prestige. There was no telling but that other victims of his craft and
greed, encouraged by this defeat, might turn upon him. Also, it looked as
though his Roman friends were beginning to fail him. Still, he was a man
of audacity; had grown into a vast confidence in himself and his star;
believed more in Simon Magus and his pleasing predictions than in God and
eternal justice: moreover, he said to himself that the Romans in this
small matter were trying to appear impartial, so as to break the force of
public criticism and suspicion when they should come to decide for him in
the larger matters pending. So he managed to keep up heart. Does not many
a bright day begin in clouds? Has not many a victory been introduced by a
check?
The next day brought on his suit against Cimon the Greek—to be tried in
the same place, before the same Judges and Prætor. He was on the ground
very early, with an enlarged body of sympathizers and a cheerful aspect.
His friends copied his example, and beat the copy. They were almost
hilarious. They thought that it would help to gain a battle, to assume
it to be already gained. The real object of Malus, however, in being at
the Basilica considerably in advance of time, was to get, if possible,
an opportunity to convey a note, or a word, through some sub-official of
the court, to one or more of the judges before they took their seats.
This he was able to do; for he made it worth the while for janitors and
pursuivants to oblige him.
When the Prætor and Judges came in he watched their faces for some
auspicious sign. But they were still very prudent—unnecessarily so, he
thought. In his heart he cursed them for it. It was carrying matters
quite too far. They might at least give him a glance that would mean much
to him while not compromising them. But they did not even look his way.
He would make them sweat for it some day.
Cimon, whom we have not seen for too many days, had come in escorted
by two officers; whom, however, he seemed escorting. Seated near him
were, not only Seti and Aleph, but also Alexander, who had arrived from
Rome during the last night, together with a large delegation from the
Diapleuston Seventy. This was not a pleasant sight to Malus: but it was a
relief, as he looked about from under his bushy eyebrows, to see seated
with his own company several Roman officers well known as the intimates
of Sextus Flaccus. “It is all right,” said he to himself. “It is all
wrong,” said the thoughts on the other side of the house—with a few
exceptions. These exceptions said, “_The Lord reigneth_; I will not fear
what man can do to me.”
According to custom, the court opened with an outline-statement from
the advocate of the plaintiff. The defendant had visited the warehouse
of Malus, was shown by his conductor through the department of eastern
goods, was observed to notice particularly the jewels. Soon after he
left, and before any other person had come in, the young man who had
conducted him, becoming disturbed as he thought of the suspicious
appearance of the stranger, returned to the jewelry room and found a
certain casket, containing gems worth fifty thousand _aurei_, to be
missing. Whereupon Malus set inquiries on foot, found out where the
stranger lodged, obtained a search warrant, found the casket hidden in
his room but empty, and had him arrested for theft. His client would say
whether this statement was correct.
According to custom, Malus made oath that the facts were as stated—made
oath “by Him who reigns in Heaven”; for such was the blanket oath that
could be taken alike by the man who believed in Jupiter, or in Zeus, or
in Osiris, or in Jehovah.
Then Piso outlined his defense. “Some facts had been correctly stated.
Cimon did visit the warehouse, was conducted through the jewelry
department, did notice the cabinet of jewels in passing. Also, the casket
was seemingly found in his room. But _he_ did not carry it there. That
was done by the agent of Malus who conducted the searching party, in
order to make out a case against Cimon, whom Malus had reason to fear and
wished to discredit and remove. His client would say whether the facts
had been correctly stated.”
Cimon made oath that, to the best of his belief, the facts were as stated.
Omitting the plea for the plaintiff which came next, the witness-bearing
on both sides, the questionings and cross-questionings by the advocates,
I will give a summary of Piso’s plea, which came last.
He began with gravely ridiculing the idea that anything in the appearance
of Cimon should have suggested to his conductor that he was a thief.
