Page 72 of Agrippa

Augustus is still in Gaul. I am sure he does not know of it. I doubt anyone dares tell him. But he is strict about such failings in others, if not in himself, and I urge you to return to Rome and put your house in order before he gets back.

If you wish me to have a word with her, I shall. But knowing her character as I do, I fear such an intervention may have the opposite effect.

Forgive me for bearing bad news. Remember I am your friend, and do not hold it against me.

Accursed letter!

I dropped it as if it were a scorpion I had somehow picked up by accident, and stood staring at it lying on the carpet for a while until I steeled myself to retrieve it and read it through again.

I refused to believe it.

I did not – I could not – I would not – accept that Julia – my wife, the mother of our four children – would flaunt herself in such a fashion, knowing it was bound to get back to me. I had never heard of this Sempronius Gracchus. I told myself it was at least as likely that the rumours were false, perhaps part of some plot by Maecenas to undermine me. I felt a great surge of hatred for him – that half-man, that eunuch, that feline and malicious purveyor of tittle-tattle! I have searched my heart before sending you this message … I sneered at the words. I did not trust for an instant his protestations of reluctance. I was sure he would have relished writing such a letter.

Once I had calmed down, I recognised that whether the report was true or false, I could not remain on Lesbos any longer and allow such poisonous chatter to fester in my absence.

I appointed a legate to finish the work in the region on my behalf and made plans to return to Rome.

I reached Italy in March, a few weeks short of my fiftieth birthday.

As I travelled north from Brundisium, I sent messages ahead to Julia to alert her to my approach. I was anxious not to surprise her. Weak as it sounds, I wanted everything to be normal on my return.

And normal it was. She greeted me in some demure and shapeless grey woollen dress, the epitome of a modest Roman matron. After we had embraced, she took my hand and led me into the nursery, where once again I found myself staring down at a baby born in my absence – my eighth child. She had even set up a spindle next to the cot and told me she had been making infants’ clothes – a concept so improbable the memory of it makes me smile even now, despite everything.

She announced she had arranged a celebration for my birthday. I replied that I was not much in the mood for celebrating.

– Nonsense, Agrippa! Half a century is a milestone in anyone’s life. It must be marked. Why would you not want to celebrate it?

I braced myself and said that I had heard disturbing stories of her behaviour in my absence.

– What kind of stories?

– Of your infidelities.

– Infidelities? With whom?

– The name of Sempronius Gracchus has been mentioned, whoever he may be.

– Gracchus is a nothing, a nobody, a perfumed dandy. I can assure you if I were to take a lover it would not be Gracchus. Who told you such a tale?

I hesitated.

– Maecenas.

– But you cannot believe a word that comes out of Maecenas’s mouth! You have said so often enough yourself.

I had to concede the truth of this, and after a few more questions and scoffing denials there was little I could do except let the matter lie for a while.

The next day, I went to see Maecenas, and reported Julia’s insistence that the charges were false. If that was the case, I told him, I would never forgive him for passing on unfounded gossip.

He sighed and folded his arms and looked at me with something close to pity.

– I feel for you, my friend. I have been in a similar situation myself. Can you imagine what it was like for me when Terentia took up with Augustus? I could not eat. I could not sleep. There was nothing I could do, given his position, except wait for him to grow bored of her – which of course in time he did. Like father, like daughter! Perhaps she has tired of Gracchus already. But there have been others, and there will be more. My agents can provide you with names if you like. For example …

And then he mentioned a couple of handsome young officers on my staff. That was when I realised he was probably telling me the truth, and my anger towards him began to evaporate.

I told him a full list of names would not be necessary.

– What is the point of torturing myself? I can hardly divorce her. Our marriage is integral to the stability of the state.