The Secret of the Kingdom

Book XI

Antonia

Naturally I wanted to acknowledge you officially as my son and give you the name Claudia had requested, but I thought it wiser to let a little time go by first so that your mother had time to calm down.

I could not prevent Claudia in Caere finding out about what had happened in Rome and how I had unwillingly, on Nero’s orders, been forced to organize the execution of the Christians in an appropriate manner. Of course, I had also sent some Christians to the security of my country property, and warned others, and I had perhaps saved Cephas’ life by frightening Tigellinus with his reputation for sorcery.

But I knew Claudia’s violent temper and I also knew how wives in general misconstrue their husbands’ actions without considering the necessary demands of politics and other such things which only men understand. So I considered it best to allow Claudia to come to her senses and consider what she had heard.

In addition I had so many impending duties in Rome that I could not immediately travel to Caere. Replacing the stock of wild animals at the menagerie and getting compensation for my other animal losses required all my energies. But I must admit that I had begun to feel a certain distaste for the menagerie in general, especially when I thought of Claudia.

Aunt Laelia’s unexpected suicide was another unavoidable obstacle to my journey. I did my best to keep it secret, but nonetheless it gave rise to more gossip about me than ever. I still cannot understand why Laelia took her own life, if it was not just her confused state of mind. I presume my father’s dismissal as a senator and his execution were such a blow to her reason, that out of some kind of misguided sense of honor she felt duty bound to commit suicide. Perhaps in her distorted state of mind, she considered that I should have done the same out of respect for the Emperor and the Senate, and wished to set me a good Roman example.

She persuaded her equally confused servant woman to open her veins, and when her aged blood refused to flow even in a hot bath, she finally suffocated herself with fumes from the charcoal brazier she always had in her room, for like all old people she always felt the cold. She ordered the servant woman to block all the cracks in the doors and windows carefully from the outside. She was still rational enough to do this.

I did not miss her until the following day when the servant came and asked me whether she should not now air the room. I could not bring myself to reproach this simple, toothless old woman who kept saying that she had been forced to obey her mistress’s orders. I was much too shaken by this new disgrace which had befallen my reputation and my name.

Naturally I had Aunt Laelia’s body cremated with full family honors and I made a memorial speech to her at a private funeral feast, although it was difficult to do so, for I was very angry. It was also difficult to find anything to say about Aunt Laelia’s life and her good points. I did not invite Claudia to the memorial celebrations as she had only just risen from the childbed, but I wrote to her and told her about this sad event and explained why I had still to remain in the city.

To tell the truth, I had a great deal to endure at that time. The courageous conduct of the Christians in the circus and their inhuman punishment, which had provoked loathing in our pampered youth, already influenced by Greek culture, had created secret sympathy for the Christians in the most unexpected quarters, in which Nero’s accusations were not believed. I lost many friends who I had thought faithful to me.

As evidence of their distortions and ill-will, I shall relate how it was said that I had denounced my stepbrother Jucundus as a Christian because I was afraid I should have to share my inheritance from my father with him. My father, who had already disowned me because of my bad reputation, was said to have intentionally arranged for his fortune to be taken by the State, just so that I should not have a share in it. What would they have thought up if they had known that Jucundus was my own son? I was talked about in society in this false and hostile way, so I can only guess what was said about me among the Christians. Naturally-I avoided them as much as I could so that I should not be suspected of favoring them.

The general feeling was such that I could not show myself in the streets without sufficient escort. Even Nero thought it as well to let it he known that although he had shown clearly enough that he could be stern if necessary, he was now considering abolishing capital punishment throughout the country. After that no one, even in the provinces, could be sentenced to death, even for the worst crimes. Instead the condemned were sent to forced labor to rebuild Rome, mostly Nero’s new palace, which he had now begun to call the Golden Palace, and the Great Circus.

This statement was not made from mildness and love of mankind. Nero was beginning to run very seriously short of money and needed free labor for the hardest work. The Senate confirmed the order, although during the discussion many of the fathers gave stern warnings against the consequences of abolishing the death sentence and considered that both crime and other godlessness would increase.

The general atmosphere of irritability and discontent did not result solely from the punishment of the Christians, for this had been but a pretext for many people who required an outlet for their hatred of the ruling power. Only now did the taxes necessary for the rebuilding of Rome and Nero’s own building plans begin to make themselves fully felt at all levels of society. The price of grain had of course been raised after the first emergency measures and even the slaves were made to feel the gradual decreases in the distributions of bread, garlic and oil.

