I, Claudius - Robert Graves [54]
This made Livy really furious. He said, "Pollio, this talk is idle. Young Claudius here has always been considered dull-witted by his family and friends but I didn't agree with the general verdict until to-day. You're welcome to your disciple. And Sulpicius can perfect his dullness: there's no better teacher of dullness in Rome." Then he gave us his Parthian shot: Et apud Apollinem istum Pollionis Pollinctorem diutissime polleat. Which means, though the pun is lost in Greek: "And may he flourish long at the shrine of that Undertaker Apollo of Pollio's!" Then off he went, snorting.
Pollio shouted cheerfully after him: ''Quod certe pollicitu Pollio. Pollucibiliter pollebit puer.'' ["Pollio promises you he will; the boy will flourish mightily."]
When we two were alone, Sulpicius having gone off to find a book, Pollio began questioning me.
"Who are you, boy? Claudius is your name, isn't it? You obviously come of good family, but I don’t know you."
"I am Tiberius Claudius Drusus Nero Germanicus."
"My God! But Livy's right. You're supposed to be a half-wit."
"Yes. My family is ashamed of me because I stammer, and I'm lame and usually ill, so I go about very little in society."
"But dull-witted? You're one of the brightest young fellows I have met for years."
"You are very kind, sir."
"Not at all. By God, that was a nasty hit at old Livy about Lars Porsena. Livy has no conscience, that's the truth. I'm always catching him out. I asked him once if he always had the same trouble as I had in finding the brass tablets he wanted among the litter of the Public Record Office. He said, 'Oh, no trouble at all.' And it turned out that he has never once been there to confirm a single fact!
Tell me, why were you reading my history?"
"I was reading your account of the siege of Perusia. My grandfather, Livia's first husband you know, was there. I'm interested in that period and I'm getting together materials for a life of my father. My tutor Athenodorus referred me to your book: he said it was honest. My former tutor, Marcus Porcius Cato, had once told me that it was a tissue of lies, so I was the more ready to believe Athenodorus."
"Yes, Cato wouldn't like the book. The Catos fought on the wrong side. I helped to drive his grandfather out of Sicily. But I think you are the first youthful historian I have ever met. History is an old man's game. When are you going to win battles like your father and grandfather?"
"Perhaps in my old age."
He laughed. "I don't see why a historian who has made a life-study of military tactics shouldn't be invincible as a commander, given good troops and courage—"
"And good staff-officers," I put in, remembering Cleon.
"And good staff-officers, certainly—though he's never actually handled a sword or shield in his life."
I was bold enough to ask Pollio why he was often called "The Last of the Romans". He looked pleased at the question and replied: "Augustus gave me the name. It was when he invited me to join him in his war against your grandfather Antony. I asked him what sort of a man he took me for: Antony had been one of my best friends.
'Asinius Pollio,' he said, 'I believe that you're the last of the Romans. The title is wasted on that assassin, Cassius.'
'And if I'm the last of the Romans,' I answered, 'whose fault is that? And whose fault will it be when you've destroyed Antony, that nobody but myself will ever dare hold his head up in your presence or speak out of turn?'
'Not mine, Asinius,' he said apologetically, 'it is Antony who has declared war, not I. And as soon as Antony is beaten I shall of course restore Republican government.'
'If the Lady Livia does not interpose her veto,' I said."
The old man then took me by the shoulders. "By the way, I'll tell you something, Claudius. I'm a very old man and though I look brisk enough I have reached the end. In three days I shall be dead; and I know it. Just before one dies there comes a strange lucidity. One speaks prophetically. Now listen! Do you want to live a long busy life, with honour at the end of it?"