Lustrum

happened. As the senators sat in shock, Cicero told me to fetch some wine. 'Four votes,' he murmured. 'Just four votes cast the other way, and that irresponsible reprobate would even now be on his way out of Italy for ever.
Four votes!
' He could not stop repeating it.
    'Well, this is the end for me, gentlemen,' announced Lucullus. 'I shall retire from public life.' From a distance he seemed still to possess his usual cold demeanour, but when one came close to him, as I did when I handed him a cup of wine, one could see that he was blinking uncontrollably. He had been humiliated. It was intolerable to him. He drank the wine quickly and held out his cup for more.
    'Our colleagues will be in a panic,' observed Hortensius.
    Catulus said, 'I feel quite faint.'
    'Four votes!'
    'I shall tend my fish, study philosophy and compose myself for death. This republic holds no place for me any longer.'
    Presently, Quintus arrived with news from the court. He had spoken to the prosecutors, he said, and to three of the jurors who had voted to condemn. 'It seems there has never been such bribery in the history of Roman justice. There are rumours that some of the key men were offered four hundred thousand to make sure the verdict went Clodius's way.'
    '
Four hundred thousand?
' repeated Hortensius in disbelief.
    'But where did Clodius get such sums?' demanded Lucullus. 'That little bitch of a wife is rich, but even so …'
    Quintus said, 'The rumour is that the money was put up by Crassus.'
    For the second time that day, the solid earth seemed to melt beneath my feet. Cicero glanced briefly in my direction.
    'I find that hard to believe,' said Hortensius. 'Why would Crassus want to pay out a fortune to rescue Clodius, of all people?'
    'Well, I can only report what is being said,' replied Quintus. 'Crassus had twenty of the jury round to his house last night, one after the other, and asked each of them what they wanted. He settled bills for some. To others he gave contracts. The rest took cash.'
    'That is still not a majority of the jury,' pointed out Cicero.
    'No, the word is that Clodius and Fulvia were also busy,' said Quintus, 'and not just with their gold. Beds were creaking in some noble houses in Rome last night, for those jurors who chose to take their payment in a different coin – male or female. I'm told that Clodia herself worked hard for several votes.'
    'Cato has been right all along,' exclaimed Lucullus. 'The coreof our republic is utterly rotten. We're finished. And Clodius is the maggot who will destroy us.'
    'Can you imagine a
patrician
transferring to the
plebs
?' asked Hortensius in a tone of wonder. 'Can you imagine
wanting
to do such a thing?'
    'Gentlemen, gentlemen,' said Cicero, 'we've lost a trial, that's all – don't let's lose our nerve. Clodius isn't the first guilty man to walk free from a court of law.'
    'He will come after you, brother,' warned Quintus. 'If he transfers to the plebs, you can be sure he will be elected tribune – he's too popular now to be stopped – and once he has the powers of that office at his disposal, he can cause you a great deal of trouble.'
    'It will never happen,' said Cicero. 'The state authorities will never allow him to transfer. And if by some amazing mischance they do, do you really think that I – after all that I've achieved in this city, starting from nothing – do you honestly believe that I can't handle a giggling puerile pervert such as our Little Miss Beauty? I could snap his spine in a single speech!'
    'You're right,' said Hortensius, 'and I want you to know that we will never abandon you. If he does dare to attack you, you will always have our complete support. Is that not so, Lucullus?'
    'Of course.'
    'Don't you agree, Catulus?' But the old patrician did not answer. 'Catulus?' Again there was no reply. Hortensius sighed. 'I'm afraid he's grown very old of late. Wake him, will you, Tiro?'
    I put my hand on Catulus's shoulder and shook him gently. His head lolled over on to one side and I had to grab him to stop him sliding to the floor. His head flopped back so that his leathery old face was suddenly staring up into mine. His eyes were open. His mouth hung loose, leaking spit. I snatched awaymy hand in shock, and it was Quintus who had to step forward to feel his neck and pronounce him dead.
    Thus passed from this world Quintus Lutatius Catulus, in the sixty-first year of his life: consul, pontiff, and fierce upholder of the prerogatives of the senate. He was