Naturally a whole Empire could afford the building of a Golden Palace, especially since Nero sensibly spread the work over several years, although he hurried the building on as much as possible. He said that at first he would be content with a reasonable banqueting hall and a few bedrooms, and the necessary arcade for representations. But Nero had no head for figures, and in the way of artists, would not listen patiently to informed people’s explanations. He took money wherever he could extract it, without thinking of the consequences.

In return, he appeared as a singer and an actor at several theater performances and invited the ordinary people to them. In his vanity, he thought that his splendid voice and the pleasure of seeing him on the stage in different roles would make people forget their own not inconsiderable material sacrifices, which would become as nothing beside this great art. In this he was profoundly mistaken.

Many unmusical people of standing began to regard these eternal performances as an insufferable nuisance which was difficult to escape, for Nero, at the slightest sign, would perform encores long into the night.

Pleading several reasons, and of course with you in mind, I managed to persuade Claudia to stay in the healthy air of Caere for nearly three months. I did not read her bitter letters too carefully and simply replied that I would bring her and you to Rome as soon as my duties permitted it and I thought it favorable from the point of view of her security.

Actually, after the circus show the Christians were persecuted little, if at all, as long as they behaved themselves. But generally speaking they were understandably frightened by the apparently chance mass punishment and they kept silent and hidden away.

When they assembled in their secret meeting places underground, they soon began quarreling bitterly among themselves again and asked each other why the denouncements had been so numerous and why Paul’s followers had denounced Cephas’ followers and vice versa. Inevitably, they divided up into closed secret societies. The weakest among them were seized with despair, no longer knowing which was the best way to follow Christ. They avoided the fanatics and retired into their own loneliness.

In the end, Claudia returned to Rome of her own accord, accompanied by her own Christian servants and all the refugees to whom I had offered sanctuary on my farms in exchange for a little work from them. I hurried to meet her with a cry of joy, but at first she would not even show you to me, but ordered the nurse to take you into the house away from my evil eyes.

She told her companions to surround the house so that I should not get away. I must admit that, after consulting the household gods and my guardian spirit, I too momentarily feared for my life when I remembered that your mother is a daughter of Claudius and has inherited her father’s ruthless and capricious nature.

But after looking about the house, Claudia became comparatively reasonable and said that she wished to have a serious talk with me. I assured her that nothing would please me more, as long as all the vessels and souvenir daggers were first removed from the room.

Naturally Claudia accused me of being a murderer, a simple assassin with blood on my hands, and maintained that my adoptive brother’s blood cried to heaven, accusing me before God. Through my lust to kill, I had brought the wrath of Jesus of Nazareth down on my head.

In fact I was relieved to note that she did not know Jucundus was my son, for women are often frighteningly perceptive in such matters. I was much more affronted by her insane accusation that Aunt Laelia had committed suicide because of me. But I told her that I would forgive her these evil words and I also told her to ask Cephas, for instance, about how much I had done for the Christians and to save him from Tigellinus’ clutches.

“You mustn’t believe only Prisca and Aquila and some others whose names I won’t bother to mention,” I said. “I know they are followers of Paul. And take note too that I have helped Paul in his day to escape several charges. He’s not even sought after in Iberia at present because, partly thanks to me, Nero no longer wishes to hear about the Christians.”

“I’ll believe whom I like,” said Claudia angrily. ‘You always wriggle out of things. I can’t think how I can go on living with a man like you, with your hands dripping with the blood of the faithful. There’s nothing I regret more than that you are the father of my son.”

I thought perhaps I had better not remind her of who it had been who had first come to my bed and that it was I who had at her pressing request made an honest woman of her by secretly marrying her. Fortunately the secret documents which had been left in the keeping of the Vestals had been destroyed in the fire, and the State archives had also been burned down; thus I had no need to fear that my marriage would be revealed. So I was sensible and kept my mouth shut, for I could read an obvious wish to negotiate in your mother’s words.

Claudia laid down her conditions. I must improve my way of life inasmuch as that was possible for a godless person like myself. I must also ask Christ for forgiveness for my ill deeds, and first and foremost I must leave the menagerie and the office of superintendent without delay.

“If you won’t think of me and my reputation, then at least you might think of your son and his future,” said Claudia. “Your son is one of the last people in Rome who has both Julian and Claudian blood in his veins. For his sake, you must obtain a position of standing so that as a man he need not know of your shameful past.”

Claudia thought I would resist her with all my strength because I had put so much money into the menagerie and my wild animals, and won such acclaim at the amphitheater for my shows. So I found myself in an advantageous position to negotiate with her on the future. I had myself decided to leave the menagerie, although not, of course, because of the slaughter of the Christians at the circus. I had been against that from the start, but had of necessity been forced to organize the task as appropriately as possible despite the great effort and shortage of time involved. I see no reason why I should be ashamed of that.

