The Ides of March Page 12
Such too is the conversation of woman; but how much more diverse her aims, how much wider her resources of attack, and how much more deeply rooted her passion to attain her ends.
For the most part, a slave merely desires conveniences; but behind a woman’s wishes lie forces which are for her the very nature of life itself: the conservation of property; the esteem in which she is held by those matrons of her acquaintance whom she despises and dreads; the claustration of a daughter, whom she wishes to be ignorant, joyless, and brutified. So deeply rooted are a woman’s aims that they have to her the character of self-evident truth and unshakable wisdom. Hence, she can feel only contempt for any opinion that opposes her own. Reason is unnecessary and trifling to one so endowed; she is deaf in advance. A man may have saved the State, directed the affairs of a world, and acquired an undying fame for wisdom, but to his wife he is a witless fool.
[Here follows a paragraph about the sexual relationship. It has been so distorted by the glee and invention of copyists and transmitters that it is impossible to determine the original text.]
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These things are not often said, though occasionally the poets reveal them—those same poets who are primarily responsible for the delusion that marriage is a heaven and who betray us into seeking the Perilous Exception. Euripides left no word of it untold in the Medea. Little wonder that the Athenians drove him from Athens with imprecations for telling such truths. The mob was led by Aristophanes who has shown that he knew these things—though with less candor; he stifled his knowledge in order to hound from the city a greater poet. And Sophocles! What husband has not smiled grimly to himself before the scene where Jocasta heaps lies on lies, putting a fair face on a calamitous situation. Notable example of that so-called conjugal love that will conceal any fact from a husband in order to maintain an ostensible contentment; bold illustration that for mentality a wife can barely distinguish a husband from a son.
Oh, my friend, let us console ourselves with philosophy. There is a realm where they have never entered; indeed, in which they never have taken the faintest interest. Let us welcome that old age which frees us from that desire for their embraces—embraces which must be paid for at the cost of all order in our lives and any tranquility in our minds.
XXXII Abra, Pompeia’s Maid, to Clodia.
[October 1.]
I have been in great anxiety, honored Madam, concerning yourself and your house and concerning our Master after the attempt on his life. Madam, all has been in great dismay here; the house always full of visitors and police and my mistress at her wits’ end. Himself, praise the Immortal Gods, woke up at noon and seemed none the worse; in fact, very merry which made my mistress most angry. He was very hungry and ate and ate and the doctor protested and my mistress got down on her knees and begged him not to eat. But he made such jokes that we had all we could do to keep straight faces.
I heard him say to everybody standing around, Madam, that he never enjoyed a dinner more than the one he enjoyed at your house. The General Marc Antony said why and he said because the company was so good. And, begging your pardon, Marc Antony said you mean Claudilla and himself said Claudilla is an extraordinary woman. I hope I am correct in telling things like this to Madam.
Now I should tell Madam that he announced to all who came in during the day that Cleopatra, she that is queen of Egypt, will arrive today or tomorrow.
[October 6.]
The Master was not home last night, the first time in a very long time and everybody has their ideas.
The Queen has sent my mistress the most wonderful presents, especially one the most wonderful thing ever seen. Some workmen came yesterday in great secrecy and set it up and put it in motion. It is an Egyptian palace, Madam, no higher than one’s knee. And when you take off the front wall you can see all the people inside and there is a barnyard and a royal procession and in the most beautiful clothes and colors. But that is not all. When you start water running, this is hard to explain, Madam, the little people all move, the Queen and all her court walk into the house, up the stairs, yes, and through the house and the animals go and drink in the Nile and a crocodile swims against the water, and the women weave and fishers fish and, Immortal Gods, I cannot tell all that they do. One could look at it forever. My mistress was very delighted and had lights brought and we thought she would never go to bed. Everybody says how clever it was of the Queen, because my mistress forgot everything when she was watching this palace and she forgot that her husband was not at home.
[October 8.]
