THE SENATE: A SESSION AND A DEBATE
=283. Apparent Authority and Importance of the Senate.=--Powerful
is the army and powerful its Emperor, yet there is a body to which
they both pay lip-service, and which still enjoys a prestige and moral
authority that stamps itself upon the imagination of every man in the
Roman Empire--the “venerable Senate.”
Theoretically the Senate shares the government with the Emperor,
controls the state when there is a vacancy in the palace, selects
the new ruler and bestows on him the “proconsular” and “tribunician
power,”--the legal bases of his authority. It must be consulted by him
in every important act, and when he dies it decides whether he is to be
deified as a god, or suffer the awful “damnation of memory” (_damnatio
memoriæ_) branding him for all time as a tyrant. It can also declare
him suspended or deposed from office, set a price on his head and
order the armies to refuse him obedience. Its formal decrees (_senatus
consulta_) constitute, now that the old public assemblies have been
abandoned, the most binding kind of law.
The Senate also governs directly all of those provinces (about half of
the whole Empire) which do not require any army for defense or control.
It has its own treasury, and it can strike copper money, although gold
and silver are reserved to the Emperor, making a considerable profit on
the seignorage. It acts as supreme court of appeal on all cases which
rise in the provinces under its government. By the vote of its members
are elected all those “old Republican” magistrates from consul down to
_quæstor_ (treasury supervisor) which carry along with the temporary
glories of office the right to a life seat in the Senate itself--making
the latter practically a self-perpetuating body. A good Emperor swears
at the beginning of his reign, “I will never put any senator to
death”--_i.e._ the Senate shall judge all capital charges against its
members, even those involving treason.
Besides these prerogatives senators alone are eligible for the highest
military commands and the governorships of all the larger imperial
provinces. As already stated (see p. 156), the senators in addition
constitute the highest aristocracy; they must each possess at least
1,000,000 sesterces ($40,000) taxable property, and they enjoy all
the influence that comes to vested prestige and wealth in an age that
cringes to titles and fortunes. On this showing, the 600 senators
apparently constitute the most powerful organ in the government.
=284. Actual Weakness of the Senate.=--Unfortunately much of this brave
showing is only a glittering mask. The Senate has not one swordsman
in Rome or in any of its provinces to obey the summons, “Resist the
Emperor and his Prætorians.” It ordinarily has to stand helpless while
the army decides who is to be the next Cæsar in case of a contested
succession.
After Caligula’s murder in 41 A.D. the Conscript Fathers debated
earnestly: “Shall we restore the Republic? If not that, which aspiring
nobleman can we elect as Emperor?” Meantime, the Prætorians, pillaging
the palace, found the terrified and demoralized Claudius hiding in a
closet; they dragged him forth and discovered a survivor of the Cæsars
whose dynasty they greatly wished to perpetuate. “_Ave Imperator!_”
rang their shout. Soon the senators were informed that their debates
were unnecessary--Claudius was being proclaimed in the Prætorian Camp.
The Fathers made haste to bestow on Claudius full imperial powers and
to congratulate him on his succession. Nobody doubted after that where
the real power lay.
Besides all this, without mentioning the army, the Emperor has every
senator personally within his grasp. He can strike any member from the
_album_ (Senate List) by use of his irresponsible Censorial Power.
Through that same power he can appoint any favorite to the order by his
mere fiat. In the elections held within the Senate, he can control the
choice for any office by announcing that he favors the aspirations of
such and such a friend; the “Candidates of Cæsar” are always elected.
In the debates it is a bold senator who dares to face the unpopularity
of opposing the Emperor’s suggestions;[175] and once let the monarch
indicate the slightest wish, a whole pack of servile favor-seekers
will instantly champion the proposition with fervent loyalty. Finally
by his “tribunician authority” the Emperor can veto any senatorial
proposal which he dislikes. The power of the “venerable Senate” seems,
therefore, to have vanished in thin air.
