The Roman

Book X

As was usual on Idus day, except in the summer months, the Senate had assembled at dawn for their meeting in the Curia, which to many people’s annoyance had survived the great fire almost unscathed.

Nero slept so late that he was not in time to take part in the opening ceremonies. But then he arrived, bursting with energy, greeting both the Consuls with a kiss and verbosely apologizing for his late arrival, which was due to vital matters of State.

“But,” he said jokingly, “I am prepared to submit myself to whatever punishment the Senate decides on for my neglect, although I think the fathers will treat me kindly when they have heard what I have to tell them.”

The senators suppressed their yawns and settled themselves more comfortably on their ivory stools, prepared for an hour’s exhibition of eloquence along Seneca’s best lines. But Nero contented himself with a few necessary words on the moral way of life ordained by the gods and the heritage of our forefathers and then came straight to the point.

The devastating fire during the summer, the greatest misfortune ever to have befallen Rome except the ravages of the Gauls, was no punishment meted out by the gods for certain politically necessary events in Rome, as some malevolent persons obstinately asserted, but a deliberate outrage, the most terrible crime ever perpetrated against mankind and the State. The perpetrators of this crime were the so-called Christians, whose unpleasant superstition had silently spread to an unimaginable degree among the criminal elements of Rome and the lowest and most ignorant of the people. Most of the Christians were of foreign origin and could not even speak Latin; immigrant rabble of the kind that was constantly streaming into the city, rootless and with shameless customs, of which the fathers were no doubt aware.

The conspiracy was all the more dangerous since outwardly these contemptible Christians tried to behave irreproachably, enticing the poor with free meals and alms in order to reveal their fearful hatred of mankind in all its hideousness during their mysteries, which were carefully kept secret. At these they ate human flesh and drank human blood. They also practiced witchcraft, apparently cursing the sick and thus ensnaring them in their sorcery. Some of the bewitched had given up all their possessions to aid their criminal purposes.

Nero paused to allow the most enthusiastic senators to exclaim in horror and loathing, as was demantled by his rhetoric. Then he continued.

For moral reasons, he did not wish to, nor could he even, publicly reveal all the horrors that occurred at the Christian mysteries. But the essence was that these Christians, depending on their own eloquence, had set fire to Rome and on orders from their leaders, had then assembled on the hills, jubilantly, to await the coming of a king who would crush Rome and found a new kingdom and condemn all those who thought differendy to the cruelest punishments.

Because of this plan, the Christians had evaded fulfilling their duties as citizens in the service of the State, for however shameful or unbelievable it might sound, a number of citizens, in their foolishness and in the hope of future reward, had joined the conspiracy. Clear signs of the Christians’ hatred of all that others hold sacred were that they did not make offerings to the Roman gods, they looked on the fine arts as noxious and they refused to go to the theater.

The conspiracy had, however, been easily suppressed since these cowardly Christians enthusiastically denounced each other as soon as they were caught. Once he, Nero, had heard of the matter he had immediately taken measures to protect the State and punish the fire-raisers of Rome. He had had excellent support from the Praetorian Prefect, Tigellinus, who had earned full recognition from the Senate.

To give the city fathers time to cogitate on the matter, Nero now went on to give a brief account of the origins of the Christian superstition. It had originally been founded in Galilee by a Jewish troublemaker called Christ. He had been condemned to death as a State criminal by Procurator Pontius Pilate during the reign of Emperor Tiberius, and the resultant disturbances had then been temporarily suppressed. But by spreading the rumor that this criminal had risen from the dead, his disciples revived the superstition in Judaea, from whence it had spread farther and farther like a creeping plague.

The Jews disowned the Christian superstition, said Nero, and they could not be accused of this conspiracy, as certain people had done in their prejudiced hatred of the Jews. On the contrary, the Jews lived under the protection of their special rights and to a great extent governed by their own wise council as useful inhabitants of Rome.

This statement was not met with much response from the Senate. The Senate had never approved of the exceptional rights which many Emperors had granted the Jews in Rome and often reconfirmed. Why should we tolerate a State within the State?

“Nero is often said to be too humane in his punishment of criminals,” Nero continued emphatically. “It is said that he is allowing the strict customs of our forefathers to be forgotten and that he tempts youth into an effeminate life instead of cultivating military virtues. The moment has now come to show that Nero is not afraid to see blood, as has been whispered by certain soured Stoics.

“An unprecedented crime demands an unprecedented punishment. Nero has called on his artistic imagination to assist in offering the Senate and the people of Rome a spectacle such as he hopes will never be forgotten in the annals of Rome. Respected fathers, with your own eyes you will see in my circus how Nero punishes the Christians, the enemies of mankind.”

After having spoken about himself formally in the third person, he then turned to the first person and jestingly suggested, with humble respect, that all other matters be postponed until the next meeting of the Senate, and that the city fathers could now go to the circus, presuming, of course, that the Consuls had no objections.

The Consuls thanked Nero on behalf of their offices for his foresight and swift action in preserving the fatherland from the threat of danger, and expressed their pleasure that he had found the true instigators of the fire of Rome. This was useful to the State in that it once and for all forestalled the many foolish rumors that were circulating. The Consuls suggested on their part that a summary of Nero’s speech should be published in the State notices and approved the suggestion to close the meeting. In accordance with their duty, they asked whether any of the venerable fathers might possibly wish to say anything, although they thought everything was quite clear.

Senator Paetus Thrasea, whose vanity had been pricked by Nero’s thrust at sour Stoics; asked for the floor and suggested mockingly that the Senate should at the same time decide on the necessary thanksgiving offerings to the gods in connection with the averting of this great danger.

Thanksgiving offerings had already been carried out for a number of other infamous deeds. Why should the Christians be less of a reason? Nero seemed to fear witchcraft as much as antagonism to shows. Nero pretended not to hear, but just stamped his foot to hurry the whole matter along, and the Senate hastily voted for this customary thanksgiving to Jupiter Custos and the other gods. The Consuls asked impatiently if anyone else wished to speak.

Then, quite against his usual practice, my father, Marcus Mezentius Manilianus, rose to his feet so that his voice should be heard better, and stammeringly asked for the right to speak. Several senators sitting near him pulled at his toga and whispered to him to keep quiet, for it appeared to them that he was drunk. But my father gathered his toga around his arms and began to speak, his bald head trembling with rage.

“Consuls, fathers, you Nero, the leader of your equals,” he said. “You all know that I have seldom opened my mouth at the sessions of the Senate. I cannot boast of any great wisdom, although I have for seventeen years given my best for the common good in the committee on Eastern affairs. I have seen and heard much that has been infamous and unholy in this memorable Curia, but my old eyes have never witnessed anything so shameful as that which I have seen this morning. Have we sunk so low that the Senate of Rome sits in silence and agrees to the execution of what is, as far as I know, thousands of men and women, among them hundreds of citizens and even a few knights, in the cruelest possible way, on evidence not proven, without legal trial, as if it were all a simple routine matter?”

Cries of disapproval were heard, and Tigellinus was permitted to give an explanation.

“There is not a single knight among them,” he said. “Or if there is, then he has kept his rank secret in shame for his crime.”

“Do I understand from what you say,” asked Nero with ill-concealed impatience, “that you doubt my honor and sense of justice, Marcus Manilianus?”

“I’ve had enough,” my father went on, “of swallowing the waters of the Roman sewers so that they choke me. But now I shall bear witness that I myself was in Jerusalem and Galilee in the days of Pontius Pilate and saw with my own eyes Jesus of Nazareth being crucified, he who is not only called Christ, but who really is Christ and the Son of God, for I also saw with my own eyes that his tomb was empty and that he had risen from the dead on the third day, regardless of all the lies of the Jews.”

Many cried out that my father had gone mad, but the most inquisitive demantled that he should go on. In fact most of the senators bore a grudge against Nero and against the Imperial powers in general. Always remember that, Julius, my son.

So my father was allowed to continue.