“The Judges can see for themselves that the story is incredible. So far
as appearances go, there is not a man here less likely to do what has
been charged upon him than Cimon, the Greek. Further, it appears from
the testimony of the Alabarch that this man, whose face is written all
over with the natural marks of honesty and high character, has a credit
with him for 200,000 gold staters; and so is a very unlikely person to
steal what might be, as everybody knows, a box of sham jewels, or even
an empty box. Further, the Superintendent of the jewelry department has
testified that he saw the casket in its place after Cimon had left; and
it cannot be claimed that he gave this testimony in revenge for his
dismissal from his post, because he brought me the information before the
dismissal took place. Further, the young man called Aleph the Chaldean,
and a much esteemed member of the University, has testified that he was
present when the search was made, and actually saw the Cretan agent of
Malus furtively slip the casket from the bosom of his own tunic as he
pretended to grope for it on his knees in the dimmer part of the room:
and the Cretan himself, at last tired of the wickedness he has been set
to do, and fearing the avenging heavens and his own awaking conscience,
has confessed that such was the fact—that Malus had employed him to play
that part, and, lest he should be tempted to run away with the casket,
had opened it in his presence and showed that it was empty, instead of
containing gems to the value of 50,000 staters.
“The advocate on the other side has asked what possible motive could
Malus have for attacking maliciously a stranger who had never crossed
his plans, or even his path, till a few days ago. That point was well
taken. People do not act without motive, and what seems to them a
sufficient motive: and it is incredible that so shrewd a man as Malus
should lay a plot to brand Cimon as a thief, and shut him up in prison,
and, in default of 50,000 staters, sell him into slavery, without some
powerful reason for doing it. And such reason exists. The plaintiff had
become aware that Cimon had unearthed a gigantic system of embezzlement
on his part which threatened to destroy his reputation, subject him to
heavy punishments, and sacrifice a large part, if not the whole, of his
fortune. To prevent this ruin he contrived this plan to smutch Cimon as a
low criminal whose accusation was unworthy of notice—also to remove him
from view and possibility of action, first by incarceration, and then by
sale into some distant servitude, as our laws permit in case of insolvent
debtors. All this will be proved when the next suit in order shall come
before the court.
“As this last is evidently a vital point, the Prætor and Judges, might do
well to consider whether it would not be well to reserve their decision
of this case until after the suit of Cimon against Malus has been tried.
They can safely be promised great additional light.”
Such, for substance, was what Piso said in a much enlarged form. Strong
opposition was made to his proposal for postponement by the Malus party;
but, after a good deal of mutual consultation on the part of the Prætor
and Judges, and, as the day was already far spent, it was at length
decided to reserve the decision in hope of additional light on the morrow.
Malus was now thoroughly roused. Under the stolid and uninterpretable
exterior with which he retired from the Basilica everything was
ablaze—all his shrewdness, all his determination, all his wrath, all his
daring. He was a born gambler, and could coolly stake everything on a
last throw. To-morrow he _must_ conquer. To-morrow he _would_ conquer.
The stars should fulfill themselves by fighting for him. Simon should
weave his spells and summon his mightiest spirits all the live-long night
in his behalf. But he would not neglect to supplement magic with all the
human expedients for winning success. He had prospered so long that he
had come to feel that prosperity was both his destiny and his due. He had
made people his prey so long that they seemed _made_ to be victimized:
he had the right of a fisherman to draw into his net as many fishes as
possible by all possible ways and means. He had used the right freely,
made many captures, and hitherto had not found a captive large enough to
break through his net. He determined that his steady run of good luck
should not fail him. He spent the whole night with his lawyer—trying to
forecast the course of accusation and evidence which the other party
would take, and the best ways of resisting the same. Among these ways
he decided should be a more decided and potent invoking of his Roman
friends to come to his aid. He thoroughly believed in the venality of
every Roman, from the governor downward or upward. Some could be bought
for less than others—but all could be bought. Perhaps his hints had not
been sufficiently broad: perhaps he had not hinted at sums sufficiently
large in the case of some. Now he would mend all that. The governor
should have an offer that he could not misunderstand; and one that even a
governor would find it worth his while to accept. So of the city Prætor
and Judges. Each should have his gratification, and a large one. It would
be costly work: but then he could easily and swiftly reimburse himself
if his situation could be made secure. Such was his confidence, after
all, in the sympathy of the authorities and in the power of money that he
was able to face the new day with untrembling nerves, despite the vigils
of the night. Had not trusty messengers gone in all directions with
instructions to make all sure, _sure_—regardless of expense?