=285. Amount of Power Left to the Senate.=--This last is not quite
true, however. The Cæsars do not, as yet, represent an unvarnished
despotism; they need a cover for their autocracy,[176] and they have to
leave to the Senate a certain show of power. No new Emperor’s throne
furthermore is secure against pretenders until, after the army has
proclaimed him, the Senate has confirmed him, and no Emperor likes to
feel that his sole refuge is with the irresponsible swordsmen.
Besides all this, the moral prestige of the Senate is still so great
that even a Nero or a Domitian hesitates to flout that famous body
too openly. Finally, be it said, the task of governing the enormous
Empire is a tremendous burden. A reasonable monarch is glad enough to
throw upon the Senate a great many problems over which the “Fathers”
can exhaust their eloquence and which they probably can settle quite
as wisely as he. If they fail and the case is then dutifully referred
back to “Cæsar,” his own importance becomes all the greater. If they
succeed, he gains a reputation for moderation and liberality. The
senators, on their part, have long since ceased to dream of restoring
the old Republic. Since the accession of Nerva, 96 A.D., an era of good
feeling and equilibrium on the whole has existed. The Senate therefore
still vaunts itself as a coördinate branch of the Roman government.
=286. Organization and Procedure of the Senate.=--The Senate of the
Empire exists in form and procedure very like its predecessor under
the Republic. Its debates are the talk of the capital and are duly
reported in the Acta Diurna; and at present, with Hadrian out of the
city, its supreme presiding officers, the two consuls, affect to be the
most powerful personages in Rome, although some of the great permanent
ministers on the Palatine, and especially the Prætorian Præfect, have
firm doubts on the subject.
When Publius Junius Calvus is compelled to attend sessions of the
Senate, he has ordinarily been informed a couple of days in advance
by a _viator_ of one of the consuls bringing a personal notice to
his home, although urgent meetings can be summoned on much shorter
notice merely by sending forth a crier. There is no fixed quorum for
the Senate; although there are 600 lawful members, many of these are
high government officials absent in the provinces, others are retired,
elderly dignitaries very loath to quit their luxurious ease in their
Etruscan or Campanian villas. Since the post of senator is ordinarily
for life, the body contains an undue proportion of superannuated,
doddering old men who will only appear on great occasions.
Sessions can thus be held with only a very thin number, say fifty,[177]
although if the gathering is disgracefully small, those attending
can shout to the presiding officer, “_Numera! Numera!_” (“Take the
number!”) and insist on adjournment until the consul’s tipstaffs
and bailiffs have rounded up a respectable fraction. On this day in
question, however, there is no danger of a slim attendance. Every
member in Rome is sure to be present, including certain invalids who
have to be helped out of their litters and led inside by their freedmen.
Sextus Annius Pedius, ex-proconsul of Asia has been impeached by
Publius Calvus and a fellow senator, Titus Volusius Atilius, for gross
extortion and malfeasance in his government. The case has been referred
to the Senate by Hadrian as lying within its special competence. Pedius
is of the highest aristocracy, but like most great men has made plenty
of enemies. Every possible social influence has been mobilized for and
against him. A great state trial, with an abundance of soaring oratory
is consequently in prospect. Every senator is in his element.
=287. The Curia (Senate House) and Its Arrangement of Benches.=--On
days when the Senate convenes, the clients can stream into the empty
atria of their noble patrons, collect their money doles and depart--the
patrons themselves have set off at first dawn for the council,
accompanied very probably (if it is not summertime) by link-boys to
guide them through the still darkened streets. They gather thus at
_prima luce_ in the rebuilt Curia at the Forum, although sessions can
be held in almost any other duly consecrated spot, and Pompey built a
special Curia near his own mansion in the Campus Martius for use when
he wished to deliberate with the Fathers.[178]
The Curia Julia has a magnificent hall with tiers of comfortable and
highly carved benches (_subsellia_) curving in a semi-circle not unlike
the legislative chambers of other times. The six hundred senators sit
fairly close together, so that the debates can be in easy voice. At
the entrance the consuls’ viatores and lictors check off the Fathers
entering to exclude interlopers, but there is no real secrecy. The
doors are numerous and stand wide, and a curious crowd is permitted
to linger around them; especially are the young sons of a good many
senators seen there, eagerly following all the proceedings wherein they
hope soon to have a part. (See p. 190.)