“In silence,” he said, “and in all my human weakness, I acknowledged him as Christ long ago, although in my own life I have not been able to keep his message. But I think he will forgive me my sins and perhaps allow me a small place in his kingdom, whatever that kingdom looks like, and on that I am not yet clear. I think it is a kingdom of mercy, of peace and of clarity, here or there, or somewhere else. But this kingdom has no political significance. So the Christians have no political aims either, other than that they think that the only true freedom for a human being lies in Christ and by following his way. The ways can be many and I shall not become involved in their differences, but I believe that they all lead to his kingdom in the end. Jesus Christ, the Son of God, have mercy on my sinful soul.”

The Consuls interrupted him now, for he was wandering off the point and beginning to philosophize.

“I do not wish to try your patience with nonsense,” said Nero in his turn. “Marcus Manilianus has said what he has to say. On my part, I have always considered that my father, the god Claudius, was mad when he had his wife Messalina and so many noblemen executed that he had to fill the Senate with so many useless members. Marcus Manilianus’ own words prove that he is not worthy of his purple braid nor his red boots. Obviously his mind is confused and why this is so, I cannot guess. I suggest that in consideration for his bald head, we simply separate him from our circle and send him to some distant resort where his mental health will be restored. On this matter, we are presumably unanimous and need not vote.”

But several senators wished to annoy Nero, as long as someone else took the consequences. So they called on Marcus to continue, if he still had anything to say. Paetus Thrasea took the floor first.

“Naturally,” he said with feigned innocence, “we are all agreed that Marcus Mezentius is out of his mind. But divine madness sometimes makes people into seers. Perhaps he has this gift thanks to his Etruscan forefathers. If he does not believe that the Christians set fire to Rome, however probable this may seem from what we have heard, then perhaps he will tell us who the real instigators were?”

“Mock as you please, Paetus Thrasea,” said my father angrily, “but your end is also near. One does not need the gifts of a seer to see that I accuse no one of the fire of Rome, not even Nero, however much many of you would like to hear such an accusation made publicly and not merely in whispers. But I do not know Nero. I simply believe and assure you all that the Christians are innocent of the fire of Rome. I know them.”

Nero shook his head sadly and raised one hand.

“I made it quite clear that I do not accuse all the Christians in Rome of the fire,” he said. “I have condemned them as public enemies on sufficient grounds. If Marcus Manilianus wishes to claim that he himself is a public enemy, then the matter becomes serious and can no longer be defended on the grounds of mental derangement.”

But Nero was profoundly mistaken if he thought he could frighten my father into silence. My father was a stubborn man in spite of his good nature and quietness.

“One night,” he went on, “by the lake in Galilee, I met a fisherman who had been scourged. I have reason to believe that he was the risen Jesus of Nazareth. He promised me that I should die for the glorification of his name. I did not understand him then, but thought he was prophesying something evil. Now I understand and I thank him for his good prophecy. To the glory of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, I wish to state that I am a Christian and share in their baptism, their spirit and their holy meals. I shall be subjected to the same punishment as they. And further, I wish to tell you, respected fathers, in case you do not yet know it, that Nero himself is the greatest enemy of mankind. You too are enemies of mankind as long as you endure his insane tyranny.”

Nero whispered to the Consuls, who immediately declared the meeting secret, so that Rome should not be subjected to the shame of a member of the Senate being exposed by his hatred of mankind as a spokesman for a frightening superstition. My father had his own way. Considering a vote unnecessary, the Consul declared that the Senate had decided to strip Marcus Mezentius Manilianus of his broad purple band and his red laced boots.

In front of the assembled Senate, two senators appointed by the Consuls removed toga and tunic from my father, his red boots were drawn from his feet and his ivory stool was smashed to pieces. After this had taken place in complete silence, suddenly Senator Pudens Pub-licola rose to his feet and in a trembling voice announced that he too was a Christian.

But his elderly friends grabbed him and forcibly pulled him down into his place, covering his mouth with their hands as they shouted and laughed together to drown his words. Nero said that enough disgrace had already fallen on the Senate, that the meeting was now closed, and no notice need be taken of an old man’s gabbling. Pudens was a Valerian and a Publicolian. My father was only an insignificant Manilianus by adoption.

Tigellinus now called in the centurion who was on guard in the Curia arcade, told him to take ten Praetorians and remove my father to the nearest place of execution outside the city walls, avoiding attracting attention at all costs.

To be just, he should have been taken to the circus to be executed in the same way as the other Christians, but to avoid scandal, it was better to have him taken outside the city walls in secret. There he would be decapitated with a sword.

Naturally the centurion and his men were furious, for they were afraid they would be too late for the show in the circus. As my father was now quite naked, they snatched a cape from a slave who had been standing staring at the senators leaving the Curia, and flung it over him. The slave began running after my father, whimpering and trying to retrieve his only piece of clothing.

The wives of the senators were sitting waiting in their husbands’ sedans. Because of the long journey they had to make, the idea was that the procession, with senators and matrons separated, would form just outside the circus, to which the image of the gods of Rome had already been borne on their cushions. Tullia became impatient when nothing was heard of my father and stepped out of her sedan to go and find him. She had thought that he had behaved oddly in other ways the night before.

When Tullia asked after her husband, not one of the senators dared answer her, for that part of the meeting had been declared secret and they had sworn an oath on it. The confusion was increased when Pudens loudly demantled to be taken home since he did not wish to witness the infamous circus show.

Several senators who were secretly in sympathy with the Christians and hated Nero and respected my father’s manly behavior, although they thought him a little mad, were encouraged to follow Pudens’ example and stay away from the procession.

As Tullia scuttled back and forth outside the Curia like an agitated hen, loudly complaining about my father’s absentmindedness and dilatoriness, she caught sight of a plaintive slave and an old man with a slave cape over his shoulders being led away by some Praetorians. When she got nearer, she recognized my father and, utterly dumbfounded, stopped with her arms outstretched, barring their way.

“What on earth are you up to again, Marcus?” she asked. “Whatever is all this about? I’m not forcing you to go to the circus if you find it so distasteful. There are others here who are not going. Come, let’s go home quietly if you like. I won’t even quarrel with you.”

The centurion, in his haste, struck her with his stave and told her to be off. At first Tullia could not believe her ears, but then she was so angry she rushed at him in order to scratch the eyes out of his stupid head, at the same time crying out that he would immediately be clapped in irons for daring to touch the wife of a senator.

And so the scandal became public. Several women got out of their sedans, ignoring their husbands’ protests, and hurried to Tullia’s assistance. When this well-dressed group of women surrounded the Praetorians, all loudly asking what had happened and what it was all about, my father was troubled by the attention they were attracting and turned to speak to Tullia.

“I am no longer a senator,” he said. “I am going with the centurion of my own free will. Remember your rank and don’t shriek like a fishwife. As far as I am concerned, you can go alone to the circus. I don’t think there’s anything to stop you.”

“Hercules save me,” said Tullia, bursting into tears, “no one has ever called me a fishwife before. If you’re so offended by what I said about your Christians last night, then you might have said so straight out instead of sulking all evening. There’s nothing worse than a man who won’t speak out, but just remains as dumb as an ox for days and days.”

Several senators’ wives laughingly agreed in an attempt to smooth things over.

“That’s right, Manilianus,” they said. “You needn’t throw away your ivory stool just because of a little squabble. Stop this foolishness now and forgive Tullia if she’s hurt you in some way. You are man and wife, after all, and you’ve grown gray respectably together over the years.”

Tullia was deeply offended and snatched her festive veil from her head.

“Look for yourselves, you old gossips,” she cried, “and see if I’ve got as much as one single gray hair in my head. And it’s not dyed either, although I do use Arabian rinses, of course, to bring out the natural color of my hair. All that nonsense about dyeing it is just envy and slander.”

“This is a solemn moment in my life,” my father said to the centurion, “perhaps the most solemn ever. I cannot endure this female chatter a moment longer. Take me away from this dreadful noise as you have been ordered to.”

But the women were still all around them and the centurion did not dare order his men to make a way for them by force for he had already been reprimantled for simply touching Tullia. Besides, he was not quite sure what was happening.

When Tigellinus noticed the crowd gathering and the noise increasing, he pushed his way through to my father, his face gray with anger, and he struck Tullia in the chest with his fist.