Yesterday the Queen came to visit my mistress. We thought she would wear very fine clothes, but she just wore a blue dress and not a single jewel, so she must know the law about them. Her hair was not dressed at all, madam, just anyhow and I had taken two hours with mistress’s. My mistress thanked her for the toy palace and then the whole time was taken up in explaining it. The Queen is very simple. She even knew my name and explained things to me. But as my mistress’s secretary said you can see that she’s thinking all the time. When the Master he came home, he asked how did it go and my mistress very dignified said why very well, what did you think? Oh, Madam, you should see my Master these days. It is like having ten boys in the house. He is always teasing my mistress and pinching her.
XXXIII Cornelius Nepos: Commonplace Book.
[October 3.]
The Queen of Egypt has arrived. She was received at Ostia by a deputation from the City and the Senate but refused to disembark because the Dictator’s insignia was not present among the welcoming guidons. This was reported to Caesar who hastily dispatched Asinius Pollio to the port bearing his trophies. She then came to Rome, traveling by night.
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The Queen has received no one and is reported to be indisposed. She has, however, sent magnificent presents to some thirty persons of note.
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[October 5.]
The Queen was received at the Capitoline today. The magnificence of her train exceeded anything ever seen in the City. To me at a distance she seemed very beautiful; Alina [his wife], having a view of better advantage [probably sitting among the votaresses of Hestia] and being a woman, reports that she is decidedly plain, having cheeks so plump that they are condemned as “jowls.” Gossips report that there was a fierce struggle with the Dictator in regard to her costume. The Queens of Egypt, in dress of ceremony, apparently through identification with the Goddess Isis, wear no garments above the girdle. Caesar insisted that she cover her bosom according to the Roman usage, and it was done though lightly. She made a short speech in broken Latin, a longer one in Egyptian. The Dictator replied in Egyptian and Latin. The omens at the sacrifice were extremely favorable.
XXXIII-A Cicero in Rome to his Brother.
[October 8.]
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The words “Queen of Egypt” cast a deep spell, my friend, but not upon me.
I have corresponded for a number of years with this Queen; I have done innumerable services for her chancellery. It can be presumed that she knows my interests and my disposition and my services to this Republic. Arriving in this city she distributes presents to every clerk in the backstairs of government, gifts of a splendor that are suitable only from one royalty to another. To me she sent another such gift. It could feed Sicily for a year; but what have I to do with jeweled headdresses and emerald cats. By the Immortal Gods, I let her steward, the blockhead Hammonios, know that I am not a drunken actor and that I am a man who more values a gift by its appropriateness than by its expense. “Has the library at Alexandria no manuscripts?” I asked him.
The spell cast by this Queen is greatly diminished by the closer view. I indulge a theory that each of us has one age in life toward which we are directed as iron filings are directed toward the north. Marc Antony is forever sixteen and the discrepancy between that age and his present years makes for an increasingly sorry view. My good friend Brutus has been a del
iberative and judicious fifty since the age of twelve. Caesar is at forty—a Janus looking toward youth and age, irresolute. By this law, young though she is, Cleopatra is a woman of forty-five, which renders what youthful charms she possesses embarrassing. Her plumpness is the plumpness of a woman who has had eight children. Her walk and port is much admired but not by me. She is twenty-four; her walk is the walk of a woman trying to give the impression that she is twenty-four.
One must be on the alert to recognize these things, however. The prestige of her title; the magnificence of her dress; the effect of her two signal advantages—namely, her fine eyes and the beauty of her speaking voice—subdue the unwary.
XXXIV Letter and Questionnaire: Cleopatra to Caesar.
[October 9.]