Facing the benches rises a low dais whereon is a line of curule chairs
for the consuls and prætors, also a long solid settee whereon ten
of the younger senators sit down solemnly together. These ten are
the tribunes of the Plebs,--shorn now of nearly all their ancient
authority, but still maintaining the “shadow of a great name,” a name
surviving from the time when, as in the days of such personages as
Gaius Gracchus, a tribune could be mightier than a consul.
=288. The Gathering of the Senators.=--The Fathers drop into their
seats. No law adjusts their precedence, but etiquette gives the front
row to the ex-consuls, the next banks to the ex-prætors, behind them
the former ædiles, tribunes, and quæstors with the _pedani_[179]
(senators who have never held elective office) modestly in the rear.
The defendant Pedius attended by several distinguished senators, his
relatives, all clad in the gray togas of distress and mourning, and
also by his two advocates both in conventional white, take seats in the
front benches. As they do this it is noted as of ominous significance
that several ex-consuls, who had come in first, promptly shift to the
other side of the hall.
At the center of the platform is observed a majestic, gilded statue of
Victory, with expanded wings, flowing robes, standing upon a globe, and
stretching forth a laurel crown.[180] Before it, upon a little altar,
a few coals are smoking. Presently a door at the side of the platform
opens, and a lictor signs with his fasces. The chatter across the now
crowded hall ceases instantly; all the toga-clad figures rise together,
while the presiding consul, Gaius Juventius Varus,[181] leads in the
array of magistrates, each in the ornate toga prætexta.
=289. Opening the Session: Taking the Auspices.=--Gravely this official
company seats itself in the curule chairs; gravely Varus casts a
handful of incense upon the altar before the Victory, and a cloud of
fragrance fills the hall. Then Varus, a tall and very majestic figure,
signs to the senators; they also are seated, next his voice sounds
clearly: “Bring forth the chickens!”
Not a lip twitches in all that sedate audience as two attendants
appear upon the platform setting down a small coop containing a few
barnyard fowls. The consul rises and stands beside them; next to him
takes station an elderly senator also wearing the prætexta and holding
a staff with a peculiarly shaped spiral head, a _lituus_--the badge
of office of an _augur_, lawfully entitled to proclaim the will of
the gods. In a dead hush the servitors pass a small dish of grain to
the consul who carefully scatters the grain within easy reach of the
chickens. The latter, carefully starved since yesterday, snap up the
grains eagerly. They even devour so fast that the wheat drops from
their bills, a most excellent sign. The augur bends forward intently,
watching their action, then motions with his staff: “_There is no evil
sight nor sound!_” he announces in solemn formula.
[Illustration: COOP OF SACRED CHICKENS USED IN
DIVINATION.]
A mutter of relaxation passes around the Senate. The servitors carry
out the chicken coop. The consul shakes his great draperies around
him with studied dignity and turns to the waiting assembly. “Affairs
divine” have been attended to; “affairs human” can now begin.
=290. Presentation of Routine Business: Taking a Formal Vote.=--Even
under the Empire it is a glorious thing to be consul, with the twelve
lictors, the temporary colleagueship with the Emperor, and the right to
preside over the most magnificent council in the world. Varus carries
himself with the dignity of a nobleman who has enjoyed a long career
in the Senate and now is at the summit of his aspirations. Every
tradition of the ancient body has been cherished; and the solemn forms
still differ little from those in the great conclave that piloted the
overthrow of Carthage.