“Get to Orcus, you damned bitch,” he said. “You’re no senator’s wife any longer and you’re not protected by rank. If you don’t keep your mouth shut at once, I’ll have you arrested for disturbing the peace and insulting the Senate.”

Tullia turned deathly pale when she saw that he was serious, but her sudden fear did not affect her pride.

“Servant of the devil,” she swore, in her haste remembering only the ways of speech of my father’s friends. “Stick to haggling over horses and fornicating with pretty boys. You’re overstepping your authority when you strike a Roman woman in front of the Curia. Only the City Prefect has the right to arrest me. Your own crude behavior will arouse more anger than my polite request to know what is going on and where my husband is going with his guard of honor. I’ll appeal to the Emperor.”

Nero had already reprimantled Tigellinus for mismanaging the arrest of the Christians and Tigellinus was annoyed about this. So he pointed to the Curia.

“Nero is still there,” he sneered. “Hurry up and appeal to him. He knows what’s going on.”

“Don’t throw your life away just for my sake, my dear Tullia,” my father warned her. “And don’t spoil the last moments of my life. Forgive me if I have hurt you, and forgive me for not being the husband you wished for. You have always been a good wife to me, although we’ve disagreed on so many things.”

Tullia was so happy that she completely forgot Tigellinus and flung her arms around my father.

“Did you really say ‘my dear Tullia’?” she cried. “Wait just a moment and I’ll soon be back.”

Smiling tearfully, she went across to Nero, who was looking discomfited, and greeted him respectfully.

“Be so gracious as to explain to me,” she said, “what kind of unfortunate misunderstanding this is. Everything can be remedied with good will on both sides.”

“Your husband has deeply offended me,” said Nero, “but that I can, of course, forgive him. Unfortunately he has also publicly declared in front of the Senate that he is a Christian. The Senate has removed from him his rank and office and condemned him to be executed by the sword as a public enemy. Be so good as to keep silent, for we wish to avoid public scandal. I have nothing against you. You may retain your property, but your husband’s property must be confiscated by the State because of his crime.”

Tullia refused to believe her ears.

“Well, these are fine times!” she cried. “Is there no other charge against my husband except that in his softheadedness he’s gone and become a Christian?”

“It is the same punishment for all Christians, because of their ill-deeds,” Nero said impatiently. “Go away now, and don’t bother me any more, for you can see I am in a hurry. My duty to the State demands that I lead the procession to the circus in my capacity as first citizen.”

Then Tullia tossed her head proudly, without a thought for the slack skin around her chin.

“I have a very varied life behind me,” she cried, “and I have not always behaved as well as one might expect a woman of my position to do. But I am a Roman woman and I shall go with my husband, wherever he goes. Where Gaius is, there is also Gaia. I, too, am a Christian and now acknowledge it publicly.”

This was not true. On the contrary, she had constantly poisoned my father’s life with her perpetual nagging and her contempt for his Christian friends. But now she turned to face-the inquisitive crowd.

“Hear me,” she cried out aloud, “you, the Senate and the people of Rome. I, Tullia Manilia, formerly Valeria, formerly Sulia, am a Christian. Long live Christ of Nazareth and his kingdom.”

To make doubly sure, she then cried “Hallelujah,” for she had heard the Jews repeat that word at their meetings at my father’s house during their arguments with other Christians about the different ways.

Fortunately her voice did not carry very far and Tigellinus covered her mouth with his hand. When the senators’ wives noticed how angry Nero had become, they hurriedly went back to their sedans, simmering with curiosity, to extract the truth of what had happened in the Senate from their husbands at the first opportunity. Nero only just managed to maintain his dignity.

“You shall have your own way then, insane woman,” he said, “as long as you keep your mouth shut. It would be just if I sent you to the circus to be punished with the others, but you are much too ugly and wrinkled to act as Dirce. So, like your husband, you may feel the sword, but for that you have the esteem of your forefathers to thank, not me.”

Tullia had made the scandal so public that with the best will in the world, Nero would not have dared send a dismissed senator’s spouse to the wild animals in front of the people. As the Praetorians led Tullia back through the crowd to my father, Nero vented his rage on Tigellinus and ordered him to have my father’s household arrested and to have every one of them who admitted to being a Christian taken straight to the circus. At the same time the magistrates’ men were to seal the house and confiscate all papers connected with my father’s and Tullia’s fortunes.

“And don’t you touch it,” Nero said warningly. “I consider myself to be their heir, as you force me into police duties by neglecting yours.”

The only thing that consoled him in his rage was the thought of my father’s and Tullia’s huge wealth.

Some anxious Christians still stood outside the Curia, hoping to the last that the authority of the Senate would save the condemned Christians from the horror of the circus. Among them was a youth who wore a narrow red band and who had not hurried to the circus to ensure himself a place among the always overcrowded seats of the knights.

When the Praetorians, with the centurion in the lead, escorted my father and Tullia to the nearest execution place, he followed them, together with several other Christians. The Praetorians discussed how they could complete their task in the shortest possible time and be in time for the show, and they decided to head for the Ostian gate and implement the execution by the burial monument. This was not really an official place of execution, but it was at least outside the walls.

“If it isn’t a place of execution, then we’ll make it into one now,” they joked. “Then the lady won’t have to walk so far in her gold sandals.”

Tullia snapped back that she could walk as far as her husband without any difficulty and no one could prevent her from doing so. As evidence of her strength, she supported my father, who, weighed down by his years, unused to physical exertion and weary from a whole night’s drinking, soon began to waver. Yet he had been neither drunk nor confused when he had risen to speak in the Senate, but had been carefully prepared for the event.

This was revealed at the search of his house. Obviously he had for several weeks been putting his financial affairs in order and he had spent his last night burning all his account books and the list of his freedmen together with his correspondence with them. My father had always kept quiet about his affairs and on the whole had not regarded his freedman’s property as his own, although naturally, so that they should not be offended, he had accepted the gifts they sent him.

Not until long afterwards did I learn that he had sent his loyal freedmen huge sums of money in cash so that the assets of his estate should not be revealed by any money orders. The magistrates had great trouble setding the estate, and in the end Nero received nothing of value except Tullia’s large country property which they had been forced to own in Italy for the sake of his office as senator, and then of course the house in Viminalis with its objets d’art, gold, silver and glass.

The most aggravating thing for the magistrates was that because of Nero’s hasty command, the Praetorians arrested everyone in the household who admitted to being Christian so that they would not disgrace my father. Among them were the Procurator and both scribes, whose deaths Nero bitterly regretted afterwards. In all, thirty people were taken to the circus from my father’s house.

From my point of view, the worst thing was that my son Jucundus and the aged Barbus were among those captured. After his burns from the fire, Jucundus was so crippled that he could move only with great effort on crutches, so he was taken to the circus in a sedan with Tullia’s aged nurse. This woman was certainly not a good person and she had a foul mouth, but she had willingly admitted to being a Christian when she heard that Tullia had done the same.

None of them realized why they had been ordered to the circus until they found themselves imprisoned in the stables. On the way there, they had still believed that Nero wished the Christians to witness the punishment of the instigators of the fire of Rome. The Praetorians were in such a hurry that they had not considered it necessary to inform them.

At the Ostian gate, where there were many souvenir shops, innkeepers with stalls, and sedans for hire, all of which had escaped the fire, my father suddenly stopped and said that he was very thirsty and wished to refresh himself with some wine before his execution. He offered to buy some for the Praetorians too, to compensate them for the trouble he and his wife were causing them on this festive day. Tullia had plenty of silver pieces with her, which in accordance with her position would have been thrown out among the people at the procession.

The innkeeper hurriedly fetched his best wine jars from the cellar and they all drink some wine, for the Praetorians were also hot in the warm autumn weather. As my father now stood outside all rank, he could with good conscience also invite the Christians who had followed him, and in addition some countrymen who, unaware of the feast day, had come into the city in vain to sell fruit.

After a few cups of wine, Tullia became sullen and in her usual way asked whether it was really necessary that my father again get drunk, and in bad company too.