The Basilica was crowded long before the hour. Malus had with him all
his friends of the day before, and, in addition, the leading men of
his synagogue. On the other side, besides those of the day before, was
a large delegation from the University, with Philo and Cornelius at
their head—also a large number of by no means showy people, apparently
small traders and shop-keepers, whose “moral support” the students
seemed at first inclined to laugh at, but, at a hint from Piso, ended in
making much of. Among these last was the Phenician of Chapter Second,
sitting between his Cretan oppressor and Malus’s discharged clerk. It is
doubtful whether Malus recognized these persons—they were well in the
rear; and besides he deigned only a glance at the nobodies, being on the
lookout for only somebodies, for people of station and weight and large
consideration. Of this class he as yet saw no addition to the other side,
save the students; and them he was prepared to see.
It was now almost time for the court to open, when an unusual stir was
heard at the main door of the Basilica; and shortly the Governor made
his appearance, attended by several sub-officials and supporting his
son Sextus. The young man was very pale, leaned hard on his father,
and, before he had advanced far, became faint and motioned toward the
first vacant seats they came to—which chanced to be on Malus’s side of
the house. Accordingly, the party fell in there, and busied themselves
in trying most officiously to help the invalid—offering this and that
restorative, making this and that inquiry, and generally making him as
miserable as they could well do by shutting off from him air and light
and quiet.
Malus was overjoyed. Plainly his last move had been a successful one. The
powers had at last shown their hand. Now he was _sure_ what the result of
the trial would be. He shot a glance of triumph at Piso; and was in the
act of rising to go and pay his respects to his excellency and offer his
services toward making the sick man still more uncomfortable, when the
voice of the crier was heard, loudly demanding order and announcing the
opening of the court. He looked at the tribunal. The Prætor and Judges
were already in their places. So the best he could do was to throw toward
his Roman friends, so opportunely arrived, as much of a mingled look of
concern and sympathy and welcome as his wooden face would permit.
According to Roman forms, the advocate of the plaintiff first stated
briefly his accusation. Some thirty years ago a merchant from Chaldea
visited the city; made Malus his agent for the sale of certain costly
goods to be sent to him from time to time; and, from that time to this,
made frequent and heavy consignments—at first satisfactorily, but with
growing dissatisfaction as the years went on, on account of the smallness
of the returns; this smallness being ascribed by Malus partly to losses
in transit from shipwreck and robberies, partly to enormous custom-house
exactions, and partly to poor markets. Finally, the suspicions of the
merchant became so strong that he sent his friend Cimon to Alexandria to
make inquiries and to take such action as his representative as should
seem fitting. Inquiries had shown that the statements of Malus were false
at all points—the receipts which he had given as harbor-master show that
all the goods sent have been received in good condition; the registers
of the custom house, which his excellency the Governor has allowed to be
examined, show that only a part of the goods received have been entered
for duty, and that the duty actually paid on the part entered has been
far less than reported (as also appears from the testimony of the chief
of the custom house): finally, the testimony of the leading houses
engaged in the eastern trade, including that of Malus himself, shows that
the market price for nearly all the thirty years has been far higher than
Malus has reported. Proof of all these statements would be submitted at
the proper time. In view of them it appears that Malus is indebted to
Cimon, the agent, in the sum of one million gold staters, exclusive of
the interest which the law allows in such cases. The Judges could now
see why Malus could wish to discredit Cimon as a low criminal and remove
both him and his companion from the scene. It was to discredit and, if
possible, prevent a suit that threatened him with ruin of both fortune
and reputation.