The chief business of the day is the trial of Pedius, but a certain
lesser matter demands prior disposition. The consul has received a
dispatch from the proprætor of Sicily (a “senatorial” province) asking
if he can be empowered to remit the taxes of certain peasants near
Agrigentum, whose crops have suffered from the blight. Varus begins
with the time-honored formula, “That it may be well and fortunate to
the Roman people, the Quirites, we refer this thing to you, _patres
conscripti_.” Then in well-chosen words he gives the substance of
the governor’s request, and reads certain correspondence explaining the
plight of the peasants; having thus finished his _relatio_--the
“presentation of the problem”--he ends with another formula, “What is
it your pleasure to do concerning this matter?”
If the business be contentious, now might begin a vigorous debate; but
the governor’s request, based on wise policy, is not worth questioning
and almost everybody wants to proceed to the trial. The consul,
therefore, after a pause, demands, “Is it your will to grant this
thing? Let then all the Conscript Fathers favoring pass to the right!”
One garrulous old senator anxious for a chance to speak, indeed
begins shouting “_Consule! Consule!_” (“Take counsel!”--_i.e._ start
a debate.) If many others join him, Varus can be forced to permit a
long-winded discussion; but the troublemaker is without a second. The
senators with one accord seem rising and passing to the right side of
the Curia. Nobody ventures to go to the left. The motion thus carries
unanimously. The company resume their seats; then all eyes are again
upon the consul when with clear voice he commands: “Let the accusers of
Sextus Annius Pedius stand forth.”
=291. Presenting an Impeachment at a Senate Trial.=--Publius Calvus
rises from the front benches opposite the defendant, allows the many
folds of his toga to fall magnificently around him, thrusting them back
just enough to reveal the purple laticlave running down his tunic,
and carefully adjusts a ring so its great emerald will give precisely
the correct flash as he gestures. Directly behind him, inconspicuously
garbed stands a favorite freedman, avowedly to pass him papyri and
tablets which he will read, but really quite as much to whisper, “Drop
your tones!” “Speak louder!” or “Not so shrill!” and like promptings as
the oration progresses.[182]
The Senate, of course, cannot be expected to put in weary days
listening to intricate and sordid testimony. All this has been taken
before a special board of judges, and on their report there is no real
doubt of Pedius’s guilt. He has taken a bribe of 300,000 sesterces
($12,000) to banish a Roman eques from his province and has put seven
less-protected provincials, friends of this eques, to death; worse
still, he has taken still another bribe of 700,000 sesterces ($28,000)
for committing the unspeakable outrage of causing yet a second eques
to be first beaten with rods, next hustled off to the mines, then
actually strangled in prison. The prominent provincials from Asia have,
therefore, presented an absolute case against their evil ex-governor.
The lesser culprits have mostly confessed and received appropriate
penalties--and the only question really before the Senate is fixing the
punishment of Pedius.
He is a great noble with great connections. Ought a senator who has
held the consulship be banished and ruined even if he _has_ misgoverned
his province, taken bribes and done to death an eques--one of those
upstart half-nobles whom every true senator should scorn? Pedius
does not lack friends who have told him to brazen it out, and that
no severe penalty can befall him; and he glares defiantly across to
Calvus as the latter begins his argument.
=292. The Water Clocks; Methods of a Prosecutor; Applause in the
Senate.=--Just as the chief prosecutor commences, the servitors
reappear and set close beside him a large glass vessel upon a wooden
stand, perforated to empty slowly into a second vessel beneath, and
when thus emptied the upper container is promptly refilled. Calvus
has been informed he can have “only four water clocks” (about two
hours)--an outrageously insufficient number in his opinion, when many
an advocate can get twelve--but time must be given the other orators
and after that the Senate must discuss and vote.
Speedily Calvus warms to his task, and in long periods of sonorous
Latin his voice resounds through the Curia. He delights to expand upon
the enormity of the crime of putting to death not a mere provincial,
not a simple Roman plebeian, but a Roman eques. His speech abounds with
elegant and apparently impromptu allusions, metaphors and similes--duly
practiced half a month before. He goes out of his way to pay an
extended and fulsome compliment to the benignity and liberality of the
Emperor in condescending to let the Senate settle the issue. Words at
length almost fail him when he calls on the Fathers in the name of
Justice, Virtue, Heavenly Vengeance, and all the other guardian deities
of the state to punish the hideous misdeeds of such a criminal as
Pedius.
