to repair it, it was subsiding with huge cracks and holes. The colonnade behind the stage was littered with column drums lying where they had been abandoned a year or more ago, and beyond it a giant crane rose up against the sky, its ropes slack, the circular cage of its treadmill, where slaves had once labored, now empty. And this same dismal scene, Pliny knew, was replicated in every city in the province. Huge sums had been raised to beautify the cities, to provide baths, aqueducts, gymnasia and every other amenity of civilized life, only to vanish—into whose pockets?—with the work still undone. And meanwhile anti-Roman sentiment and factional violence grew with every passing day.
It was for this that Pliny had been sent here. And today he would tell them plainly what he intended to do. He was by instinct a modest man but this morning he had proceded to the theater with all the majesty that a Roman governor could command. He rode in an open litter preceded by trumpeters and a dozen lictors, bearing the fasces on their shoulders and bawling at the crowd to make way. Behind him marched his senior staff, all in brilliant white togas, and following them a long tail of supernumeraries and assorted “friends.” Unseen in the crowd, soldiers in civilian dress stood ready to pounce on anyone with an angry face or a stone in his hand. Meanwhile, Balbus, not to be outshone, led his own procession with nearly equal pomp from his headquarters in the treasury building. Here, then, was the might of Rome assembled—palpable, undeniable, inescapable.
Diocles, who was a former archon of Nicomedia and a member of the city council, was introducing Pliny now, his honeyed voice full of words like concord, harmony, honor, friendship, order. His faction cheered him wildly, as they were paid to do, but from here and there in the audience came catcalls from other factions.
Then Pliny took the rostrum and waited for silence. When he spoke it was in the careful, measured tones of the professional lawyer. His oratorical training was impeccable but he wasn’t the showman that Diocles was. His speech, carefully written and memorized, was short and to the point. Rome depended on the wealthy men in every city to make the wheels of empire turn. But if they abused their position, squandered their money, punishment would be swift. He was embarking at once on a tour of every city in the province where he would examine accounts and hold hearings. He asked for their loyalty and cooperation.
The silence, when he sat down, was deafening. Which was about what he had expected.
Diocles swept toward him, followed by his retinue: all of them prosperous, well-fed, sleek; men whom Pliny must win over if he was to accomplish anything here.
“Splendid words, Governor, inspiring! Of course, my friends and I are all behind you.” He indicated them with a jutting chin. The friends nodded and made noises of agreement. “What a relief to have things put to rights at last.” You arrogant barbarian. You spawn of a city that was founded by wild men and robbers. You pillager of all the world, you enemy of civilization. What mischief will you make among us now? “I look forward to entertaining you at my estate one day soon for an exchange of views. Leaving at once, are you? For Prusa? Are things there as bad as that? Yes, I quite understand. Like Atlas, you must shoulder your burden, like Hercules, you have your labors, like Theseus—well, you know what I mean. Another time, then. In the meantime what can I do to make your stay pleasanter? Nothing? Oh, surely. What? A Greek tutor for your wife? Admirable!” Another Roman whore, who prances around the city unveiled and reclines at table with men, actually talks to them like an equal! Oh, certainly, she wants to improve her Greek the better to abuse us in our own tongue. “Yes, I think I know just the man.”
Balbus had stood by silently during this exchange. Now he struck in. “Diocles, you should know that the governor comes with a special mandate from our emperor, overriding even my authority in fiscal matters.” The tone was surly, the Greek rough and heavily accented. “We must all look sharp, mustn’t we?”
“Oh, indeed so, Procurator,” Diocles smiled. “But honest men have nothing to fear.”
The two men held each other’s gaze for a brief moment.
***
“You know, I envy the Greeklings in a way.” Pliny said to