Did the plaintiff accept these statements as correct? Cimon accepted.
Then the advocate of Malus briefly denied the charge, and stated as
chief points of the defense—that the harbor-receipts, beyond those for
goods actually found registered at the custom house, are forgeries;
that what purported to be Malus’s accounts to his Chaldean principal
of exorbitant duties and poor markets were also forgeries; that very
many of his accounts and remittances had been ignored; that, instead
of owing the Chaldean anything, he had dealt with him on a principle
of large liberality, and had paid him considerably more than he could
equitably claim. He expected to show that his client was the object of
a great conspiracy—that people whom nobody knew, whose very names were
fictitious, and who certainly had no visible standing and reliability,
had conspired to rob and ruin a man of the first standing; and had
craftily taken advantage of old feuds and religious differences to secure
abettors. The case was really one between the allegations of nobodies
and those of a prominent and honored citizen.
Did the defendant accept these statements? Malus accepted.
Here Sextus Flaccus struggled to his feet, and with the help of his
father and the well-meant hindrance of the other Romans about him, feebly
and slowly made his way to the opposite benches. Malus was yet standing
and saw every movement. He had just finished one oath—and he felt like
taking another. It was with difficulty that he commanded himself enough
to sink quietly into his seat. What could this mean? Had his agents
betrayed him? Had the stars, and the magic spells, and the mighty demons,
and even Avilleus Flaccus at last failed him? He was almost stunned
by the sudden fall from the heights of confidence to the depths of
discouragement.
As soon as the room was again quiet, Piso produced his documents and
witnesses. After these had been canvassed by both parties, Piso proceeded
to sum up for Cimon somewhat after this manner:
“It is a very easy thing to cry ‘forgery’ and ‘conspiracy.’ Anybody
can do that, provided he has no conscience. I demand that my client be
_proved_ a forger and conspirator. Until that is done he has a legal
right to be considered innocent.
“I happened to foresee what course the defense would take, and so was
very glad to meet, yesterday, in the city, the Superintendent of Customs
at Myos Hermos. This man, who has held his post for more than forty
years, and is well known to the authorities here as reliable beyond
question, has testified that all the parcels of goods which we claim
to have been sent from the East were duly received and recorded at his
port, and thence forwarded to Alexandria, and acknowledged by Malus
as harbor-master. This settles the matter. Malus has received in good
condition all the goods sent him—his sworn denials and charges of forgery
to the contrary notwithstanding.
“Just here I call the attention of the Judges to a noteworthy fact:
we did not send for this venerable witness from Myos Hermos. Though
we thought of him and wanted him, we knew that we could not bring
him in time for the trial. How, then, does it happen that he is here
so opportunely? You have heard his explanation. He had no particular
business of his own to draw him to the city, nor was he aware of the
present suit; only he felt pressed and drawn to be here on a certain day
by a mysterious influence which he was afraid to resist. It looks as if
the very Heavens themselves were concerned to have justice done in this
case.
“We have seen that Malus received, in good condition, all the goods sent.
Only one question remains: Has he duly accounted for them all to his
principal? The accounts which have been submitted to the Court—accounts
apparently in his own handwriting, and which leading experts pronounce to
be genuine—say No. They say that many parcels have never been received;
that others came to hand in a damaged condition; that the duties on
almost all received were much larger and the market-prices much smaller
than the actual. But Malus declares that these accounts are not genuine:
they are clever counterfeits, gotten up for the purpose of robbing and
ruining him. The accounts which he actually sent were very different,
and correctly represent duties and prices and everything. All this he
simply asserts. He makes no attempt to _prove_ his assertion: and I
might well content myself with a simple counter-assertion. But I will
not do this. He says that he has sent to the East, accounts correct in
every particular, which have been suppressed. To this I answer that all
such accounts, with remittances, imply as many acknowledgments from the
receiver. No merchant here, least of all Malus, would go on sending
accounts with moneys, year after year for thirty years, without getting
acknowledgments for the same in the handwriting of the receiver or his
authorized proxy. Let Malus produce such acknowledgments. He cannot do
it. He has none to present.