As he proceeds the Senate kindles at his eloquence. First his personal
friends who are sitting directly behind him begin to shout “_Euge!_”
and “_Sophos!_” Then the applause re-echoes from all over the hall.
Presently the occupants of the curule chairs on the platform begin to
clap, the consul half rises from his seat as if transported by the
oratory, and even Pedius’s own advocates politely join in that applause
which Calvus is professionally bound to return with interest as soon
as they begin to speak in turn.
Soon, all too soon, for the orator, and for those senators who love
“the good old times,” when an advocate could thunder all day long, the
four water clocks are exhausted. Calvus subsides, to be immediately
surrounded by his friends who compare his efforts to those of Cato,
Hortensius, Cicero, and such later masters as Cornelius Tacitus; while
the freedman immediately speeds off to inform Gratia of the “wonderful
triumph” of her husband--a triumph of oratory, whatever be the actual
verdict.
=293. Speech for the Defendant: Methods of a Professional
Advocate.=--After order is restored a grave old senator--Quintus
Saturius--arises to answer the prosecutor. He is a professional
advocate of fame, but evil report has it that in his youth under
Domitian he was a _delator_ (professional accuser), and won a fortune
by prosecuting the innocent victims of that bad Emperor’s disfavor.
Since then he has never been squeamish in accepting doubtful causes.
The law only allows him 10,000 sesterces ($400) as the fee from each
legal client, but the latter has plenty of indirect means of showing
his “gratitude,” and Saturius’s wealth now is enormous. This morning he
has carefully smeared eye-salve above his left eye--a token that he is
to speak for the defendant, not over the right as if for the plaintiff.
His toga also floats in billowy folds, his hands flash with costly
rings, and his powerful voice soon booms through the Curia.
[Illustration: CICERO DENOUNCING CATILINE BEFORE THE
SENATE: painting in modern Senate House in Rome.]
Saturius does not waste time denying that many of Pedius’s misdeeds
have been proved, but he praises at great length his client’s
“glorious ancestry” and distinguished social connections. As for
the accusations,--what if he did abuse his office? Was a member of
the great house of the Annii to be held down to the sordid rules
befitting mere plebeians and freedmen? What if an eques _had_ been
wrongfully done to death? Was not the fellow by birth a Phrygian who
had gained first citizenship and then the “narrow-stripe” merely by the
use of his wits? How could so great a man as the Proconsul of Asia be
expected to live on a beggarly salary of 1,000,000 sesterces ($40,000)?
At this point Saturius’s voice begins in fact to tremble with pathos.
How can the Conscript Fathers bring themselves to disgrace all the
defendant’s distinguished relatives who just now are sitting behind
him in the gray togas of public mourning? Think of his distressed wife
whose father and all three uncles were at least prætors! Think of his
brother who had been killed bravely fighting the Parthians! Think of
his two sons whose public careers would be blighted by the disgrace of
their father! Think finally of the Senate itself--what contempt upon
the “Venerable Order” if one of its most prominent members should be
ruined on the testimony of mere provincials and upstarts! etc., etc.
=294. Concluding Speeches; Interrupting Shouts; Personal
Invectives.=--Saturius, ere concluding, works himself into a fine
passion. He also gets sallies of applause--mostly from the self-same
men who have just cheered Calvus. But at some of his assertions there
are murmurs of dissent, and even open shouts such as “Drop that
argument!” “Don’t insult our intelligence!” Finally, however, he
sits down, having exhausted his four water clocks. More cheers, more
congratulations, everybody swears to his neighbor the day is proving an
intellectual feast.