The most important reason was that I had to come to some financial agreement with my first wife, Flavia Sabina. It had been easy for me to promise her half my fortune when Epaphroditus had been throttling me, but as time went by, I felt more and more antipathy to this thought.

As I now had a son whom I could be quite certain was my own, I also considered it unjust that my little five-year-old illegitimate Lausus should one day inherit as much as he would. I had nothing against Lausus as such, but as the years went by he grew more and more dark-skinned and more and more curly-headed, so that sometimes I was ashamed that I had to allow him to use my name.

On the other hand, I knew very well that the powerful Epaphroditus was completely in Sabina’s hands, and Sabina was sufficiently ruthless to have me murdered if I bargained too far. But I had thought out an excellent plan to be rid of my problem and had in preparation even talked about it to Sabina.

Epaphroditus had received his freedman’s stave and citizenship from Nero himself long before I had any idea of the relationship between him and Sabina. Not that Sabina had not lain with other animal trainers now and again as well, but after our divorce, Epaphroditus had held a surprisingly tight rein on her and had beaten her now and again, much to her satisfaction.

I had decided to give to Sabina the entire menagerie with its slaves, wild animals, contracts and all, and to suggest to Nero that he appoint Epaphroditus as superintendent in my place. Epaphroditus was a citizen, but for the sake of my own reputation it was important that my successor should also be a member of the Noble Order of Knights.

If I could persuade Nero to have an African enrolled into the roll of knights for the first time in the history of Rome, then Sabina could be legally married to him. This would be all the easier now that her father had disowned her and there would be no Flavian family opposition to stop the marriage. In exchange for this, Sabina had promised to adopt Lausus and give up his right to inherit from my estate. But she would not believe that Nero would appoint a man who was at least half Negro to be a Roman knight.

Nevertheless, I knew Nero, and had all too often heard him boast that nothing was impossible for him. As an artist and friend of mankind he did not regard a colored skin or even Jewishness as an obstacle to State office. In the African provinces many colored men had long since acquired the rank of knight in their home cities, via wealth or military merits.

When I agreed to Claudia’s conciliatory suggestions, apparently hesitantly and complaining of my losses, not only had I nothing to lose, but I was also escaping considerable financial sacrifices: Sabina’s demands and those of my son Lausus. It was worth doing one’s best for all this, although I gloomily prophesied to Claudia that Nero would be offended at my resigning from an office he had appointed me to. I would be in disfavor and perhaps would even be risking my life.

Claudia replied with a smile that I need no longer bother about Nero’s favor since I had already endangered my life by bringing a son with Claudian blood in him into the world. Her remark brought a cold shiver to the back of my neck, but now she graciously agreed to show you to me as we were reconciled.

So I plucked up my courage and asked Sabina, Epaphroditus and Lausus to come with me, and asked for an audience with Nero in the completed part of the Golden Palace on one of those afternoons when I could count on his having finished his meal and refreshing bath and continuing his drinking and pleasures late into the night. Artists were just completing the murals in the corridors, and the circular banqueting hall, glittering with gold and ivory, was still only half finished.

You were a beautiful, faultless child, gazing far away with your dark blue eyes and gripping hard on my thumb with your small fingers, as if you wished to rob me of my gold ring at once. You took my heart anyhow, and nothing like that had ever happened to me before. You are my son and you can do nothing about it.

Nero was just planning a giant statue of himself which was to be erected in front of the link arcade. He showed me the drawings and drew attention to the sculptor in such a flattering way that he introduced the craftsman to me, as if we were of the same rank. I was not offended, for the main thing was that Nero should be in a good mood.

He willingly sent the craftsman away when I asked to speak to him alone, and then looked guilty, rubbing his chin and admitting that he too had some things to talk to me about. He had been putting them off for fear I should be annoyed.

I explained verbosely to him how I had long and faithfully sacrificed myself to the care of the menagerie in Rome and that I now felt that this task was beyond me, especially in view of the new menagerie which was being built in connection with the Golden Palace. I felt that I could not manage this task which demantled artistic taste, so I should be extremely grateful if he could release me from the office.

When Nero noticed the trend my long speech was taking, his face cleared and he burst out laughing in relief and slapped me on the back in the most friendly way as a sign of his favor.

“Don’t worry, Minutus,” he said. “I shall grant your request. All the better as I’ve been looking for some excuse to dismiss you from the office at the menagerie. Ever since the autumn, influential people have been attacking me about the excessively cruel show you arranged and demanding that you should be dismissed as a punishment for the poor taste you showed. I must admit that certain details in the show were rather unappetizing, although the fire-raisers certainly deserved their punishment. I’m glad that you yourself see that your position has become untenable. I had no idea you would abuse my confidence and arrange for your own stepbrother to be thrown to the wild animals because of some dispute over inheritance.”