“But Malus alleges that the case is one of contest of reputations. It is
the assertion of a Nobody against the denial of a Somebody. The word of
an unknown foreigner ought not to have any weight against the word of
that eminent citizen and saint whom everybody in Alexandria knows, and
knows to be full of riches and honors and virtues—the man who has never
wronged anybody; has never ground the faces of the poor; has never sought
to take advantage of Shaphan the Jew, or Athon the Phenician, or Epimetes
the Greek, or Plautus the Roman, or anybody else under the wide heaven.
Here, behind me, are a few of the people he has dealt with, ready to
testify that Malus is not the sort of man to commit smuggling, to swear
falsely, or even to be less than most merciful to those in his power!
Would Malus like to hear from some of his victims?”
On this Sextus Flaccus rose, and slowly, with feeble voice and many a
pause, proceeded to say that _he_ was a victim, though not an innocent
one. No doubt many were surprised to see him there, and still more
surprised to see him in that part of the room. All Alexandria knew
that he had long been intimate with Malus, and must know not a little
of his principles and practices. Indeed he had, he was ashamed to say,
to a certain extent shared in them. What sort of life he had lived,
disgraceful to himself and his friends, was notorious. It was not
necessary for him to specify—he would spare himself that pain. But this
he must say, that in all his follies and sins he was always encouraged
and often prompted by Malus. His intemperance, his violence, his
enmities, had always been fanned by that man to the utmost.
Without any help from Malus, he had been very hostile to Cimon the Greek,
and Aleph the Chaldean. The latter had hurt his pride, and so humbled him
in the presence of others that he burned for revenge. Malus whetted his
passion, and prompted him to measures for gratifying it which, bad as he
was, he would not otherwise have thought of.
“Malus proposed,” continued Sextus, after pausing to recover breath,
“that we make common cause against the two men. He told me frankly what
reason he had to fear them, and dwelt artfully on the reasons I had for
being revenged upon them. He tried to make me feel that we had a common
interest in humbling and suppressing them. He plied me with wine. This
and the violence of my passions for a while carried me away and made me a
ready tool in his hands.
“But I have changed my mind. I have been at death’s door; and the light
that came to me from behind it has shown me three things: my own folly
and guilt, the utterly unscrupulous character of my tempter, and the
thorough goodness of at least one of the men (and presumably of his
friend and preceptor) whom we had been seeking to injure—may Heaven
forgive me, as he has done! To him I owe my life and an opportunity to
mend my ways. We had sought to dishonor him, and he knew it. We had
done our worst to give him a felon’s name and fate, and he knew it. And
yet he delivered me from my enemies, rescued me from death, nursed back
my flickering life with the carefulness of a mother. I will tell the
whole painful story, if Malus chooses to have me; but it would be to his
disadvantage as well as to my shame. I propose, Heaven helping me, to
mend my ways after thus publicly confessing the sin of them. I advise
Malus to do the same.”
Sextus sank into his seat exhausted. The silence that followed for a few
moments thundered. What eyes were not turned on Aleph were fastened on
Malus. But the wooden face said nothing; only the wood was several shades
darker than usual.
Piso resumed: “The testimony we have just heard is as weighty as it was
unexpected. What Sextus Flaccus has now said about the principles and
practices of Malus has long been said under breath by great numbers who
have dealt with him. It is well understood in the city that Malus is not
a man to stop at any safe way of accomplishing his purposes of gain, or
any other purposes. A whole army of victims would appear against him, if
it could be understood that it would be safe to do so—would have appeared
long ago but for the conviction that the monster that devours them is
too big a monster and too well fenced by his scales to be successfully
attacked, or even complained of. He is the successor of the Lernean
Hydra, from whom all but Hercules felt compelled to hide.