The consul proclaims an interim; and the Conscript Fathers adjourn
to stretch their limbs, snatch a hasty collation provided by their
attendants and discuss the arguments. Then all resume when Marcus
Petreius, Pedius’s junior advocate, continues for the defense. The
hostile attitude of the Senate has impressed the defendant’s counsel,
and Petreius enters into an elaborate appeal for mercy, with many fine
invocations of the “Divine Clemency,” and reminders of how any senator
might some day find himself in Pedius’s horrid predicament. Petreius
is allowed “less water” than Saturius; he gets considerable applause,
however, when he finishes, but knowing members shake their heads: “They
cheer his oratory and not his cause.”
In fine mettle therefore Titus Atilius, Calvus’s associate, next sums
up for the prosecution. Atilius is a relatively young man, as yet only
an ex-quæstor; and to-day is his glorious opportunity. Carried away
on a flood of invective, he allows himself, as is permitted by usage,
to cover not merely Pedius but even Pedius’s advocate with a storm of
bitter personalities. When he thunders against Saturius’s sycophantic
career there are wild shouts of applause from all over the Curia; and
more applause follows when he ridicules certain physical infirmities of
the miserable defendant.[183] Pedius rises with supplicatory gestures
and appeals loudly to the ten tribunes, “Oh, very noble tribunes
protect me!”--but the ten sit stolid and silent upon their bench and
he subsides with blenching cheeks. His advocates, exchanging knowing
glances, are seen to be gathering up their tablets.
=295. Taking the Opinion of the Senate.=--At last Atilius’s “water”
has likewise ended. Amid another whirlwind of applause and rush of
congratulating friends he takes his seat. The consul Varus rises with
extreme dignity, and beckons with his hand. Every senator instantly is
tense and silent.
“We do now,” proclaims Varus, “take the opinions (_sententiæ_)
of the Conscript Fathers concerning that which it befits should be
done in the case of Sextus Annius Pedius this day arraigned and tried.
You have heard his accusers and his advocates. I shall call the album
of the Senate.” He holds up tablets whereon are listed the senators
in order of official rank and precedence; then turns to the members
seated directly before him, the magistrates-elect for the ensuing year,
summoning first the senior consul designate, Appius Lupercus:
“_Dic, Appie Luperce!_”
Appius Lupercus, an elderly aristocrat, the head of an ancient family,
rises amid a portentous hush. The “right to speak first,” possessed by
the Emperor when present, is invaluable. All the orators for either
side have really aimed their best arguments toward Lupercus, knowing
his prerogative, but his “cold looks” toward Pedius have already fallen
as ice upon the friends of the defendant. His voice now carries through
the expectant Curia.
“Conscript Fathers:--It is true that Sextus Pedius is a man of exalted
birth; the more shame, therefore, that he has disgraced the name of
a _clarissimus_ of the Venerable Senate. It is true his victims were
either provincials or citizens of provincial origin:--the law is
impartial, the Roman Empire has been established upon the inflexible
rule of ‘piety’ giving alike to gods and to men that which is lawfully
their due. If he has outraged provincials the case is clear; long ago
the Emperor Tiberius expressed the ruling policy when he said, ‘A good
shepherd shears his sheep but does not flay them.’ If Pedius has also
outraged citizens, much more equites, wherein lies the boast ‘_Civis
Romanus sum!_’, if these men, whatever their original birth, cannot
demand lawful vengeance at our hands?
“My opinion, therefore, is this: let the defendant’s ill-gotten bribes
be confiscated to the treasury, and let Pedius himself be banished from
Rome, and Italy; let his lesser confederates be banished from Rome,
from Italy, and also from the Province of Asia. Since also Publius
Calvus and Titus Atilius have pleaded the cause of the provincials
with diligence and fearlessness, let them receive the thanks of the
Senate. Such is my opinion!”
A great murmur rises--applause with some shouts of dissent. “Hangman!”
“Butcher!” rise from the little knot of Pedius’s relatives. Then Varus
calls on the second consul designate, Atticus, who, rising stiffly,
says with clear voice, “I agree with the most noble Lupercus,” and
promptly takes his seat.
