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for his speeches and even a volume of his poetry she claimed to have read. It occurred to me that she was drunk. Caesar regarded her with amusement.
    'Mama wants to see you,' he said, at which she pouted like a girl. 'Well, go on,' he commanded, 'don't make a sour face. You know what she's like,' and he gave her a pat on her rear to send her on her way.
    'So many women, Caesar,' observed Cicero drily. 'Where will they emerge from next?'
    Caesar laughed. 'I fear you'll take away a bad impression of me.'
    'My impression is quite unchanged, I assure you.'
    'So, then: do we have a bargain?'
    'It depends on what your bill contains. All we have so far are election slogans. “Land for the landless.” “Food for the hungry.” I'll need a few more details than that. And also perhaps some concessions.' But Caesar did not respond. His expression was blank. After a while the silence became embarrassing, and it was Cicero who ended it by grunting and turning aside. 'Well, it's getting dark,' he said to me. 'We should go.'
    'So soon? You'll take no refreshment? Then let me show you out.' Caesar was entirely affable: his manners were always impeccable, even when he was condemning a man to death. 'Think of it,' he continued, as he led us down the shabby passage. 'If you join us, how easy your term of office will be. This time next year your consulship will be over. You'll leave Rome. Live in a governor's palace. Make enough money in Macedonia to set you up for life. Come home. Buy a house on the Bay of Naples. Study philosophy. Write your memoirs. Whereas—'
    The doorkeeper stepped forward to help Cicero on with his cloak, but Cicero waved him away and turned on Caesar. 'Whereas? Whereas what? If I don't join you? What then?'
    Caesar put on an expression of pained surprise. 'None of this is aimed at you personally. I hope you understand that. We mean you no harm. In fact I want you to know that if ever you find yourself in personal danger, you can always rely on my protection.'
    '
I
can always rely on
your
protection?' Seldom did I see Cicero at a loss for words. But on that freezing day, in that cramped and faded house, in that scruffy neighbourhood, I watched him struggle to find the language that would adequately convey his feelings. In the end he couldn't manage it. Draping his cloak over his shoulders, he stepped out into the snow, and under the sullengaze of the band of ruffians still lingering in the street, he bade Caesar a curt farewell.
    '
I
can always rely on
his
protection?' repeated Cicero as we trudged back up the hill. 'Who is he to talk to me in such a way?'
    'He's very confident,' I ventured.
    'Confident? He treats me as if I were his client!'
    The day was ending, and with it the year, fading swiftly in that way of winter afternoons. In the windows of the tenements lamps were being lit. People were shouting to one another above our heads. There was a lot of smoke from the fires, and I could smell food cooking. At the street corners the pious had put out little dishes of honey cakes as new-year offerings to the neighbourhood gods – for we worshipped the spirits of the crossroads in those days rather than the great god Augustus – and the hungry birds were pecking at them, rising and fluttering and settling again as we hurried past.
    'Do you want me to send a message to Catulus and the others?' I asked.
    'And tell them what? That Caesar has undertaken to spare Rabirius if I betray them behind their backs, and that I'm going away to consider his proposal?' He was striding ahead, his irritation lending strength to his legs. I was sweating to keep up. 'I noticed you weren't making a note of what he said.'
    'It didn't seem appropriate.'
    'You must always make a note. From now on, everything is to be written down.'
    'Yes, Senator.'
    'We're heading into dangerous waters, Tiro. Every reef and current must be charted.'
    'Yes, Senator.'
    'Can you remember the conversation?'
    'I think so. Most of it.'
    'Good. Write it all down as