Lustrum

excrement at him, forcing him to retreat indoors to shake the filth out of his hair and tunic. He sought out the consul, Piso, and eventually found him in a tavern, where he pleaded with him to intercede, to no avail. After that he stayed at home. But even here there was little respite. During the day, demonstrators would gather in the forum and chant slogans at the house, calling Cicero a murderer. Our nights were endlessly disturbed by the echo of running feet in the street, shouted insults, and the rattle of missiles on the roof. At a huge public meeting called by the tribunes outside the city, Caesar was asked his opinion of Clodius's bill. He declared that while he had opposed the execution of the conspirators, he also disapproved of retrospective legislation. It was an answer of great political dexterity: Cicero, when told of it, could only nod in rueful admiration. From that point on he knew he had no hope, and although he did notactually retire to his bed again, a great lethargy took hold of him, and often he refused to see his visitors.
    There was one important exception, however. On the day before Clodius's bill was due to become law, Crassus came to call, and to my surprise Cicero agreed to receive him. I suppose he was in such a hopeless state by then, he was willing to take help from whatever quarter it was offered. The villain came in full of concerned words. Yet all the time he spoke of his shock at what had happened and of his disgust at Pompey's disloyalty, his eyes were flickering around the bare walls and checking what fixtures were left. 'If there is anything I can do,' he said, 'anything at all …'
    'I don't think there is much, thank you,' said Cicero, who plainly regretted ever letting his old enemy through the door. 'We both know how politics is played. Sooner or later failure comes to us all. At least,' he added, '
my
conscience is clear. Really, don't let me detain you any longer.'
    'What about money? A poor substitute, I know, for the loss of all one holds dear in life, but money would be useful in exile, and I would be willing to advance you a considerable sum.'
    'That is very thoughtful of you.'
    'I could give you, say, two million. Would that be of any help?'
    'Naturally it would. But if I am in exile, what hope would I have of ever paying you back?'
    Crassus looked around as if searching for a solution. 'You could give me the deeds to this house, I suppose.'
    Cicero stared at him in disbelief. 'You want this house, for which I paid you three and a half million?'
    'And a great bargain it was. You can't dispute that.'
    'Well then, all the more reason for me not to sell it back to you for two million.'
    'I fear property is only worth what someone is willing to pay for it, and this house will be valueless the day after tomorrow.'
    'Why do you say that?'
    'Because Clodius intends to burn it down and build a shrine to the goddess Liberty, and neither you nor anyone else will be able to lift a finger to stop him.'
    Cicero paused, and then said quietly, 'Who told you that?'
    'I make it my business to know these things.'
    'And why would you want to pay two million sesterces for a patch of scorched earth containing a shrine to Liberty?'
    'That is the kind of risk one has to take in business.'
    'Goodbye, Crassus.'
    'Think it over, Cicero. Don't be a stubborn fool. It's two million or nothing.'
    'I said goodbye, Crassus.'
    'All right, two and a half million?' Cicero did not respond. Crassus shook his head. 'That,' he said, rising to his feet, 'is exactly the sort of arrogant folly that has brought you to this pass. I shall warm my hands at your fire.'
    On the next day, a meeting of Cicero's principal supporters was called to decide what he should do. It was to be held in the library, and I had to scour the house for chairs so that everyone should have a place to sit. I put out twenty. Atticus arrived first, then Cato, followed by Lucullus and, after a long interval, Hortensius. They all had to endure a hard passage through the mob that had occupied the neighbouring streets, especially Hortensius, who was roughed up quite badly, his face scratched, his toga splattered with shit. It was unnerving to see a man normally immaculate in his appearance so shaken and despoiled.We waited to see if anyone else would come, but nobody did. Tullia had already left Rome with her husband for the safety of the country, after an emotional scene with Cicero, so the only member of the family present was Terentia. I