CHAPTER XL

XL

At the end of Sextilis, my father told me that you were staying outside the Pomerium,

making arrangements for your triumphus, and that rumours had it that you had the

intention of writing your will.

– Caesar seems to be in haste for it. I think he’s going too fast….

I suddenly thought the dark rings around his eyes had gone deeper. He did not add

anything else. It was quite obvious that he was sharing my fears. He did not even

suggest that I go beyond the Pomerium to visit you. I understood his silence. He had

the duty of taking your will to the Vestals so that they may keep it until the day of…

The celebration of your victory over the last Pompeian resistance was held a few days

after Kalendae Octobris . Perhaps due to the fact that I had somehow accepted my

 

failure and also because of what I had learnt about your poor health, I did not feel that

tearing unease which had taken hold of me that daybreak long ago, when your triumph

over Vercingetorix was being celebrated. Though the sun had just risen, the day was

so humid and hot that I could have grown sick, as usual. Sitting on the benches that

had been set for your relatives in the Forum, next to Rostra, I had the feeling that all

the atmosphere around was more funeral-like than according to what could expected of

a real triumphus, which should have been cheered by a frenzied crowd. Obviously, it

 

could not be such a brilliant parade, as there were no war booties to display since

sacking had been forbidden. You had not even taken the valuable treasure of the

temple of Melkart-Herakles. Maybe its sacred importance and all the memories it

brought into your mind had dissuaded you from doing that. The only thing Roman could

witness was the display of huge pictures, the first of which depicted your solitary attack

on Pompeian troops, just sheltered by a borrowed shield. The silence inspired by this

sight was immediately broken by a wave of loud murmuring, caused by the exhibition of

Gnaeus Pompeius’ head in the Forum of Hispalis. That murmuring increased as the

parade went on, showing the deaths of Labienus and so many other Romans, whose

friends and relatives were then watching what was meant to be the celebration of your

glory …and the presence that was coming nearer and nearer, all clad in purple and

crimson –starry mantle, gold-embroidered tunic –carried along on that golden chariot,

with Jupiter’s crown over that laurel-wreathed head… Some convulsing shiver made

me loose consciousness of my body solidity… Hadn’t I really seen you, all covered in

blood springing out of your face, chest, belly and legs? Could it have been that

someone–perhaps Atia –had held me tight so as to stop me from rushing ahead to hold

you in my arms? When I woke up, I saw myself lying in my cubiculum with Atia next to

my lectus. She told me you were in the public dinner that you had planned to have in

order to involve common Romans in your triumphus and to which I would be unable to

attend due to my frail health.

–Luckily, I managed to grab you before you might fall off the benches. Don’t worry,

nobody paid attention to it. Everybody had their eyes on the incident that happened in

front of the Tribunes’ place. It means that one of them refused to stand up as the

 

imperator was riding past. Consequently, Caesar angrily rebuked him. To speak the

truth, Calpurnia, your husband must be strong, very strong and also severe to Rome.

Unlike what everybody may believe, Republican resistance is still deeply rooted here

…. I hope you won’t mind my returning to the dinner, will you? If he doesn’t see you

around, he will be worried. Therefore, I will tell him there’s nothing to care about.

Yes, sure, there’s nothing to care about. No, I don’t think she…the cobra…might have

attended the banquet .How on earth could you have had the idea of planning such an

extravagance which had already been criticised during the first celebration of your

 

triumphi? .What could you expect to get from it? In spite of all those thoughts, I knew I

had to get ready to face your imminent arrival, as this time our reunion would not be

like so many others before. The threat of your…mental disturbance? obsession?... was

standing in front of me, as solid as your sudden appearance, preceded by the silence

of your cautious feet…. No, that shadow of blood, madness and dead-like paleness

was no more there… Only your sad, tender, almost ravishing smile and your intense

transparent look

–My….

I could not understand the rest of the sentence. Was your voice so whispering or

maybe blurred by some tears that slightly damped my neck? Was this really you, my

lord….? Perhaps was this a spectre that was somehow biding me your farewell since

you might feel powerless to do it by yourself? I even came to believe this during the

rest of the night, when you did no more than lying like that, your arms around me,

uselessly seeking for that force that could shelter you from that other which was

inexorably unbalancing your mind, shattering your health, determined to throw you into

the abyss…in exchange for you own divinity. Should this have happened long before, I

would have responded to your embrace, cradling you on my breasts to bring you some

comfort… But that night I felt blocked, clumsy, all disabled by that subtle misty power

coming from you and that I could feel impregnating my skin pores….what could this

panic which had got of me be but the same which I certainly knew well, despite what

anybody else could think, the same fear which had been haunting and disturbing your

mind? Why should I think that she might also feel the same thing as me, as soon as

you would find a chance of making his way beyond the Tiber once again? Even then, I

still hoped that her powerlessness would clear up your thoughts, encouraging you to  

restore that old bond to me, disabled after so many years of distance. Why could I still

feel so willing to dream….?

When I woke up, it was quite early in the morning. You were still asleep, almost

lifeless-looking. I would have stayed there forever, embracing you, listening to your

warm heartbeat through your back…Yes, I quite knew this might be the last time I

could have you like this, so private and vulnerable… I remained drowsily lying on that

wet back, slightly trembling, listening to the flock of birds which were waking up on the

 

cypresses of the peristylium…Again that silence. Perhaps the small vestals were

awaiting your visit, worried because you had not greeted them immediately after your
 

arrival. What would happen if …their Pontifex decided to settle down in Alexandria?

Would you delegate your office in anyone else? Would I be forced to share my life here
 

at Domus Publica with another family? Or would I simply be sent out of this place and

atmosphere which, after so many years, have become a part of my own nature, even
 

more than Calpurnius Piso’s domus? The cold trembling came back to my fibres,

causing me to fear it could be transmitted into your own flesh, which I felt slightly

arouse, almost imperceptibly… until your weight fell on my belly, panting, boiling,

invading me with your breath, which, in the midst of your sleepiness, might be

searching for another respiration, alien to mine, no doubt… That absent mouth strove

to possess my shoulders whereas, deep down inside my womb, a strange force that I

was trying to identify was desperately ascending, struggling to scare away that

hovering spectre-like mist which threatened to annihilate you. … No, this time it was

not that blind deliverance from the other nights. I somehow felt my body impregnated

with some kind of fear-drenched, dead-like viscosity… Had I given myself to a spectre’s

arms?

 Your body heavily fell on one side of the lectus, maybe disappointed for not having

been able to find that salvation you yearned for within my body…..