Lustrum

him a basket of luxuriant fruit from her orchard on the Palatine. But this was intercepted by Terentia before it reached her husband, and Iwatched a look of suspicion darken her face as she read Clodia's note; she ordered the steward to throw the fruit away, 'for fear of poison', she said.
    A warrant was issued by Cicero for the arrest of Vargunteius and Cornelius. The leaders of the senate also urged him to order the capture of Catilina, dead or alive. But Cicero hesitated. 'It's all very well for them,' he said to Quintus and Atticus after the deputation had gone, 'their names wouldn't be on the warrant. But if Catilina is killed illegally on my orders, I'll be fighting off prosecutors for the rest of my days. Besides, it would only be a short-term remedy. It would still leave his supporters in the senate.'
    'You're not suggesting he should be allowed to carry on living in Rome?' protested Quintus.
    'No, I just want him to leave – leave and take his treasonous friends with him, and let them all join the rebel army and be killed on the field of battle, preferably a hundred miles away from me. By heavens, I'd give them a pass of safe conduct and a guard of honour to escort them out of the city if they wanted it – anything they liked so long as they'd just clear out.'
    But however much he paced around, he could not see a way of bringing this about, and in the end he decided his only course was to call a meeting of the senate. Quintus and Atticus immediately objected that this would be dangerous: how could they guarantee his safety? Cicero pondered further and then came up with a clever idea. Rather than convene the senate in its usual chamber, he gave orders that the benches should be carried across the forum to the Temple of Jupiter the Protector. This had two advantages. First, because the temple was on the lower slopes of the Palatine, it could more easily be defended against an attack by Catilina's supporters. Second, it would have great symbolicvalue. According to legend, the temple had been vowed to Jupiter by Romulus himself at a critical juncture in the war against the Sabine tribes. Here was the very spot on which Rome had stood and rallied in her earliest hour of danger: here she would stand and rally in her latest, led by her new Romulus.
    By the time Cicero set off for the temple, tightly protected by lictors and bodyguards, an atmosphere of real dread hung over the city, as tangible as the grey November mist rising from the Tiber. The streets were deathly quiet. Nobody applauded or jeered; they simply hid indoors. In the shadows of their windows the citizenry gathered, white-faced and silent, to watch the consul pass.
    When we reached the temple, we found it ringed by members of the Order of Knights, some quite elderly, all armed with lances and swords. Within this security perimeter several hundred senators stood around in muted groups. They parted to let us through and a few patted Cicero on the back and whispered their good wishes. Cicero nodded in acknowledgement, took the auspices very quickly, and then he and the lictors led the way into the large building. I had never set foot inside before, and it presented a most sombre scene. Centuries old, every wall and corner was crammed with relics of military glory from the earliest days of the republic – bloodied standards, dented armour, ships' beaks, legionary eagles, and a statue of Scipio Africanus painted up to look so lifelike it actually seemed he stood among us. I was some distance back in Cicero's retinue, the senators pouring in behind me, and because I was so busy craning my neck at all the memorabilia, I must have dawdled a little. At any rate, it wasn't until I had nearly reached the dais that I became aware, to my embarrassment, that the only sound in the building was the
click click
of my footsteps on the stone floor. The senate, I realised, had fallen entirely still.
    Cicero was fiddling with a roll of papyrus. He turned to find out what was happening and I saw his face transfix with astonishment. I spun round in alarm myself – only to see Catilina calmly taking his place on one of the benches. Almost everyone else was still on their feet, watching him. Catilina sat, whereupon all the men nearest to him started edging away, as if he had leprosy. I never saw such a demonstration in my life. Even Caesar wouldn't go near him. Catilina took no notice, but folded his arms and thrust out his chin. The silence lengthened, until eventually