“Dear Tullia,” my father remarked gently, “try to remember that I no longer have any rank. In fact, as we are both under sentence of death, we are more wretched than these friendly people who are kind enough to drink with us. My body is weak. I have never pretended to be a brave man. The wine disperses the unpleasant feeling I have at the back of my neck. Most pleasing to me is the thought that for once I need not give a single thought to my stomach and the bitter hangover of tomorrow, which you have always made so much worse with your biting words. But we’ll forget such things now, my dearest Tullia.

“Think of these honorable soldiers too,” he went on, even more eagerly, “who because of us are missing the many exciting sights as the Christians in Nero’s circus step into the kingdom through the mouths of wild animals, through flames and on crosses, and in all the other ways which Nero, with his artistic talents, can think of. Please don’t let me prevent you from singing, my men, should you feel like it. Leave your woman-stories until tonight though, as my virtuous wife is present. For me this is a day of great joy, for now at last a prophecy is being fulfilled which has bothered my head for nearly thirty-five years. Let us then drink, dear brothers, and you, my good wife, to the glory of the name of Christ. I don’t think he would mind, considering the moment and the situation. As far as I am concerned, he has many worse things to judge, so this innocent drinking bout will not increase my guilt gready. I have always been a weak and selfish man. I have no other defense except that he was born as a man to seek out the intractable and the poorly fleeced sheep as well. I have a vague memory of a story about how he once went out in the middle of the night to look for a stray sheep which he thought was worth more than the whole of the rest of the flock.”

The Praetorians listened attentively.

“There’s a lot in what you say, noble Manilianus,” they said. “In the legion, too, it is the weakest and the slowest who are the pacemakers and who decide the battle. And one can’t leave a wounded or a surrounded comrade in the lurch, even if it means risking a whole maniple. Ambushes, of course, are another matter.”

They began to compare their scars and talk about their exploits in Britain, Germany, in the Danube countries and in Armenia, as a result of which they had been posted as Praetorians in the capital. My father took the opportunity to speak to his wife.

“Why did you say you were a Christian?” he said. “You don’t believe that Jesus of Nazareth is the Son of God and the savior of the world. It wasn’t necessary. You’ve not even been baptized. At holy communion you took part reluctantly just to do your duty as hostess, but you’ve never tasted the bread and wine that has been blessed in the name of Christ. It hurts me that I’ve dragged you into this without cause. I thought quite seriously that as a widow you could live the life you preferred. You’d soon find another and better husband, for you are still beautiful in my eyes and well preserved for your age, and wealthy as well. I thought there would certainly be a rush of suitors to your house when the mourning period was over. That thought didn’t even make me jealous, for your happiness is more important to me than mine. We never agreed on Christ and his kingdom.”

“I’ll be just as good a Christian as you are, my dear Marcus,” Tullia said crossly, “when I die with you for the glory of the name of Christ. I’ve given my property to the poor to please you when I could no longer bear your eternal sulks. Haven’t you noticed that I’ve not reproached you in the slightest, although you’ve disgraced our name in the Senate with your dreadful obstinacy? I’ve my own views on your foolish behavior, but at a time like this, I’ll hold my tongue so as not to hurt you yet again.”

She softened, and winding her arms about my father’s neck, she kissed him and wet his cheeks with her tears.

“I’m not afraid to die,” she told him, “as long as I can die with you, Marcus. I can’t endure the thought of being a widow after you. You’re the only man I’ve ever really loved, although I had to divorce two and follow one to the grave before I found you again. You abandoned me cruelly once, without the slightest thought for my feelings. I went all the way to Egypt after you. I know I had other reasons for going as well, but you yourself had a Jewish girl with you in Galilee and then that horrible Myrina, of whose good reputation I have yet to be convinced even if you erect a hundred statues of her in all the market squares in Asia. But then I’ve had my weaknesses too. The main thing is that you love me and tell me I’m beautiful, although my hair is dyed and my chin slack and my mouth full of ivory teeth.”

As they talked together, the Christian youth with the narrow band on his tunic, encouraged by the wine, asked the centurion whether he had orders to capture other Christians that he met. The centurion denied this emphatically and said that he had only been ordered to execute my father and Tullia, and in the greatest possible secrecy.

Then the young knight said that he was a Christian and he suggested to my father that they should eat the holy Christian meal together and strengthen my father’s spirit, although they could not do so behind locked doors and it was not yet evening. But perhaps it could be managed, he said, considering the circumstances.

The centurion said that he had no objections and he did not fear witchcraft; indeed he was curious, for so much was being said about the Christians”. My father agreed willingly, but asked the youth to bless the bread and wine.

“I can’t do it myself,” he said, “perhaps because of my own vanity and stubbornness, but the spirit came to the disciples of Jesus of Nazareth at that time in Jerusalem and they baptized great numbers of peoples so that they all received the same spirit. I wished with all my heart to be baptized with the others, but they refused me because I was not circumcised, and they also asked me to keep silent about things I didn’t understand. I’ve remembered their commands all my life and I’ve never instructed anyone, except occasionally to tell of things, perhaps mistakenly, I myself have seen, or things I know are true, or to correct certain misunderstandings. I was baptized here in Rome, when Cephas in his goodness asked me to forgive his curtness that time. He has always stood in debt to me because once on the mountain in Galilee, I lent him my donkey so that he could send his mother-in-law home to Capernaum when she had hurt her foot and I was on my way to Jerusalem. Forgive my garrulousness. I see the soldiers are looking up at the sky. Babbling on about the past is an old man’s weakness. I think wine loosens my tongue much too much.”

They knelt, Tullia too, and with a few words the knight blessed the bread and the wine to the flesh and blood of Christ. They received grace with tears in dieir eyes and then kissed each other tenderly. Tullia said that she felt a trembling within her as if it were a foretaste of paradise. She was going there, hand in hand with my father, or wherever else he was going.

The Praetorians admitted that they could not see anything evil in this witchcraft. Then the centurion coughed meaningfully, after once again looking upward. My father hastily paid the bill, left a generous tip and gave the rest of the money to be divided among the centurion and the Praetorians, asking once more for their forgiveness for causing them so much trouble and blessing them in the name of Christ. The centurion delicately suggested that perhaps it would be best if they now moved behind the burial monument, for he had orders to accomplish his task as discreetly as possible.

The Christian knight now burst out weeping and said that when he had blessed the bread and wine, he had suddenly felt such certainty and knowledge that he no longer wished to wait out the rest of his years. He was tormented by the thought of so many humble Christians being allowed to suffer in the circus for the sake of the name of Christ, and perhaps he himself would not be able to stand fast in the approaching oppression. So he asked the centurion to allow him to take man’s most wonderful journey by cutting off his head too. He was as guilty as the other Christians, and the same punishment should come to him as to them.

The centurion marveled, but after a moment’s thought, admitted that he would probably not be failing in his duty in the slightest if he permitted the young man to die together with my father and Tullia. The result of this was that some listeners who had been sitting alongside the company eagerly begged for the same joy. I must add that I was told that my father had invited them all to liberal quantities of wine.

But the centurion refused firmly and said that his favor had its limits. One extra person he could execute and enter in his report, but to put several to death would attract attention and bring with it unnecessary wax-tablet filling, and his writing was not as good as it might be.

Instead he admitted that everything he had seen and heard had made such an impression on him that he would very much like to hear more about these things sometime. Christ was evidently a powerful god, if he could make death into a joy to his followers. At least, he had never heard of anyone who would be willing to die voluntarily, for instance, for Jupiter, nor even Bacchus. Although possibly Venus would be another matter.

The Praetorians took my father, Tullia and the knight, whose name the centurion drunkenly scratched on his wax tablet at the last minute, behind the monument and picked out the best swordsman, who would be able to sever their heads from their bodies with one blow. My father and Tullia died kneeling, hand in hand. One of the Christians who witnessed it all, and afterwards told me about it, maintained that the earth trembled and the sky opened in flames, dazzling the countrymen. But I expect he said that to please me or else he had dreamed it.