One by one the ex-consuls, each summoned by turn, announce that they
also agree with Lupercus, until one cynical old aristocrat, the
ex-consul Gavius, notorious for his own sensual life and the manner
whereby he enriched himself in Africa, yet powerful through his vast
wealth and influential connections, announces that he is confident
the Senate should show mercy. “Let Pedius disgorge the money and
forfeit the priesthood of Mars which he holds--that will be punishment
enough. A good lesson has been taught and the unfortunate man has been
disgraced enough already.”
=296. An Uproar in the Senate: an “Altercation.”=--Instantly the Senate
is in an uproar. The shorthand reporters[184] can hardly take down
all the interrupting shouts that are tossed back and forth: “How now,
Marcus Æmilius Gavius, will you let such a scoundrel go?” “What are
those provincials but scum anyway!” etc., etc. A violent “altercation”
follows, several senators rising and demanding that Gavius explain
himself. The old reprobate however cleverly stands his ground, and is
vigorously cheered by many who will not actually support his proposal.
At last the house cools down. The taking of the opinion now proceeds
among the prætors-designate and the ex-prætors. No senator can
speak twice, but each man, when on his feet, has great liberty of
action--several of the younger men half ironically support Gavius, and
one senator earns unpopularity by insisting on his right of the floor
and calling attention to the embezzlements reported in the African
municipality of Utica--a matter quite beside the question. Two or three
long and eloquent speeches are delivered in favor of Lupercus’s stern
proposal. It is growing late and nobody wants to call on the ex-ædiles
and other junior senators,[185] and cries are rising, “_Divide!
Divide!_”
=297. Taking a Vote of the Senate. A Sentence of Banishment.=--Varus
again rises, “Conscript Fathers: you have heard the opinions of these
very noble men of consular and prætorian rank. Two propositions are
before you. Those who favor the penalties for Sextus Pedius proposed by
Appius Lupercus let them walk to the right! Those the lesser penalty
proposed by Marcus Gavius to the left.”
The hundreds of togas rise together. Gavius is not without a certain
minority of supporters who start with him to the left, but most of
these, seeing how many ex-consuls of birth and character are following
Lupercus, desert Gavius, who is left with only a trifling band around
him. There is no need for Varus to count the result. Even while the
Senate is dividing the luckless Pedius, with his kinsmen and advocates,
is seen gliding through a side exit. It is the defendant’s right thus
to anticipate sentence and to slip away with as little ignominy as
possible into exile.
At a word from the consul the senators return to their seats. The long
shadows of evening are stretching through the doors of the Curia, as
Varus announces that Sextus Pedius having been convicted of high crimes
is banished from Rome and from Italy. He must quit the city to-morrow.
He must quit Italy in twenty days. Should he tarry or return he will
be “cut off from fire and water,” and dealt with “after the ancient
custom”--_i.e._ he will be scourged with his head in a forked
stake, then sewed in a bag with a cock, a dog, and a viper, and flung
into the sea.
Everybody is anxious to be gone. In the great mansions six hundred
expensive cooks are fuming over the delay to six hundred expensive
dinners. The terrible fate of Pedius will make talk for all Rome
through ten days. Varus raises his hand and at length pronounces
the sonorous ancient formula, “_Nihil vos moramur, patres
conscripti_”--“We detain you no longer, Conscript Fathers.”
Publius Calvus and Titus Atilius are escorted homeward by groups of
fellow senators as if they were triumphant generals. Their skill,
eloquence, pathos, and legal learning are praised to the skies. Each
is assured that “he has rendered himself and his friends immortal!”
Each to-morrow will begin rewriting his speech, introducing many
fine arguments which he has had no time to utter.[186] These will be
embalmed in his published works which will be presumably carried some
day, tied to poles, in a conspicuous place in his funeral procession.
So ends a typical meeting of the Senate under the Empire; noble forms,
much dignity, a perfect river of eloquence, a judicial decision in
this case conforming with justice, but handling no great issues of
diplomacy, high finance, or peace or war. Already Pedius’s friends are
consoling him, as he drearily prepares to retire to Macedonia: “In a
few years at worst we can get your pardon from the Emperor.”