The Roman (78 page)

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only to Jupiter Custos, but also to the other important gods of Rome, Juno and Venus. All the same, there were enough wreaths left to cover all the walls of the reception rooms and the circular banqueting hall in the Golden Palace. Nero�s return home, nevertheless, was not quite so agreeable as an outsider might have thought. Statilia Messalina was a spoiled and weak woman, but a woman all the same, and she would not tolerate Nero giving Sporus exactly the same marital rights as herself, so that he could exchange marital beds according to his whim of the moment. They quarreled so violently that it resounded throughout the Palace, but with Poppaea�s fate still fresh in his mind, Nero dared not kick his wife, and Statilia made the most of this. After a while, in his anger, Nero demanded his victory wreaths back from Juno, and other things which he could not do. In the end he banished Statilia to Antium, but that turned out to be only to her advantage. Statilia Messalina relives that day today and grieves for Nero, remembering his good points, as befits a widow. She often demonstratively decorates the Domitians� modest mausoleum, which can easily be seen by Mars field from the Pincian hill, near Lucullus� gardens, where in my youth I saw the cherry trees bloom with Nero and Agrippina. Nero�s bones rest in the tomb of the Domitians, it is said. There has been a good deal of trouble in the Eastern provinces over his memory. The people do not believe he is dead, but imagine he will come back again to remind us that his rule was a time of happiness compared with today�s tax-burdened State cupidity. Now and again an escaped slave appears in the East, proclaiming he is Nero and, of course, the Parthians are always glad to support such attempts at rebellion. We have crucified two false Neros. They were asked to demonstrate their identity by singing, but neither of them proved a singer of Nero�s quality. Anyhow, Statilia remembers him with flowers and decorates his tomb, if it is Nero�s tomb. Again I had postponed the matter which I find hard to recount by speaking of something else. Thanks to Nero�s triumph and his other political duties, I succeeded in postponing the executions for

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a long time. But finally the day dawned when we had to put the long-since determined death sentences before Nero. If I had found yet another excuse to postpone them, I myself would have been suspected of being pro-Jewish, even by my colleagues. To clear our reputation, we in the committee for Eastern affairs had made a thorough investigation into the actual situation within the Jewish colony in Rome and its danger to the security of the State after the Jewish uprising in Jerusalem. Many of us had grown wealthier during these profitable activities. With a clear conscience we could lay a reassuring account before Nero and the Senate. By a narrow majority we managed to convince the Senate that there should be no real persecution of the Jews, but that we should be content with weeding out suspected elements and talkative agitators. Our suggestion was based on sound reason and was accepted, despite the hatred of the Jews the rebellion in Jerusalem had aroused. To be truthful, I used my own means in preparing the case, because Claudia had so many Jewish Christian friends. For instance, Aquila with his crooked nose and brave Prisca would have certainly been taken with the rest. But I am a hardhearted man, a miser, a rogue who always manages to save himself and for whom your best friend Juvenal has not a good word. I expect my friends pay him well for copies of his verses. There is no joy among human beings like malicious joy. Let us rejoice then, you and I, that your bearded friend can at least pay his debts thanks to me, and without it costing me a thing. If I were as avaricious as he maintains, then naturally I should buy that cursed verse from him and allow my own publisher to reap the profits. But I am not like Vespasian, who even taxed the water a man makes. We once were discussing funerals, and he asked us how much we thought his funeral would cost the State treasury. We calculated that the ceremonies would come to at least ten million sesterces, a calculation which was not just a compliment but could be proved with the clear figures. Vespasian sighed heavily and said: �Give me a hundred thousand now and you can throw my ashes in the Tiber.� Naturally we then had to collect a hundred thousand sesterces in his old-fashioned straw hat, so the meal was an expensive one

