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Roma.The novel of ancient Rome - Saylor Steven (книги онлайн полные версии бесплатно .TXT) 📗

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Postumia took a bite of the stuffed grape leaf, then returned the remainder to a small silver plate and waved for a servant to remove it. She was finished eating and ready to pontificate for the benefit of the younger Vestals. “Times of piety and of impiety occur in cycles. I grew up in a permissive era, but we now live in an age not so very different from that of the Decemvirs. In recent years, due to the press of constant warfare, the election of consuls has been suspended, and Roma is ruled instead by six military tribunes. As for the conflict between the classes, if anything, it may be worse than in the days of the Decemvirs, because the patricians continually retreat and the plebeians continually demand more concessions-more land to settle, more debt-relief, more voting rights. If our leaders would use their power to reinstate the intermarriage ban, in that sphere at least Roma would again be in harmony with the will of the gods, and the classes might resume their rightful roles in the state. Such an idea did not originate with me; it comes from our sacred father, the Pontifex Maximus, who told me only yesterday that he intends to petition the military tribunes for a return of the intermarriage ban. And in this house, we do not contradict the Pontifex Maximus. If you have a conflicting opinion, Foslia, keep it to yourself.”

“Of course, Virgo Maxima.” Foslia’s sardonic tone seemed to indicate that, while she might keep her opinions private, she would keep them, nonetheless. “And of course you’re right to say marriage, at least any marriage involving a patrician, is a religious matter. But we were discussing the Veii Question, and surely that is about only two things: money and politics.”

Postumia shook her head. “To the contrary, Foslia, can you not see that the Veii Question is very much a religious matter? Pinaria, you’re very quiet this evening. You may still be the youngest, but you’re no longer a novice. Speak up.”

Pinaria swallowed an olive stuffed with goat cheese. “Very well, Virgo Maxima. It seems to me, more than ever, that Roma’s conquest of Veii is a mirror of the Greeks’ conquest of Troy. First, it took ten years. Second, it came about by a clever stratagem rather than by brute strength. Third, while it seemed to solve all our problems at the time, instead, like the Greeks after Troy, we discovered that the conquest merely led to more dissention at home.”

Postumia nodded thoughtfully. “Continue.”

“Veii was so rich, people thought the capture of so much booty would relieve the tensions between the classes. Surely, they thought, there would be enough, and more than enough, for everyone in Roma. But when the time came for the division of the spoils, no one was pleased. The temple to Juno Regina, and the ceremonies to dedicate the temple, cost a great deal more than anyone expected. Added to that was the tenth portion promised by Camillus to Apollo and his priesthood. The plebeians said they were being robbed of booty for which they had spilled their blood. In reply to that, the patricians said it was sacrilegious of the plebeians to try to claim booty that had been promised to the gods.”

“And the result?”

“Bitter accusations of unfairness and greed from both sides.”

“Which is certainly nothing new,” said Foslia, who could never stay out of any discussion for long. “For generations patricians have argued, quite reasonably, that everyone must pull together for the common good. We must be united under our leaders, all willing to sacrifice in the face of so many threats from so many enemies. And for just as long, selfish, shortsighted plebeians have done nothing but complain. At times, they’ve even refused military service!”

“Of course…” Pinaria said, then hesitated. Certain ideas which she overheard outside the House of the Vestals were not always welcomed by her fellow Vestals, especially the Virgo Maxima.

“Go on,” said Postumia.

“Yes, go on,” said Foslia, with a mischievous glint in her eye, hoping to see the Virgo Maxima provoked.

Pinaria spoke slowly and carefully. “These are not my ideas, you understand; but one does hear things. For instance, there are some who argue that, while the temple itself honors Juno Regina, the money to build the temple actually goes into the pockets of the contractors chosen by the state. Most of those contractors are patricians and are already quite rich. And because those contractors tend to use slaves-men captured in war and sold to them cheaply by the state-plebeian workers see no profit at all from such a project.”

“Their profit is the good will of the goddess, who is pleased by her temple!” declared the Virgo Maxima. “To reduce the building of a temple, a sacred act, to a squabble over money is nothing less than sacrilege, of the sort spewed by the worst rabble-rousers. Really, Pinaria, you must learn to allow such talk to go in one ear and out the other. Think about it: Simple reason dictates that the gods must always be given the first and greatest portion of the spoils. Otherwise, we might lose their favor, and then where would we be? Veii would have conquered us, instead of the other way around! After the gods, our responsible, hard-working leaders, the men who ensure the proper worship of the gods, must be given their rightful share. And after that, the plebeian rabble should be satisfied with whatever spoils may remain-just as they should be satisfied to marry within their own class! Instead of nurturing wild notions that they themselves are fit to rule the state, they should submit to those whose families have proved themselves best able to guide the destiny of Roma. This is a dangerous world, full of enemies. Only proven leadership that is pleasing to the gods can preserve us from catastrophe.”

Pinaria bowed her head. “The Virgo Maxima speaks wisely.”

The other Vestals, including Foslia, nodded and echoed her words: “The Virgo Maxima speaks wisely!”

“And yet…” Postumia’s voice trembled with emotion. “And yet it sometimes seems that our worst enemies are inside the city, not outside. The rabble may be unfit to rule, but they still have their tribunes and other powerful men who cater to them, as we have seen demonstrated only too well in recent days.”

The other Vestals put aside their food. The Virgo Maxima was alluding to a topic painful to them all.

Foslia broke the uncomfortable silence. “Is there no hope for Camillus, Virgo Maxima?”

Postumia sighed. “The situation remains unchanged. Even as we speak, Marcus Furius Camillus is making ready to leave Roma. Rather than face trial, he will go into exile. We all know how this lamentable state of affairs came about: In their fury over the spoils of Veii, the rabble decided to vent their spite on the man most responsible for dispensing those spoils. They accused Camillus of breaking the law. They claim he wrongfully enriched his friends and family members.”

“But surely he isn’t guilty,” said one of the Vestals.

The Virgo Maxima shook her head. “Alas, men wise in the ways of the courts tell me otherwise. By the strict letter of the law, Camillus did indeed commit improprieties. He is unable to account for all the wealth that was dispensed. The courts take such matters very seriously and cannot look the other way. Really, these laws are written as if they were intentionally fashioned to give a weapon to the enemies of any man in public life. The higher a man rises, and the more far-ranging his decisions, the more vulnerable he becomes to charges of corruption. And so, Camillus-our beloved Camillus! — is being driven from Roma. Only three years ago, every man, woman, and child was shouting his name in the streets, praising him as our savior. And now, this! Vesta forgive me for saying such a thing, but if Camillus were to raise arms against us, as Coriolanus did, I should hardly be able to deny that the city deserved it! But of course, he will never do that. Camillus is too great a man, and too loyal a Roman, no matter that his enemies have made him an outcast. Tonight, when we gather at the temple, we must all remember him in our prayers. May Camillus be comforted and kept warm by Vesta’s fire, however far he may journey from the hearth.”

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