Page 51 of Agrippa

I then suspended the sitting and went straight to Caesar’s house.

Of course, it was a ruse, and a most effective one. As we sat talking in his atrium with Maecenas, Livia and that arch-survivor Plancus, who was in on the plot, a commotion in the street outside signalled that the Senate had arrived en masse to beg him to return.

Caesar sent one of his officers to tell them that he was resting and would be grateful if they dispersed, which reluctantly they did.

What would we have done if they had accepted his resignation? We had made no contingency plans for that. I suppose he would have found some excuse to return and restore order and would then have purged all those who had tried to seize control. In the end, the issue never arose. Even those among his opponents who guessed his withdrawal was a sham were forced to stare briefly into the abyss of a future without Caesar and realise that it would be chaos.

He left them to dwell on the prospect for another day, and then sent me back to summon the Senate for an emergency session to debate their response.

I called on Plancus to speak first.

He reported that he had consulted Caesar, who had reluctantly agreed to return on the following conditions. That whereas the Senate would continue to draw lots among themselves to decide the governors of the proconsular provinces of Africa, Asia, Greece, Sicily, Sardinia, Crete and various other unimportant territories, Caesar for the next ten years would have complete control of Spain, Gaul, Cilicia, Cyprus and Egypt, together with all their income, the power to decide who governed them, and responsibility for their defence. As these were the provinces where the bulk of the legions were stationed, it meant that he would have effective control of the army.

As to the question of his title, Plancus said that Caesar was content to remain merely the first citizen, but that he, Plancus, was sure the Senate would agree that this was hardly adequate. We had toyed with the idea of naming him after the founder of the city, but Caesar had decided that Romulus was too redolent of monarchy, and had settled instead on the dignified honorific of Augustus – ‘the Revered One’ – close to, but not quite, divine.

The proposal that he should be awarded the title in perpetuity was accepted with no votes against.

Caesar had been waiting nearby with his bodyguard. I went to fetch him. Together we entered the chamber to a standing ovation. I stopped to let him go ahead of me. Caesar walked calmly to the dais and stood for a while modestly acknowledging the cheers, pointing to this senator and that whom he recognised, smiling and nodding to them. Then he held up his hands for silence and settled himself in his chair.

The Senate moved on to discuss other business. Nothing more was said about the matter, and in this way, on a quiet winter’s afternoon, Rome’s ancient Republic died – without protest, violent overthrow or fighting in the streets. Most people did not even notice, let alone care.

From that day onwards, Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus became known simply as Augustus, a presence as inescapable throughout the world as air. His name was minted on the coinage and carved into stone on ten thousand statues, buildings, fountains and bridges. It was appended to statutes and proclamations. It was inserted into all the official prayers of the state religious cults, and it became customary – or at any rate, wise – for ordinary citizens to honour it with a libation before every domestic meal. Eventually, even the calendar was adjusted around it, so that henceforth events were spoken of as having occurred in such-and-such a year of Augustus.

Thus time itself was conquered, and gradually my old friend ceased to be a man, or even a monarch, and became instead an epoch.

Part Three

AUGUSTUS

XVII

This morning I asked my doctor for the truth about my illness. He is supposed to be one of the best in Italy. Livia recommended him.

He hummed and hawed, said my heart was strong, my fever had come down a little, that for a man of fifty I was generally in excellent condition.

But my leg, I said – look at it! It is swollen black, and now the blackness has spread above my knee! The whole limb stinks of rot. I can hardly abide to be in the same room as myself! I know death when I see it – I’ve spent half my life staring it in the face. Tell me honestly, how long before this thing kills me?

For the first time he dared to meet my gaze, although his eyes were shifty and full of fear.

A week, he answered. Maybe longer. Possibly less.

I’d have sent him packing with a kick up his fat Greek backside if I’d had the strength to get out of bed.

So there it is – the mortal sentence that awaits us all. I can’t say it frightens me. I have always lacked the imagination to waste my time worrying about oblivion. A man dies while on campaign. His comrades divide his kit. The march goes on. Eventually their turn will come as well. What more is there to say? I suppose this is one reason why I was a successful soldier. To be unafraid of death does bestow a certain advantage.

Still, it is curious to think that it has come to me first, even though Augustus was the one who was always sick.

Ah, Augustus! You are in Greece, which almost certainly means I shall never see you again. You would have to sprout wings to get home in time to say goodbye. Mind you, you’re supposed to be the son of a god, so perhaps you will.

I have just written to Livia, informing her of my condition and asking her to let you know.

Italy is secure. The borders are quiet. There is no need for you to hurry home. But even after all these years, ambitious men still lurk in the shadows who could try to take advantage of my disappearance. Therefore, I have requested that Livia not breathe a word to anyone apart from you.

Especially not to Julia.

I could not bear to have her see me in such a state. Let her and the children remember me as I was.

In the meantime, I must get a move on with my memoir, while I still can.