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and the food had been nothing to boast about either. Vespasian loves simple honest customs and his own fresh country wine. For the sake of my position, I have many a time had to contribute to the building of his amphitheater. It will be the wonder of the world, and Nero�s Golden Palace will be nothing but a spoiled youth�s finicky mess in comparison. Why do I keep postponing my story time and time again? It is like having a tooth extracted. Swiftly and speedily, Minutus, and then it is over. And I am not guilty. I did everything I could for them, and no man can do more than that. No power on earth could have saved the lives of Paul and Cephas. Cephas returned to Rome of his own free will, although he could well have gone into hiding through the worst time. I know that nowadays everyone uses Cephas� Latin name, Petrus, but I prefer to use his old name which is dear to me. Petrus is a translation of Cephas, which means rock and which name he received from Jesus of Nazareth. I don�t know why. Cephas was no rock in mind; indeed, he was a rough and touchy man who on some occasions behaved in a cowardly way. He even denied all knowledge of Jesus of Nazareth on that last night, and in Antioch he behaved anything but courageously in face of Jacob�s representative who regarded it as a crime against the Jewish laws that he ate with the uncircumcised. But all the same, Cephas was an unforgettable person, or perhaps because of this. How can one know? It is said of Paul now that he had taken the name Sergius Paulus because Sergius, who was governor of Cyprus, was the most important man he converted. That is quite without foundation. Paul changed his name from Saul long before he met Sergius and only because in Greek it means the insignificant one, the worthless one, just as does my own name Minutus in Latin. When my father gave me my despicable name, he could have had no idea that he was making me Paul�s namesake. Perhaps it was in part my name which made me begin to write down these memoirs, to show that I am not quite such an insignificant man as I seem. The main reason, however, is because I am here at this resort, drinking mineral water, the physicians watching over my stomach trouble, and at first I could not find any other outlet to satisfy my need for activity. I also thought that you might find

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it useful to know at least something about your father when you one day come to wall in my ashes in the tomb in Caere. During Cephas� and Paul�s long imprisonment, I saw to it that they were well treated, and I arranged for them to meet and talk together, if under guard. As dangerous public enemies they had to be imprisoned in Tullianum, away from the anger of the people. That is not an especially healthy place, although Tullianum naturally has glorious traditions of many hundreds of years� standing. Jugurtha was strangled there, and there too Vercingetorix� head was crushed, and Catilina�s friends lost their lives there, and Sejanus� little daughter was violated there before her execution as the laws prescribe, since Romans never execute a virgin. Paul seemed to fear a painful death, but in such cases Nero was not small-minded, although he was angry about the Jewish rebellion and regarded all Jewish agitators as to blame for it. Paul was a citizen and had a legal right to be executed by the sword, a right the judges did not question at his last trial. Cephas was sentenced to be crucified according to the law, although I had no wish to inflict such a death on an old man and a friend of my father�s. I made sure that I could accompany them on their last journey on the fresh summer morning they were taken away to be executed. I had arranged that no other Jews should be crucified at the same time. There were constant crowds on the execution places because of the Jews, but I wanted Paul and Cephas to be allowed to die alone with dignity. At the road fork to Ostia I had to choose with whom I should go, for it had been decided that Paul would be taken to the same gate at which my father and Tullia had been executed. The judges had ordained that Cephas be taken through the Jewish quarter of the city as a warning and then crucified on the execution place for slaves near Nero�s amphitheater. Paul was accompanied by his friend the physician Lucas, and I knew Paul would not be offended, for he was a citizen. Cephas needed my protection much more, and I feared too for his companions, Marcus and Linus. So I chose Cephas. I need not have worried about demonstrations from the Jews. Apart from a few lumps of clay, Cephas had nothing thrown at

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him. The Jews were very Jewish, and despite their bitter hatred, contented themselves with silently watching a Jewish agitator being taken away to be crucified because of the rebellion in Jerusalem. Cephas had the usual plaque around his neck on which was inscribed in Greek and Latin: Simon Petrus from Capernaum, Galilean, enemy of the people and mankind. When we had left the city and reached the gardens, the heat began to be oppressive. I saw beads of sweat running down Cephas� wrinkled forehead and ordered the crossbar of the cross to be taken from him and given to an approaching Jew to carry. The soldiers had a right to do this. I then told Cephas to join me in my sedan for the last stretch, without a thought for the talk this would give rise to afterwards. But Cephas would not have been Cephas if he had not brusquely replied that he could carry the cross on his broad shoulders to the very end without help. He did not want to sit at my side but preferred, he said, to feel the dust of the road beneath his feet for the last time, and the heat of the sun on his head, in the same way as he had felt them long ago when he had traveled with Jesus of Nazareth along the paths of Galilee. He did not even wish the rope by which he was being led to be loosened, but said that Jesus of Nazareth had foretold this and he did not want to bring shame on the prophecy. Nevertheless he leaned wearily on his worn shepherd�s stave. When we reached the execution place, which was stinking in the heat of the sun, I asked Cephas if he would like to be scourged first. This was a merciful measure to hasten on death, although many barbarians misunderstand this. Cephas replied that scourging would not be necessary, for he had his own plans, but then he changed his mind and said humbly that he would like to go to the end in the same way as many witnesses had before him. Jesus of Nazareth had also been scourged. But he was in no hurry. I saw a brief smile in his eyes as he turned to his companions, Marcus and Linus. �Listen, both of you,� he said. �Listen, Marcus, although I have repeated the same thing to you many times before. Listen too, Minutus, if you wish to. Jesus said, �The kingdom of God is as when a man sows a seed in the earth, and sleeps and rises, nights and days, and the seed germinates and grows, but he himself