My Deedja, Deedja, Deedja—Crocodeedja is very unhappy-happy, very happy-unhappy. Happy that she is to see her Deedja on the night of the twelfth, all the night of the twelfth, and unhappy that the night of the twelfth is a thousand years away. When I am not with my Deedja I sit weeping. I tear my robe to pieces, I wonder why I am here, why I am not in Egypt, what I am doing in Rome. Everybody hates me; everybody sends me letters wishing me dead. Cannot my Deedja come before the twelfth? Oh, Deedja, life is short, love is short; why cannot we see one another? All day and night other people are seeing my Deedja. Do they love him more than I do? Does he love them more than he loves me? No, no, there is nothing in the world that I love more than my Deedja, my Deedja in my arms, my Deedja happy, happy, happy in my arms. Separation is cruel, separation is waste, separation is meaningless.
But if my Deedja wishes it so I weep; I do not understand, but I weep and wait for the twelfth. But I must write a letter every day. And oh my Deedja, write me a letter every day. I cannot sleep when night comes after a day when I have had no real letter from you. Every day there are your presents with five words. I kiss them; I hold them long; but when there is no real letter with the presents I cannot love them.
I must write a letter every day to tell my Deedja that I love only him, and think only of him. But there are other tiresome little things I must ask him, too. Things I must know so that I will be a dignified guest worthy of his protection. Forgive Crocodeedja these little tiresome questions.
1. At my party, at my rout, I go to the lowest step of my throne to welcome my Deedja’s wife. Do I also go to the lowest step to meet my Deedja’s aunt? What do I do to welcome the consuls and the consuls’ wives?
[Caesar’s answer: Hitherto all queens have come to the lowest step. I am changing all that. My wife and my aunt will be with me. You will meet us at the arch. Your throne will not be raised by eight steps, but by one. All other guests you will greet standing before your throne. This arrangement may seem to rob you of the dignity of eight steps, but eight steps are not a dignity for those who must descend them and you would have to descend them to welcome the consuls who are or have been sovereigns. Think this over and you will see that Deedja is right.]
2. The Lady Servilia has not replied to my invitation. Deedja, you understand that I cannot suffer that. I know ways to enforce her attendance and I must use them.
[Caesar’s answer. I do not understand you. The Lady Servilia will be present.]
3. If it’s a cold night, I shall not move an inch from my braziers or I shall perish. But where can I get enough braziers for my guests at the water-ballet?
[Caesar’s answer: Furnish the ladies of your court with braziers. We Italians are accustomed to the cold and we dress to warm ourselves.]
4. In Egypt royalty does not receive dancers and theater people. I am told I should invite the actress Cytheris, that she is received by many patricians, and that your nephew or cousin Marc Antony goes nowhere without her. Must I invite her? Indeed, must I invite him?—he comes every day to my court; he has very impudent eyes; I am not accustomed to being laughed at.
[Caesar’s answer: Yes, and more than invite her: learn to know her. She is the daughter of a carter but there is no woman of the highest aristocracy who could not learn from her what dignity, charm, and deportment are.
You will soon discover all the reasons for my admiration of her. In addition I am indebted to her for a personal reason: her long association with my relative Marc Antony has given me, in him, a friend. We men are for the most part what you women make us—and women too; for men cannot remake a woman who is herself ill-made. Marc Antony was and always will be the best athlete and the best-liked athlete in a provincial school. Ten years ago a few moments of sober conversation exhausted him and he would be fretting to balance three tables on his chin. Wars themselves employed but a fraction of his thoughtless energy. Rome lived under the menace of practical jokes which did not stop short of setting fires to entire blocks, to loosing all the boats on the riverside, and to stealing the garments of a Senate. He had no malice; but he had no judgment. All this Cytheris has remade; she has taken nothing away, but has rearranged the elements in a different order. I am surrounded by and hate those reformers who can only establish an order by laws which repress the subject and drain him of his joy and aggression. The Cato and the Brutus envision a state of industrious mice; and in the poverty of their imaginations they charge me with the same thing. Happy would I be if it could be said of me that like Cytheris I could train the unbroken horse without robbing him of the fire in his eye and the delight in his speed. And has not Cytheris had a fair reward? He will go no place without her, and with reason, for he will find no better company.