The Praetorians drew lots on who would have to stay behind to guard the bodies until relatives took charge of them. When those standing around saw this, they offered to see to the bodies, for all Christians were brothers and in that way each other’s relatives. The centurion regarded this statement as legally doubtful but accepted the offer gratefully, for he did not want to rob the guard of the pleasure of the circus show. It was about midday when they marched at the double back to the city and then to the circus on the other side of the river, in the hope of still getting a standing place among the other Praetorians.

The Christians took care of the bodies of my father, Tullia and the young knight. Out of consideration for the ancient family he belonged to, I shall not give the knight’s name, for he was the only son of elderly parents and he caused them great grief by his insane act. They had spoiled him and overlooked his association with Christians in the hope that in time he would forget such foolishness, in the way that young men in general, as soon as they marry, forget their barren philosophical speculations.

The bodies were tended with respect and buried uncremated in the earth. So my father did not use the burial place he had bought near the royal tombs in Caere, but I do not think he would have minded. At that time the Christians had begun to cut underground galleries and chambers and to bury their dead there. It is said that they hold their secret meetings in these underground places. This is considered sure evidence that their faith is corrupt since they do not respect the rest of their own dead. But by all means respect the catacombs, Julius, my son, and leave them in peace when your time comes, for in one of them lies your father’s father, awaiting the day of resurrection.

At midday, the distribution of food baskets began at the circus. Nero, dressed as a charioteer, had his snow-white team gallop twice around the arena with his golden chariot, as he greeted the jubilant crowd and wished them good appetite. Lots were thrown into the crowd too, but not as wastefully as before since Nero’s huge building operations were causing him financial difficulties. He hoped that this unusual show would recompense the people for their trouble, and in this he was, of course, right.

By that time I had calmed down and felt fairly satisfied, although the main part of the show after the meal break was my responsibility. In fact the theatrical displays which Nero had thought out were rather a failure from the audience point of view. I think the fault lay with the theater people, who had absolutely no idea of the Christians’ way of thinking.

In some ways, I am not competent to criticize, but I think the crowd would have been dissatisfied with the morning’s performance if my wild hounds had not excelled themselves right at the beginning, immediately after the procession of the gods and the Senate, and the reading of Nero’s speech in a shortened form. Thirty or so Christians in wild animal skins were driven into the arena and then a score of hounds let loose among them.

The hounds accomplished their task excellently once they had tasted blood and they did not shrink from attacking people. They chased the fleeing Christians across the arena, skillfully felled them with a vicious snap in the leg and then without a second’s hesitation made straight for the throats of their victims, without wasting unnecessary time biting and worrying. They had been starved and had not had a morning meal, but they did not stop to eat their victims, at the most contenting themselves with licking up a little blood to quench their thirst and then at once taking up the hunt again. I gave the hound trainer the highest praise.

The wedding of the Danaides did not at all turn out as it should have. The Christian youths and maidens in their costumes were not willing to perform the wedding dances, but stood listlessly in a huddle in the arena. The professional actors had to join in to compensate for their lack of enthusiasm. The idea had been that after the wedding, the brides were to have killed their bridegrooms in different ways, as the daughters of Danaus had done. But the Christian maidens flatly refused to kill anyone, although the youths would have had an easy death in that way.

The Caronians had to club some of them to death and the rest were tied firmly between bundles of sticks together with the other criminals waiting for the fire to be lit. I must admit that the crowd did have a good laugh when the Danaides rushed backwards and forwards between the fire and the arena water buckets with their sieves, trying to extinguish it. The screams of pain from the burning Christians were so penetrating that the sounds of the water-organ and the other instruments could not drown them. That spurred the girls into action.

Finally, a beautifully decorated wooden house with old men and women Christians chained to all the windows and doorways was set alight and gave a faithful picture of the horrors of the great fire as the flames began to lick their limbs. Many of those trying to extinguish the fire lost their lives when they quite unnecessarily flung down their sieves and threw themselves into the flames in a vain attempt to drag out their parents or brothers and sisters.

The entire circus, especially the upper rows of seats where the simplest people were sitting, spluttered with laughter. But several senators ostentatiously turned their faces away. Critical remarks on the unnecessary cruelty were heard from the knights, although of course, the best punishment for the fire-raisers of Rome was that they should be burned alive.

While this was going on, the people who had been arrested at my father’s house on Viminalis arrived and were hustled in with the rest of the condemned prisoners. When Barbus and Jucundus realized what was to happen, they tried vainly to have a word with me. The guards pretended not to hear them, for many of the prisoners pleaded all manner of pretexts when the screams began to be heard down in the cellars and the stables.

They were already divided into different displays and the groups were separated for the sake of order, so I had no reason to go down there. I had to rely on the experienced menagerie foremen and stay in my seat of honor as the organizer of the animal displays to receive the applause. I would not have had time to go down, even if I had had a message that someone wished to speak to me.

In addition, Jucundus, confused and uncertain on his crutches, was more or less convinced that a certain brotherhood, in fact insignificant, which he had formed with some Eastern boys at the Palatine school had been discovered and now he was to receive his rightful punishment. These youngsters, in their foolish youthful way, were in favor of crushing Parthia and setting up the capital in the East. In some ways, this was what Nero also sometimes considered when he was tired of the Senate. The difference lay only in that the Romans were to be ignored after a successful war in Parthia and the ruling power was to be transferred to the old Eastern royal families.

Naturally no one would have taken such boyish ideas seriously had they come to light, for boys will always be boys. But Jucundus, who was only fifteen and had just received the man-toga, was so conceited that he thought he was being punished for political conspiracy.

When Jucundus realized he was to die, he confided in Barbus, and since they had been unable to get in touch with me, they decided to die honorably together. And I do not know if I could have helped them even if I had known of their fate, for Nero was embittered by my father’s public insult in front of the Senate.

For practical reasons, I had arranged things so that for the whole of the second half of the program there would be wild animals in the arena. To lend variety and excitement to the show, I had decided to arm the Christians who wished to fight the animals. But I could only distribute swords, daggers and spiked clubs, which those who wanted them received at the entrance of the arena.

Jucundus and Barbus announced that they had chosen lions and swords and they had their way at once, for unfortunately most of the Christians were not willing to perform and only a few stated their wishes. Most of them wished to offer no resistance and to go to paradise as easily as possible. After the interval, to cheer the crowd up, I sent a group of Christians in animal skins out into the arena and another pack of hounds after them. But this time the hounds did not obey the whis-des, and having accomplished their task, stayed where they were, rushing around on the sand. I had no objection any longer, save that these harrier hounds were expensive beasts and should not be killed unnecessarily.

Then it was the turn of our three wild lions. They were handsome animals and I had good reason to be proud of them. On the advice of my experienced subordinates, I had kept a group of feeble old men, old women, cripples and half-grown children for the lions, for according to my information, nothing amuses the crowd more or arouses louder laughter than when dwarfs and cripples flee from wild animals. For this reason, Jucundus was well suited to the lions.

First the group had to be assembled, limping and hopping into the center of the arena, the hound trainers protecting them with their whips. Fortunately the hounds showed no interest in them because they were not in animal skins. Then Jucundus and Barbus stepped into the arena with their swords, leading the ten or so other armed Christians.

The crowd broke into a howl of laughter at the sight of this youngster, jogging along on his crutches, and the toothless old man presenting arms with his sword in front of the Imperial box. I was upset by this demonstration from the spectators and glanced at Nero. I suspect that he was offended by the laughter and my faulty judgment, although I could not have foreseen this, but he managed to keep a good countenance and laugh with them.

I must admit that I myself was irresistibly amused by Jucundus’ and Barbus’ conceited performance until I recognized them. But as they plodded out into the middle of the arena and arranged the other armed Christians in a circle around the older people and the children, I did not know who they were at all.

I could not have imagined anything so impossible as my own son and my most faithful servant ending up with the wild animals. Indeed, for a moment I wondered who had thought up the bright idea of putting these two comical creatures in the lead of those who were to fight the lions.

I think both Jucundus and Barbus were deeply offended by the spectators’ laughter. They had chosen the lions because Barbus had told Jucundus how in my youth I had captured a lion with my bare hands near Antioch. On the same occasion, he himself had shown great audacity and thus he considered that Hons were the wild animals about which he knew most.

