peace, instead of favoring the Christians and
ridding Rome of honest men."
Norbanus