Chapter 29

71 Yet that war found you absent, partly through cowardice and partly through lust. You had tasted your fellow citizens’ blood—or rather, drained it. You had fought in the front rank at Pharsalus. You had killed Lucius Domitius, a man of the highest distinction and noblest birth, and had hunted down and most cruelly slaughtered many others who escaped from the battle, men whom Caesar might perhaps have spared, as he spared some. After exploits so great and of such a kind, why did you not follow Caesar to Africa, especially when so much of the war remained? And so, what place did you hold with Caesar himself after his return from Africa? What was your standing? You had been his quaestor when he was a general, his master of the horse when he was dictator, a prime mover in his war, a promoter of his cruelty, a partner in his plunder, and, as you yourself used to say, his son in his will. You were called upon to pay the money you owed for the house, for the gardens, for the confiscated estate.

72 At first you answered with outright defiance and—to avoid seeming wholly against you—what you said was almost fair and just: “Gaius Caesar demands money from me? Why not I from him instead? Did he win without me? He could not even have done so. I brought him the pretext for civil war; I proposed ruinous laws; I took up arms against the consuls and generals of the Roman people, against the senate and the Roman people, against our ancestral gods, our altars and hearths, against our country. Did he win for himself alone? When men share the crime, why should they not share the spoils?” You were demanding your rights. But what did that matter?

73 He had the greater power. And so, brushing aside your bluster, he sent soldiers both to you and to your sureties. Suddenly you produced that splendid notice of sale. How people laughed at so long a notice, so many properties of such varied kinds, among which, apart from a share of the estate at Misenum, there was nothing the man holding the auction could call his own! And what a pitiful sight the auction was: a few of Pompey’s clothes, and those stained; some dented silver vessels of his; slaves in squalor. It grieved us that anything survived of those remnants for us to see.

74 Yet the heirs of Lucius Rubrius stopped even this auction by a decree of Caesar’s. The scoundrel was caught fast; he had nowhere to turn. Indeed, at this very time an assassin sent by him was said to have been caught in Caesar’s house with a dagger. Caesar complained of it in the senate, openly denouncing you. Caesar set out for Spain, allowing you a few more days to pay because you had no money. Even then you did not follow. So fine a gladiator, and taking the wooden sword of discharge so soon? Is anyone, then, to be frightened of a man who has shown such cowardice in his own cause—that is, where his own fortunes were at stake?

71 You failed to do your part in that war. Both cowardice and your sexual appetites kept you away. You’d tasted your fellow citizens’ blood—or rather, gulped it down. You’d fought on the front line at Pharsalus. You’d killed Lucius Domitius, a man of the highest standing and birth. You’d also hunted down and brutally butchered many men who escaped the battle. Caesar might have spared them, as he spared some others. After so many great deeds of that sort, why didn’t you follow Caesar to Africa? So much of the war still remained. Then where did you stand with Caesar after he returned from Africa? How much did you count? You served as his quaestor when he commanded the army. As dictator, he’d had you as master of the cavalry. You’d led the push for war, urged cruelty, and shared the plunder. You even claimed he’d named you his son in his will. Yet he demanded the money you owed for the house, gardens, and confiscated property.

72 At first, you answered with outright defiance. And I don’t want everything I say to go against you. Your arguments were almost fair and reasonable. “Gaius Caesar wants money from me? Why not me from him instead? Did he win without me? He couldn’t possibly have done it. I gave him his reason for civil war. I proposed the destructive laws. I took up arms against the consuls and the Roman people’s commanders. I fought the Senate and the Roman people. I fought our ancestral gods, our altars and hearths. I fought our country. Did he win just for himself? If people share the crime, why shouldn’t they share the loot?” Your demand was fair. But what good did that do?

73 He had more power. So he brushed aside what you said. He sent soldiers to you and your guarantors. Suddenly you produced that wonderful auction notice. How people laughed! What a huge list! So many properties, of so many different kinds! But the man holding the auction owned none of them, except a share at Misenum. The auction itself was a sorry sight. There weren’t many clothes of Pompey’s, and those were stained. Some of his silver dishes were battered. The slaves were filthy. It hurt us that any of those remnants survived for us to see.

74 Still, Lucius Rubrius’s heirs blocked that auction under Caesar’s order. That crook was stuck. He had nowhere to turn. At that very time, people were even reporting that an assassin you’d sent had been caught in Caesar’s house with a dagger. Caesar complained about it in the Senate, openly attacking you. Caesar left for Spain. Because you were broke, he’d given you a few more days to pay. You didn’t follow him even then. Such a good gladiator—and you take your wooden retirement sword so soon? So should anyone be scared of this man? He was so timid about his own side—his own fortunes, I mean.