authority. Unhappily his capacity for a plain and vigorous policy seems to have been exhausted by this single good action. He fell back on his pitiful habit of silence and reserve, never perceiving that the statesman who tries to refrain from committing himself on the main political issues of the time must of necessity become impotent and ridiculous. The natural and logical sequence to the dispersion of Pompey's army was a frank union with the constitutionalists; and this implied a clear and unmistakable approval of the action of the government in the matter of Catiline. But for this Cicero looked in vain.
During the month of December, 62 B.C., another question had arisen in Rome, petty enough in itself but destined to have serious consequences. A young patrician named Publius Clodius was caught, disguised as a woman, invading the mysteries of the "Good Goddess," whose privacy was polluted by the presence of any male at her worship. The sacrifices were performed in the house of Cæsar, who was praetor for the year,[1] and in pursuit of an intrigue with Cæsar's wife Clodius thrust himself into the company of Vestals and matrons. Cæsar divorced his wife, and declined to stir further in the business.[2]
- ↑ See above p. 38.
- ↑ Cicero upbraids him for "lack of gall" in not resenting the affront which Clodius had put upon him (De Har. Resp., 18, 38). But Cæsar had just been engaged in an intrigue of his own which caused Pompey to divorce his wife Mucia; he doubtless felt that his appearance in the character of the injured husband would be somewhat ridiculous. When we recollect that Pompey consoled himself for the loss of Mucia by taking Cæsar's own daughter to fill her place, it must be owned that Roman husbands accepted these mishaps rather calmly.