But I must close. A deputation from Lusitania has been waiting this half hour to protest against my cruelty and injustice. Tell Charmian to put all in readiness for a visitor tonight. He will enter, dressed as a night guard, through the Alexandrian port. Tell Charmian that it will be nearer sunrise than sunset; but as soon as ardor at war with prudence can effect it. Let the great Queen of Egypt, the phoenix of women, sleep; she will be awakened by no ungentle hand. Yes, life is short; separation is insane.]
XXXIV-A Cytheris, the actress, at Baiae, to Cicero, at his villa near Tusculum.
[This letter, written the previous year, is appended here to illustrate further the subject treated in Question 4 of the preceding questionnaire.]
The Lady Cytheris presents her profound respects to the greatest advocate and orator which the world has seen and to the savior of the Roman republic.
As you know, honored sir, the Dictator has directed that a collection of your witticisms be prepared for publication. Word has reached me that the collection contains an account of the table conversation carried on at the dinner which Marc Antony gave in your honor some three years ago and includes some remarks of mine which now appear to be disrespectful of the Dictator.
I implore you, encouraged by the generous words which you have so frequently and graciously bestowed on me, to remove any such expressions as may be ascribed to me at that time.
It is true that during the Civil Wars I felt differently toward the Dictator. My two brothers and my husband fought against him and my husband lost his life. Since then the Dictator, however, has pardoned my brothers, with the clemency that distinguishes him; he has given them lands, he has introduced reforms into our troubled state; he has won our hearts and our loyalties.
Next year I am retiring from the stage. My retirement and my old age would be rendered a misery by the thought that these impatient words of mine were in circulation, and in the wide circulation destined for any work that bears your illustrious name.
This misery you alone could spare me. As a token of my gratitude and my admiration, kindly accept the manuscript which I enclose. It is the prologue which Menander wrote for his “The Shipwrecked Girl” and is in his own hand.
XXXV Caesar to Clodia.
[October 10.]
It is with regret that I see that appeals will be lodged with me urging that you be excluded from a reunion which includes all the respected women in Rome. No reports have yet reached my attention that would justify your exclusion.
There is, however, another
matter I must lay before you. I read many letters which were never intended for my eyes and whose writers and recipients are not aware of my knowledge.
No blame attaches to a woman who being loved is unable to love in return. In such a situation, however, a woman knows well the ways in which she may intensify or mitigate the sufferings of her suitor. I am referring to the poet Catullus, whose gifts to Rome are not of less consequence than those of her rulers and whose composure of mind I feel to be among my responsibilities.
Threats constitute a weapon all too easily placed at the hand of a man in power. I employ them seldom. Yet there arise cases when those in authority are aware that neither the persuasion of reason nor the appeal to mercy can alter the mistaken conduct of a child or of a wrong doer. When threats are of no avail, punishment must follow.
You may judge that the right action requires your retiring from the City for a time.
XXXV-A Clodia to Caesar.
The Lady Clodia Pulcher has received the letter of the Dictator, not without surprise. The Lady Clodia Pulcher requests permission of the Dictator to remain in Rome until the day following the reception of Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt; thereafter she will retire to her villa in the country until December.
XXXVI Caesar to Cleopatra: From the daily letters.
[Second half of October.]
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[In Egyptian. Many of the words of this letter are unknown today and are here supplied by conjecture. They are probably in the argot of the Alexandrian waterfront taverns and were acquired by Caesar during the riotous excursions made into that underworld during Caesar’s stay there a few years before.]
Tell Charmian to open this package carefully.
I stole it. I haven’t stolen anything since the age of nine and have been experiencing all the sensations of the housebreaker and the snatcher of purses. I see that I am now setting out upon that road of prevarication and play acting which is the criminal’s part. [It has been suggested that Caesar may have robbed his wife’s dressing table of a bottle of perfume.]