The Robe Page #2

when I'm away with Senator Gallio.

In that case, the slave attending

the front door is required to light the lamps.

To be a slave in this household

is an honour.

To be a slave anywhere is to be a dog.

The door. Open it. Remember to bow.

The door. Run, you fool.

- Good evening, Marcipor.

- Good evening, sir.

It's you.

No household duties.

He'll be my personal attendant.

You could have run away. Why didn't you?

I owe you a debt, sir. I pay my debts.

- Not a slave's reason. More like a Roman's.

- A Greek's.

Yes, I know. In the great days of Greece,

we Romans were no more than barbarians.

Have Marcipor show you where I keep

my clothes. I'll change before dinner.

Good evening, Mother. Lucia.

Sorry, Mother, I was outbid for those twins.

- We know, Marcellus.

- Diana was here.

Diana? You should have

kept her till I got home.

Marcellus. She told us that

you and Caligula had a quarrel...

- Don't worry about that.

- Caligula's very angry.

- She takes him too seriously.

- She has to.

- She's going to marry him.

- Did she tell you that?

Mother, look. I think

he's in love with her himself.

Love's like wine. A sip hurts nobody, but

to empty the bottle is to invite a headache.

Well, you won't even get a taste.

She thinks you're very funny.

- She does?

- She thought you wanted the twins.

- Lucia.

- That's what she said, Mother.

Marcellus. Are you deliberately trying

to cut the ground from under my feet,

orjust too much of a fool

to understand what you've done?

You mean my difference

of opinion with Caligula?

I lead the senators who oppose him, and my

son makes fun of him at private banquets,

and now humiliates him in public.

I'm fighting for the republic

against the tyranny of the emperors.

- I know that.

- You know nothing.

Nothing but dice and women.

And now, by your behaviour

to Caligula, by these petty slights,

you cripple me, make my fight

look like a personal quarrel.

- Yes?

- Sir, Tribune Quintus is at the door.

- For me?

- For your son.

- I'm not at home.

- Yes, sir.

Your leave. Give this to Tribune Gallio

when he does come home.

Well, aren't you going to read it?

After dinner.

Good eating to you.

Ladies. Senator Gallio.

Quintus is a very important man.

He was already my enemy.

- May we know?

- It's from Caligula.

"The courage of a military tribune must not

be squandered in baths and banquet halls. "

"You are ordered

to the garrison at Jerusalem. "

- Jerusalem.

- "You sail tonight on the Palestine galley. "

That's all. Not even

an expression of his tender regard.

Cornelia, he will need his things.

Help your mother, Lucia.

Where's Jerusalem?

Palestine.

The worst pest-hole in the empire.

A stiff-necked, riotous people

always on the verge of rebellion.

Our legions there are the scum of the army,

the officers little better than the men.

Disease takes them off like flies.

Some have been assassinated,

sometimes by their own men.

Others have spared the assassins the trouble.

What Caligula hopes he has given you

is your death sentence.

- "We who are about to die"?

- Marcellus.

Marcellus, you are

the only son I'll ever have.

You know what my ambitions

have been for you.

I know how I've disappointed you.

Try to endure it, Marcellus.

Grow hard.

Watch the hand of the man

who walks behind you.

Drink in private and sleep

with your sword at your side.

Take nothing on faith.

Bind yourself to no man.

Above all, be a Roman, my son,

and be a man of honour.

Perhaps there'll be amusement

in being a man of honour.

- Ready, sir?

- Yes, that's the last of my gear.

Ready at the oars.

Man the lines.

Careful with that, it's the wine.

Yes, sir.

There's no need to be so formal, Demetrius.

We'll both need friends where we're going.

Friends can't be bought, sir,

even for 3,000 pieces of gold.

Is there anything else you want, sir?

No.

The lady Diana begs a word with you, sir,

before you leave.

We don't want to lose this tide, sir.

Diana.

I came to tell you that I'm going back to Capri

to ask the emperor to intercede for you.

Why?

I think Caligula treated you unjustly.

Why, Diana?

It was partly my fault what happened.

The real reason.

Because I've found you again,

and I don't want to lose you.

Perhaps you don't believe that

a girl of 11 could fall in love

and stay in love all these years.

Tribune.

Don't cry, my love.

Lucia thought I was in love.

I laughed at her,

but women are wise in these matters.

Tribune. We'll miss the tide.

Make Tiberius promise

not to give you to Caligula

until I come back.

Cast off.

- Pull up.

- Lines are up.

Start the oars.

Jerusalem's no pleasure resort at its best.

This is the worst,

the feast they call the Passover.

This is when their soothsayers

tell them the Messiah will come.

- Messiah? What's that?

- King. Saviour. Redeemer.

Son of their god - and general troublemaker.

- He's coming here?

- No one knows.

No one knows if he even exists.

He is, but he isn't.

He hasn't come yet, but he's coming.

Every year the same.

You'll find out, Tribune,

if you live long enough.

Thanks for the kind wish, Centurion.

The Messiah.

There he is.

What stirred them up?

Perhaps he's coming after all, the Messiah.

Something's happening, that's certain.

Look. There. Those people carrying palms.

The man riding a white donkey. See him?

Flavius, clear us a path through these cattle.

Demetrius, come along.

Your master will have you flogged.

- Did you see him?

- Who?

- The man who just rode past.

- I was over there.

He stopped here and looked at me.

He looked into my eyes.

- What did he want?

- I don't know.

I thought he was going to speak

but he didn't.

Only his eyes spoke.

Come on, Demetrius.

I think he wants me to follow him.

- Who is he? A general?

- No.

- A king?

- No, he's not a king.

He's...

I don't know.

This is for the tribune. It's very important.

Excuse me. Let me pass, please.

Here you are, Tribune, just as I promised you.

The finest Syrian wine

from the vintage you like the best.

And now, Tribune, there's

a little matter of payment.

One, two, three, four

skins of wine you owe me for.

Four skins of wine for four days, remember?

Who are you?

Who am I?

The tribune has a sense of humour.

- He asks me who I am.

- Ever seen this man before?

- No, never.

- Never, sire.

Gentlemen, please. Please. I am Caleb,

Caleb the wine merchant. Remember?

I'm an honest man.

The tribune and I have an agreement.

A skin of wine every day.

Don't you remember?

Please, gentlemen.

I want my money. I'm a poor man.

You're not poor. You're as rich as Midas.

And you're not honest. You're a thief.

- Then you do recognise me.

- As for being a wine merchant...

The stuff you sell isn't fit for a jackass.

Thank you.

Oh, dear.

Tribune, what have you done?

Enjoying yourself?

Whoever conquered this land

should have been strung up.

- Demetrius, pour us some of this poison.

- The curse of empire.

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