Lustrum

Cicero when he went to see him, and after a little preliminary talk about the political situation, Cicero broached the subject of the Drusus house.
    'Do you want to buy it?' asked Crassus, suddenly alert.
    'I might. How much is it?'
    'Fourteen million.'
    'Ouch! That's too expensive for me, I fear.'
    'I'd let you have it for ten.'
    'That's generous, but it's still out of my range.'
    'Eight?'
    'No, really, Crassus – I appreciate it, but I should never have brought the subject up.' Cicero started to rise from his chair.
    'Six?' offered Crassus. 'Four?'
    Cicero sat down again. 'I could possibly manage three.'
    'Shall we settle on three and a half?'
    Afterwards, as we were walking home, I tried gently to suggest that taking possession of such a house for a quarter of its true value would not go down well with the voters. They would smell something fishy about it. 'Who cares about the voters?' replied Cicero. 'I'm barred from standing for the consulship for the next ten years whatever I do. In any case, they need never know how much I paid for it.'
    'It will get out somehow,' I warned.
    'For gods' sake, will you stop lecturing me about how I am to live? It is bad enough hearing it from my wife, without taking it from my secretary! Haven't I earned the right to some luxuryat long last? Half this town would be nothing but charred brick and ashes if it weren't for me! Which reminds me – have we heard back from Pompey yet?'
    'No,' I said, bowing my head.
    I let the matter drop, but I continued to be troubled. I was absolutely certain that Crassus would expect something in return for his money; either that, or he hated Cicero so much he was willing to forfeit ten million simply to make the people envy and resent him. My secret hope was that Cicero would come to his senses in a day or two, not least because I knew that actually he did not have three and a half million sesterces, or anything like it. But Cicero always took the view that income should adjust to meet expenditure rather than the other way round. He had set his heart on moving up to Victory Rise to dwell among the pantheon of the great names of the republic, and was determined to find the cash somehow. He soon discovered a way.
    Almost every day at this time one of the surviving conspirators was to be found on trial in the forum. Autronius Paetus, Cassius Longinus, Marcus Laeca, the two would-be assassins Vargunteius and Cornelius, and many more passed through the courts in a dismal procession. In each case Cicero was a witness for the prosecution, and such was his prestige that a word from him was invariably sufficient to sway the court. One after another they were found guilty – although, fortunately for them, because the emergency was now over, they were not sentenced to death. Instead, each was stripped of his citizenship and property and sent destitute into exile. Cicero was feared and hated by the conspirators and their families almost more than ever, and it remained necessary for him to go around with guards.
    Perhaps the most keenly awaited trial of all was that of PubliusCornelius Sulla, who had been immersed in the conspiracy right up to his noble neck. As the date for his hearing approached, his advocate – inevitably it was Hortensius – came to see Cicero.
    'My client has a favour to ask of you,' he said.
    'Don't tell me: he would like me to refuse to appear as a witness against him?'
    'That's right. He's entirely innocent and has always had the highest regard—'
    'Oh, spare me all the hypocrisy. He's guilty and you know it.' Cicero scrutinised Hortensius's bland face, weighing him up. 'Actually, you can tell him I might be willing to hold my tongue in his particular case, but on one condition.'
    'And what is that?'
    'He gives me a million sesterces.'
    I was making my usual note of the conversation, but I must say my hand froze when I heard that. Even Hortensius, who after thirty years at the Roman bar was not shocked by much, looked taken aback. Still, he went off and saw Sulla and came back later that same day.
    'My client wishes to make a counter-offer. If you are willing to give the closing speech in his defence, he will pay you two million.'
    'Agreed,' said Cicero without any hesitation.
    There is little doubt that if Cicero had not struck this bargain, Sulla would have been condemned to exile like all the rest; indeed, it was said he had already transferred a large part of his fortune abroad. So when, on the opening day of the trial,