For safety’s sake, he told Jucundus to put his crutches down and kneel behind him, so that he would not be immediately knocked over when the lions attacked, for he wished to protect Jucundus with his own body, to give him an opportunity to show his courage. I think that Barbus, in exchange for Jucundus’ confidence, had told him that I was his real father. No one else but my father and Barbus knew this. I had not even told Claudia of the consequences of my youthful lapse, although I had boasted to her about Lugunda when I had first returned from Britain.

When the lions’ gate was opened, Jucundus tried to attract my at-trillion by calling out to me and cheerfully swinging his sword to show me he was not afraid. And then the scales fell from my eyes and I recognized him and Barbus. It felt as if my stomach had fallen right down into my knees. In my despair, I cried out something about stopping the show.

Fortunately no one heard my order in the general hubbub, for when llie great lions rushed into the arena, the crowd shouted with delight and many spectators rose to their feet to get a better view. If I had slopped the show at its most exciting moment to save Jucundus, Nero would probably have been so angry that he would have sent me down into the arena as father to my son, and I do not see that that would have benefited anyone. As soon as I could collect my wits a bit I had myself under control again and was pleased that no one had heard my cry in that moment of despair.

Sabina, who regarded the lions as her property, had used every means she and Epaphroditus could imagine to excite them and arouse their lust for blood. Thus the three handsome creatures rushed into the arena so wildly that at the sudden change from darkness to sunlight, the largest lion stumbled over some smoking brands, rolled over and scorched its mane. Naturally it became angrier than ever, although no damage was done. The lions were dazzled by the light, increasing the general tension as they padded around roaring, without at first noticing the group of Christians in the middle of the arena, but occasionally ripping down a few of those who had been crucified on the protective fence.

Meanwhile Barbus had thought to run and fetch a smoldering piece of wood and encouraged the other armed Christians to do the same. By swinging the piece of wood in the air and blowing on it, he made it flare up and thus had a torch in his left hand and a sword in his right with which to meet the lion. A couple of the others managed to do the same before the lion noticed their running figures and struck one of them to the ground from behind without even giving him time to use his sword. Shouts of disgust came from the spectators who thought he had turned his back on the lion out of fear, although he was only running as fast as he could to get back to the unarmed Christians to protect them with his torch.

Then the hounds roaming around the arena unexpectedly became involved in the game. Responding to their training, they formed into a pack and fearlessly began to attack the lions from the rear. Thus it was easy for the Christians to defend themselves at first, for the lions had to keep whipping around with snarls of fury to shake off the hounds. With the help of a little luck, Barbus succeeded in poking out an eye of one lion before he fell, and Jucundus thrust his sword into its stomach and wounded it severely.

As the lion rolled on the ground and tore out its own guts, Jucundus dragged himself nearer on his knees and managed to give it a death blow, but the lion’s death throes ripped his scalp so that he was blinded by the blood. The crowd applauded him vigorously.

After fumbling for Barbus and realizing he was dead, Jucundus picked up the torch and swung it blindly as he tried to wipe the blood from his eyes with his sword hand. One of the other lions scorched its nose on the torch and was frightened, thinking it was an animal trainer’s red-hot iron it had to contend with, and turned away after easier prey. I began to fear that the display would fail and that I had relied too much on the Christians’ lack of skill with weapons.

But there were not many hounds left. They soon tired, so the two remaining lions could finish them off before hurling themselves onto the Christians. The hounds were so fearless that not one of them fled with its tail between its legs. One lion snapped the spine of the last hound with a skillful blow of its paw, so that the hound lay howling. One or two dog-lovers in the crowd rose to their feet and shouted that this was much too cruel a game. One must not torment dogs. One of the Christians put a merciful end to the animal’s suffering with a thrust from his sword.

Jucundus was still fighting. A Christian with a spiked club, seeing that he was the most skilled swordsman of them all, stepped forward to protect him from the rear. Together they managed to wound one of the lions severely. The crowd was so delighted that one or two thumbs were already turned upward, but this was of course to no avail and premature. Jucundus met his death.

The rest became uninteresting slaughter as the two lions attacked the unprotected huddle of Christians, who did not even run away, which might have amused the crowd. They remained standing close together so that the lions had to tear them away one by one. I was hurriedly forced to order in two bears to help the lions. At the very end, when all the Christians had been torn to death, the lions and the bears had a tremendous batde; and the wounded lion especially received huge applause for its blind courage.

I was upset by Jucundus’ death, although by then I already knew of certain events in Tigellinus’ garden during the fire of Rome, which meant that Jucundus deserved his punishment. But I shall return to that later. Now the responsibility for the show was mine, and it had to go on. Just then, one of the slaves from my country place in Caere came up to me, radiant with joy, and told me that Claudia had borne me a fine boy that same morning. Mother and child were well and Claudia was asking for my agreement to call the boy Clement.

I could see it only as a favorable omen that just as my son Jucundus had lost his life in a courageous battle with the lion, I had received the news that I had another son. The name Clement, the mild one, I did not think appropriate, considering the circumstances at the time I had heard of his birth, but in my joy I thought it best that Claudia should have her own way in the matter, for I knew only too well that there was a great deal of explaining to do to her later. And in my heart, I have been calling you Julius, my only son, for ten years.

The program went on with considerable variety for the whole afternoon. Naturally many surprises occurred, for they can never be avoided when wild animals are in the arena. These surprises were mostly fortunate ones and were credited to my organizing ability. Many bets were laid among the spectators and several fights broke out in the crowd, as always happens at these shows.

The sun was already beginning to sink as the show reached its peak with the Dirces and the Hyrcanian bulls. The delight of the crowd knew no bounds when all the arena gates were flung open at once and about thirty bulls rushed in, each with a scantily dressed girl tied to its horns. Out of sheer envy, the theater people had wished to receive the honor of this number, and after a long argument I had left the tying on of the girls to them and of course they and their helpers had made a wretched job of it, so that finally I had to ask my experienced herdsmen to help.

The block of stone I had taken so much trouble to have dragged into the arena turned out to be useless. As the theater people bellowed the saga of Dirce into megaphones to the crowd, the bulls effortlessly shook the girls off their horns, tossed them up into the air and gored them to death. Only two of them eventually crushed their Dirces to death against the stone as they should have done and as the myth demands, but this failure was not nly fault.

The remaining Christians were now driven out to the bulls. To my delight they abandoned their general indifference and behaved with incredible courage, as if suddenly seized with a longing for death, hurling themselves as if in a race straight at the bulls and flinging themselves onto their horns. The crowd shouted their acclaim and even began to feel a little sympathy for them.

But when this game came to an end, the bulls began to gore the crucified, knocking over the crosses and butting the protective fence with such force that those sitting nearest seriously began to fear that it would not hold. But the games were over now.

After a glance at the sky, I was able to heave a sigh of relief and order the bowmen to kill off the bulls. This they did so skillfully and courageously, often in close combat, that the spectators gave them their grateful applause as well, although I had feared that this necessary final number would bore the crowd.

Tigellinus had wanted to burn the protective fence with its nailed Christians at the very end, but Nero would not agree in case the fire spread and destroyed his circus. As the crowd streamed out through all the entrances, several Praetorians went around the arena killing the Christians with their lances, for Nero considered it reasonable that they should not suffer any longer than the Christians who had been burned at the stake or killed by the wild animals.

If anyone wonders why I did not spare my valuable wild bulls, then I shall say that it would have been stupid and lowered the whole value of the show if some of the crowd had been encouraged to stay on during the evening to watch the long and dreary business of capturing them. The bulls were so wild that several keepers at the menagerie might have lost their lives. But anyhow I was going to send such a colossal bill to Nero for my animals that I did not mourn the loss of my Hyrcanian bulls.

Tigellinus, who always had to be to the fore, thought he had the best of the day’s surprises prepared for the people as the crowd now hurried to the festive meal Nero had promised everyone in Agrippina’s gardens. He had used his right of jurisdiction outside the walls and had ordered that the park should be illuminated by the three thousand Christians who had been separated from the rest in the morning and put under guard in the gardens. There simply was no room for a circus show including five thousand people in the arena.

