Imperium

thought as to whether this was likely to be helpful to his cause or not. In the end he could not decide.
    Glabrio’s chair had just been set up for him, the signal that the court was ready to open for business, and it must have been cold, for I have a very clear memory of Glabrio wearing mittens and sitting beside a charcoal brazier. He was stationed on that platform which runs along the front of the temple, halfway up the stairs. His lictors, their bundled rods over their shoulders, were standing in line, stamping their feet, on the steps beneath him. It was a busy spot, for as well as housing the extortion court, the Temple of Castor was the venue of the Bureau of Standards, where tradesmen went to check their weights and measures. Glabrio looked surprised to see Cicero with his train of supporters advancing toward him, and many other curious passersby turned to watch. The praetor waved to his lictors to let the senator approach the bench. As I opened the document case and handed Cicero the postulatus , I saw anxiety in his eyes, but also relief that the waiting was finally over. He mounted the steps and turned to address the spectators.
    “Citizens,” he said, “today I come to offer my life in service to the Roman people. I wish to announce my intention to seek the office of aedile of Rome. I do this not out of any desire for personal glory, but because the state of our republic demands that honest men stand up for justice. You all know me. You know what I believe in. You know that I have long been keeping an eye on certain aristocratic gentlemen in the Senate!” There was a murmur of approval. “Well, I have in my hand an application to prosecute—a postulatus, as we lawyers call it. And I am here to serve notice of my intention to bring to justice Gaius Verres for the high crimes and misdemeanors committed during his term as governor of Sicily.” He waved it above his head, finally extracting a few muted cheers. “If he is convicted he will not only have to pay back what he has stolen: he will lose all civil rights as a citizen. Exile or death will be his only choices. He will fight like a cornered animal. It will be a long, hard battle, make no mistake, and on its outcome, I hereby wager everything—the office I seek, my hopes for the future, the reputation which I have risen early and toiled in the heat to gain—but I do so in the firm conviction that right will prevail!”
    And with that he marched up the remaining few steps to Glabrio, who was looking mightily bemused, and gave him his application to prosecute. The praetor glanced at it quickly, then passed it to one of his clerks. He shook Cicero’s hand—and that was it. I am afraid the whole business had fallen embarrassingly flat, the trouble being that Rome was constantly witnessing individuals declaring their intention to run for some office or another—at least fifty were elected annually—and nobody saw Cicero’s announcement in quite the same historic terms as he did. As for the prosecution, it had been more than a year since he had stirred up the original excitement about Verres, and people, as he frequently remarked, have short memories: they had forgotten all about the wicked governor of Sicily. I could see that Cicero was suffering a dreadful sense of anticlimax, which even Lucius, who was usually good at making him laugh, could not shake him out of.
    We reached the house and Quintus and Lucius tried to amuse him by picturing the responses of Verres and Hortensius when they learned that a charge had been laid: the slave running back from the Forum with the news, Verres turning white, a crisis meeting summoned. But Cicero would have none of it. I guessed he was thinking of the warning Servilia had given him, and the way Hortensius and Verres had laughed at him on inauguration day. “They knew this was coming,” he said. “They have a plan. The question is: what? Do they know our evidence is too weak? Is Glabrio in their pocket? What?”
    The answer was in his hands before the morning was out. It came in the form of a writ from the extortion court, served upon him by one of Glabrio’s lictors. He took it with a frown, broke open the seal, read it quickly, and then said a soft “Ah…”
    “What is it?” asked Lucius.
    “The court has received a second application to prosecute Verres.”
    “That is impossible,” said Quintus. “Who else would want to do that?”
    “A senator,” replied Cicero, studying the writ.