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does not know how. From the earth, the seed brings forth by itself first the straw, then the ear and then fills the ear with the corn. But when the seed is ripe, he sends the reaper, for then the harvest time has come.�� He shook his head incredulously, with tears of joy in his eyes, and he laughed joyously. �And I, foolish creature that I am,� he cried, �did not understand, although I constantly repeated his words. Now I understand at last. The seed is ripe and the reaper is here.� With a glance at me, he blessed Linus, and passed him his worn stave. �Watch over my sheep,� he said. It was as if he wished me to see this and be witness to it. Then he humbly turned to the soldiers, who tied him to a pole and began to scourge him. Despite his great strength, he could not refrain from groaning. At the lashes of the scourge and the sound of his voice, one of the Jews who had been crucified the day before awoke from his death throes, opened his feverish eyes so that the flies rose, and recognized Cephas, and even then could not refrain from mocking Jesus of Nazareth�s statement that he was Christ. But Cephas was in no mood for discussion. Instead he told the soldiers, after the scourging, that he should be crucified with his head downward. He did not feel worthy of the honor of being crucified with his head facing heaven as his Lord Jesus, the Son of God, had been. I had to hide a smile. To the very end Cephas remained the genuine Cephas, whose sound fisherman�s sense was needed to build the kingdom. I realized why Jesus of Nazareth had loved him. In that moment, I loved him myself. It is incomparably easier for an old man to die if he is crucified upside down so that the blood runs to his head and bursts his veins. A merciful unconsciousness will then save him from many hours of suffering. The soldiers burst out laughing and gladly agreed to his request, for they realized that in this way they would escape guard duty in the heat. As he hung on the cross, Cephas opened his mouth and seemed to attempt to sing something, although I thought he had no great cause to do so. I asked Marcus what it was that Cephas was trying to say.

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Marcus told me that Cephas was singing a psalm in which God was leading his faithful to green meadows and refreshing springs. To my joy, Cephas did not have to wait long for his green meadows. After he had lost consciousness, we waited for a while as his body writhed and jerked, and then, impatient with the smell and the flies, I told the centurion to do his duty. He had a soldier break Cephas� shinbone with a sharp-edged board and himself thrust his sword into Cephas� neck as he jokingly said that this was slaughter in the Jewish way, in which the blood must be let out before life has gone. A great deal of blood flowed out of the old man. Marcus and Linus promised to see to it that his body was buried in what is now an unused burial ground behind the amphitheater not far away. Linus wept, but Marcus had already wept his tears and was an even-tempered and reliable man. He retained his calm, but his eyes were looking into another world which I could not see. You must be wondering why I chose to go with Cephas rather than Paul. Paul was at least a Roman citizen and Cephas only an old Jewish fisherman. Perhaps my behavior shows that I do not always act in my own self-interest. Personally I liked Cephas better because he was a sincere and simple man, and in addition, Claudia would never have permitted me to abandon them on their last journey. I do anything for peace at home. Later I quarreled with Lucas when he demanded to see the Aramaic story which I had inherited from my father and which was written by a customs official. I did not give it to him. Lucas had had two years to talk to eyewitnesses while Paul was in prison in Caesarea in Proconsul Felix� time. I did not think I owed him anything. Lucas was not such a skilled physician either, although he had studied in Alexandria. I should never have let him treat my own stomach complaint. I suspect that he followed Paul so eagerly because of Paul�s faith-healing, either to learn this art himself or with humble insight into his own shortcomings as a physician. But he could write, though only in the dialect of the market, not in educated Greek. I have always liked Marcus very much, but Linus, who is younger, has become even dearer to me with the years. In spite of everything, I have been forced to put the Christians� internal