While the show had been in progress, poles and posts had been erected along the park roads and around the pools, and then the Christians had been chained to them. When there were no more iron chains left, the remainder were nailed to them through their hands.

Then the Christians were smeared with pitch and wax, of which Tigellinus’ procurator had, after a great deal of trouble, obtained a few loads. This would not be sufficient for any lasting illumination, so oil and such had also to be used. And on top of this, the Praetorians who had been allotted the task were disgruntled at missing the circus show, having instead to dig holes and erect poles in the heat of the autumn sun.

So when the’ crowd hurriedly left the circus to go to the meal as darkness fell, the Praetorians ran on ahead and set fire to the living torches along the route. They burned with screams of pain and a spreading suffocating stench, and the people did not really appreciate this incredible sight. Indeed, the more educated among them lost appetite because of the unpleasant smell of burning human flesh and began to go home. Others feared the fire might spread through the gardens when drops of burning pitch and wax scattered on the dry grass as the Christians writhed and struggled. Many people burned their feet as they tried to stamp out the smoking embers around the poles.

Thus when Nero, still dressed as a charioteer, came driving along the roads flanked by these human torches, he did not receive the acclaim he had expected. Instead, a sullen silence was maintained, and he saw several senators on their way back to the city.

He stepped down from his chariot to go to the people and press their hands, but there was no laughter at his jokes. When he tried to make Petronius stay, the latter said that he had endured a dull show for friendship’s sake, but there were limits to what his stomach would tolerate. He did not feel like eating even the very best steak in the world if it were spiced with the sickly fumes of human flesh.

Nero chewed his lips, his mouth swollen, and in his charioteer’s costume he looked more like a muscular, sweaty wrestler. He realized he had to find something else to amuse the people to make up for Tigellinus’ tasteless arrangements. To add to everything else, half-burned people began to fall from the poles as their ropes were scorched away and others in their pain tore loose their nailed hands and rushed flaming into the crowd.

Their pain-filled, shrieking, creeping, tumbling figures, hardly even human any longer, aroused nothing but terror and loathing. Angrily, Nero ordered them to be killed at once, together with those who were screaming loudly on their poles, disturbing his orchestra and its artistic playing.

He gave orders to have as much incense burned as could be found and for the park to be sprayed with perfume which had originally been intended for the guests. Everyone knows what this extravagance must have cost, not to mention all the ruined iron chains.

For my part, I was still busy with my duties at the circus, having briefly received the congratulations for a successful show from the more notable spectators. After that I hurried down to the arena to supervise the Caronians’ work with their clubs, but more than anything else to gather up what still remained of Jucundus and Barbus.

I found them quite easily. To my surprise, I found a Christian youth in the middle of all the torn bodies, his head in his hands and completely unhurt. When he had wiped away the blood that had poured over him, he had neither bite, scratch nor grazes from kicks on him. He stared dully up at the evening stars and asked whether he were in paradise. Then he told me he had thrown himself down in the sand, refusing to aggravate the wild animals by offering resistance. It was understandable that he had been saved, for neither lions nor wild bulls normally touch a person who acts as if he were dead. Many men trying to capture them have saved their lives in the same way.

I regarded his escape as a kind of omen and put my own cloak over his shoulders to save him from the Caronians’ clubs. I received my reward for this, for he could give me an exact account of everything Jucundus and Barbus had done and what they had discussed among the other prisoners.

The space had been so tight-packed with Christians that they had not even been able to sit down, and quite by chance the youth had found himself jammed next to Jucundus. Then too, Barbus had grown slighdy deaf in his old age and had had to tell Jucundus to speak up as he whispered his story of the foolish conspiracy among the boys.

The Christian youth regarded his escape as a miracle and said that Christ must have needed him for other purposes, although he had hoped to find himself in paradise with the other Christians by the evening. So I gave him some clothes, of which there were plenty, and saw to it that he was released unharmed through a side entrance of the circus.

He hoped that Christ would bless me for my mercifulness and my good deed and assured me that he believed that even I should one day find the true way. He innocendy told me that he had been a disciple of Paul and had been baptized Clement. This extraordinary coincidence made it easier for me to give way to Claudia’s whim that my son should be called Clement.

The young Christian misunderstood my surprise and explained apologetically that he was by no means especially good-tempered, but indeed had to practice humility to do penance for his impetuousness. This was why he had thrown himself down and refused to meet evil with evil. So he blessed me once again for my goodness and went into Rome along the road lit by human torches. But he was so certain that Christ needed him for some task to come that he probably did not grieve for long over not being allowed to accompany the others to paradise.

I met him again about three years later when in the course of my duties I was forced to mediate in the internal disputes of the Christians, in which I considered I ought to support Cletus. It was a question of who should inherit the shepherd’s stave after Linus. I thought that Clement was still much too young and I think he realized this himself later during his exercises in humility.

His turn will no doubt come one day, but you need not bother ‘ about that, Julius. The Christians have no political significance, in that their religion cannot hold out against the other Eastern religions. But never persecute them all the same, but leave them in peace, for the sake of your grandmother, Myrina, even if they do provoke you sometimes.

I had the remains of Jucundus and Barbus wrapped in a cloth. I also gave several frightened people permission to see to the remains of their kin if they could find them. I did not wish to accept the many gifts that were offered to me in exchange. Most of the bodies had to be taken off to a mass grave near the execution place of the lower orders, fortunately near at hand.

So I was able to hurry to Nero’s feast with a clear conscience and there, at the sight of Tigellinus’ reeking horrors, express my disapproval of his high-handedness. I had already calculated that there would be insufficient food for the huge number of spectators, so I had hurriedly had my wild bulls skinned and dismembered so that I could on my own behalf invite the people to eat the good meat.

But my appetite waned as first several senators glanced oddly at me and even turned their backs on me without returning my greeting, and then Nero thanked me for my part in the show with a surprising lack of enthusiasm and somewhat guiltily. Only then did I hear from his lips of the sentence on my father and Tullia, for Jucundus’ and Barbus’ unexpected appearance in the arena had remained a riddle to me despite the young Christian’s story. I had meant to ask Nero in biting tones, when he was in a favorable mood, how it was possible that a youth who was the adoptive son of a senator could be thrown to the wild animals among the Christians.

Nero described my father’s mental confusion at the meeting of the Senate that morning.

“He insulted me before the whole of the Senate,” he said, “but I did not condemn him. His own brothers in office pronounced the sentence unanimously, so that there was not even any need to take a vote. A senator cannot be condemned, even by the Emperor, without the other senators first being heard. Your stepmother turned the whole thing into a public scandal by her uncontrolled behavior, although with your reputation in mind, I should have preferred to keep the matter secret. The British youth whom your father had adopted took his duties to him far too seriously and declared himself a Christian. Otherwise he would never have been taken to the circus, although he was a cripple and would never have been any use as a knight. It’s no use grieving over his death, for your father was going to disinherit you, presumably because of the state of his mind. Actually you’ll lose nothing, although I’m bound to confiscate your father’s fortune. You know the trouble I’m having finding money to be able to live decently eventually.”

I thought it safest to explain that my father had handed over some of my inheritance seventeen years earlier, for me to fulfill the income demands of the Noble Order of Knights. But I had sold the sites on Aventine before the houses on them had been destroyed by the fire, and I had at first received large sums from my father for the menagerie, but Nero himself had benefited from that at the amphitheater shows.

Nero replied magnanimously that he had no thought of demanding the inheritance I had received so long ago, since he considered that my father’s estate would be quite sufficient and both the State treasury and his own building enterprises would receive a share. Indeed, he gave me permission to select a few souvenirs from my father’s house, as long as I let the magistrates list them first.

To avoid all possible suspicions later, I felt bound to admit that my father had, among other things, given me a goblet which was of great value to me personally. Nero was curious at first, but lost all interest when I told him it was only a wooden mug.

I realized then what danger I had been in because of my father’s insulting behavior, and I added hastily that this time I would not charge Nero a single sesterce for my wild animals and other expenses, as I knew very well that he needed every coin he could find to acquire a dwelling worthy of him. Indeed, I also gave him the rest of the meat from the wild bulls to offer to the people and suggested that he should sell the huge store of clothes that was still at the circus, as well as the jewelry and buckles that had been collected from the prisoners. Perhaps in this way he could pay for a few columns in the new arcade which was to link the buildings on Palatine and Coelius with the Golden Palace on Esquiline.

Nero was delighted and promised to remember my generosity. He was relieved that I had not reproached him for the deaths of my father and the person he thought was my stepbrother, and now acknowledged fully the part I had played in the show, admitting that the theater people had failed miserably and that Tigellinus had merely caused annoyance. The only thing he thought had been successful, apart from the wild animals, was the splendid music from the water-organ and the orchestra, the careful arrangements for which he himself had made.

I thought the clamor of the music had but disturbed the animals and distracted the crowd from some of the climaxes in the show, but this was only my personal opinion and I did not express it. I thought myself incompetent to judge the indifferent results of his efforts when my own had been so successful.

Despite all this, I was diepressed and had no appetite. As soon as I was no longer observed by envious eyes, I made an offering to my father and drank two goblets of wine. I sent my runner to find out where my father had been executed and the whereabouts of his and Tullia’s bodies. But they were not to be found, as I have already related.

I had to content myself with cremating Jucundus’ and Barbus’ remains in the morning on a hurriedly made pyre. I thought Barbus had earned the right to a pyre similar to my son’s by his loyalty and long service. When I had the last flames extinguished with wine, I gathered their ashes myself and placed them in an urn.

Later I put the urn in a mausoleum in Caere I had had built on the burial site my father had once bought. Jucundus was of old Etruscan blood on my father’s side and his mother, Lugunda, was of noble British stock. Barbus, on his side, had shown loyalty unto death, a sign of a certain nobility of mind. On the lid of their urn is a bronze Etruscan cockerel which crows eternal life for them, as you will see one day, Julius, when you go to Caere with the remains of your wretched, perplexed and unworthy father.

I was forced to take part in Nero’s banquet so as not to offend him by leaving early. I will gladly admit that he was very successful with the small displays he had arranged in illuminated places in the park-beautiful dancing, satyrs chasing nymphs among the bushes, a scene with Apollo and Daphne, and other things which might entertain the people and encourage a more fastidious audience to frivolous thoughts. The meal was plentiful, with the help of the meat from the bulls, and the fountains filled the pools with wine which was unmixed with water.

As the instigators of the fire had received their due punishment and all had been atoned for, the foremost ladies in Rome, together with all the colleges of priests, had arranged a superb conciliatory meal which became the climax of the feast in the gardens. For this purpose both the most sacred white stone cones had secretly been fetched from their temples.

They were now placed upon their sacred cushions in an illuminated tent, garlanded by the women and offered the traditional sacred meal, I watched with curiosity, remembering that the Romans had inherited this mystery from the Etruscans, and I fervently joined in with the holy laughter together with the senators and knights. The people were not allowed to laugh. Then the front of the tent flap was drawn across the opening and a little later the lights which shone through the canvas were suddenly extinguished without anyone touching them. We all heaved a sigh of relief at the success of the ceremony, which had been accomplished as tradition demantled.

While the stone cones, or the gods they represented, remained in the dark tent after the sacred meal, to embrace each other on their sacred cushions to the progress of Rome, Nero arranged a satyric play to counteract all this holiness. The only thing that can be laid against him is that he himself felt obliged to take part in it, in the belief that in this way he was gaining the favor of the people.

So, on an open stage, accompanied by profane wedding hymns, he had himself dressed as a bride and hid his face behind a scarlet veil. Skillfully imitating a woman’s voice, he then sang the customary lament. He was led to the bridal bed by Pythagoras, a handsome slave in bridegroom’s costume. A goddess appeared to console and advise the frightened bride. Whimpering with terror, Nero allowed the bridegroom to untie the two knots in the girdle and, virtually undressed, they finally sank onto the bed in each other’s arms.

Nero imitated a terrified maiden’s whimpers and squeals so well that the audience rocked with laughter, at which he went on to whimper with feigned pleasure, so that many noble ladies blushed and covered their eyes with their hands. Both he and Pythagoras carried out their roles so skillfully that it looked as if they had practiced the scene beforehand.

Nevertheless, Poppaea was so angry about this display that shortly afterward she left the banquet. An additional reason was, of course, that she was three months pregnant again and had to be careful of her health, and the exciting daylong circus show had fatigued her.

Nero did not mind that she left. Indeed, he took the opportunity, as the guests became more and more intoxicated, to lead various lewd games in dark corners of the park. He had invited all the women from the brothels the fire had spared and had generously paid their fees out of his own pocket. But there were many noble ladies and frivolous married men and women who partook in these games under the protection of darkness. Finally the bushes were full of rustling sounds, and the lustful grunts of drunkards and women’s cries could be heard everywhere.

I left to set Jucundus’ and Barbus’ funeral pyre alight. As I sprinkled their ashes with wine, I thought of Lugunda and my youth in Britain, when I had still been sensitive, so receptive to goodness and so innocent that I had vomited when I had killed my first Briton. At the same time that morning, although I did not know it then, Nero returned to Esquiline to sleep, soiled and dirty, and with his wine-soaked wreath askew.

Poppaea, easily irritated in the way pregnant women are, had lain awake, waiting for him to return, and she now directed some rough wifely words at him. In his fuddled state, Nero was seized with such rage that he kicked her in the stomach and then fell into bed in the deep sleep of a drunkard. The following day he did not even remember what had happened until he heard that Poppaea had had a miscarriage. She was very ill and it became apparent that not even the best doctors in Rome could help her, not to mention her old Jewish women with their magic formulae and witchcraft.

All honor to Poppaea, it should be mentioned that she did not once reproach Nero when she realized that her condition was hopeless. Indeed, even as she was dying, she tried to console him in his conscience-stricken state of sclf-rcproach by reminding him that she had always wanted to die before her beauty faded. She wished Nero to remember her until his dying day as she looked now, her tempting beauty intact, loved by Nero in spite of his action, which might have happened to any faithful married couple. Naturally Nero would have to marry again for political reasons, but all Poppaea wished was that Nero should not act too quickly in this, and that he should not have her body cremated. Poppaea wished to be buried in the Jewish way.

For political reasons, Nero could not have her buried with the rituals of the Jewish religion, but he did allow the Jewish women to gather around her body for the customary laments. He had Poppaea embalmed in the Eastern way and without demur sent the gifts she had willed to the temple in Jerusalem and the synagogues in Rome.

In the forum he made a memorial speech to the Senate and the people in honor of Poppaea, and he himself wept with emotion as he detailed the particular points of her beauty from her golden curls to her rosy toenails. A funeral procession took her embalmed body in a glass coffin to the mausoleum of the god Augustus. Many people were affronted by this, for Nero had not even given his own mother a place in the mausoleum, not to mention his consort, Octavia. Save for the Jews, the people did not mourn for Poppaea. She had no longer been content with silver horseshoes but had begun to shoe her mules with gold, and she had aroused bad blood with her eternal baths in asses’ milk.

I myself grieved that the enchanting Poppaea had died so young. She had always been friendly toward me and would probably have confirmed this friendship in my arms at one time, had I had the sense to ask her boldly to do so. She was not so virtuous as I had at first believed when I had fallen so blindly in love with her, but unfortunately I did not see that until she had married Otho.

Now I have told you all this, I must go on to tell you about your mother, Claudia, and her attitude toward me. At the same time I must describe my part in the Pisonian conspiracy and its exposure. That is perhaps an even more painful task.

But I shall do my best, as I have done up to now, to describe everything moderately honestly, without justifying myself too much. Perhaps you will learn something of the weaknesses of man when you read this one day, Julius, my son. Despise me if you wish. I shall lose nothing by that. I shall never forget that cold clear look of a fourteen-year-old that you gave me, when your mother forced you to come and see your despicably wealthy and despicably foolish father at this distant resort where I am trying to cure my ailment. It was a chilling look, sterner than the worst winds of winter. But then you are a Julian, of divine blood, and I am only a Minutus Manilianus.