I opened my mouth to deny this insane accusation, but Nero went on without stopping.

“Your father’s estate,” he said, “is so complicated and his affairs so obscure that I have not even received a return on my outlay yet. It is whispered that in complete agreement with your father, you have smuggled out most of his fortune to cheat the State and me. But I don’t believe this of you, for I know you and your father did not get on together. Otherwise I’d be forced to banish you from Rome. I strongly suspect your father’s sister, who had to commit suicide to avoid punishment. I hope you’ve nothing against my asking the magistrates to take a look at your own books. I would never do such a thing if I weren’t so short of money all the time because of certain people’s advice. They sit hugging the money bags and refuse to help the Emperor to acquire a decent place to live in. Believe it or not, not even Seneca took the trouble to send more than ten million sesterces, he who in his time pretended to want to give me everything he possessed, knowing per-fecdy well that for political reasons I couldn’t accept it. Pallas sits on his money like a fat bitch. I’ve heard it said of you that a few months before the fire you sold all your apartment houses and sites in the parts of the city which were most affected by the fire and bought cheap land in Ostia which has since become unexpectedly valuable. Such foresight looks suspicious. If I did not know you, I might accuse you of taking part in the Christian conspiracy.”

He burst out laughing. I took the chance of remarking stiffly that of course my fortune was always at his disposal, but that I was not as wealthy as people made out. In that respect I could not be mentioned in the same breath as men like Seneca and Pallas. But Nero patted me on the shoulder.

“Don’t be angry at my little joke, Minutus,” he said. “It’s better for your own sake that you should know what is gossiped about you. An Emperor is in a difficult position. He has to listen to everyone and never knows whose intentions are sincere. But my own judgment tells me that you are more stupid than farsighted, so I cannot behave so badly as to confiscate your property just because of gossip and your father’s crimes. It will be punishment enough that I have dismissed you from office for incompetence. But I don’t know whom to appoint in your place. There are no applicants for such an office which has no political significance.”

I could have said one or two things on its significance, but instead I took the opportunity to suggest that the menagerie be turned over to Sabina and Epaphroditus. In that case I would not demand any compensation and the magistrates need not bother about my accounts. Such a measure would not appeal to me, as an honest man. But first it would be necessary to promote Epaphroditus to a knight.

“There is not a word in any of the laws about the color of a Roman knight’s skin,” I said. “The only condition is a certain wealth and annual income, though of course it depends on your favor whom you appoint. And to Nero nothing is impossible, I know that. But if you think you could consider my suggestion, let me summon Epaphroditus and Sabina. They can speak for themselves.”

Nero knew Epaphroditus by sight and by reputation, and had probably laughed over my gullibility together with my other friends before my divorce. Now it amused him that I was putting in a word for Epaphroditus. He seemed even more amused when Sabina led Lausus in by the hand and he could compare the color of the boy’s skin and hair with Epaphroditus’.

I think all this simply strengthened Nero’s belief that I was a stupid and gullible man. But I only benefited from this. I could not under any circumstances allow the magistrates to look into my accounts, and if he believed that Epaphroditus had feathered his own nest at my expense, that was his business.

In fact Nero was attracted by the idea of showing his power to the Noble Order of Knights by having Epaphroditus’ name put in the rolls of the temple of Castor and Pollux. He was clever enough to know what such a measure would yield in the African provinces. He would show in this way that Roman citizens were equal under his rule, regardless of the color of their skin and their origins, and that he really was without prejudice.

So everything was successful. At the same time, Nero gave his consent to Sabina and Epaphroditus marrying and adopting the boy who had hitherto been registered as my son.

“But I’ll allow him to go on using the name Lausus in memory of you, noble Manilianus,” said Nero mockingly. “It is nice of you to hand over the boy completely to his mother and stepfather. It shows that you respect mother love and ignore your own feelings, although the boy is as like you as two peas in a pod.”

If I thought I had played a joke on Sabina by off-loading the burden of the menagerie on to her, then I was deceiving myself. Nero took a liking for Epaphroditus and had even his most exorbitant bills paid. Epaphroditus saw to it that the animals in the new menagerie in the Golden Palace were to drink out of marble troughs, and the panther cages had silver bars. Nero paid without a murmur, although I had had to pay the huge water bills from my own pocket when the city water supplies had been reorganized after the fire.

Epaphroditus knew how to arrange certain special animal displays for Nero which amused Nero, but I cannot describe them for reasons of decency. In a very short time Epaphroditus became a wealthy man and one of Nero’s favorites, thanks to the menagerie.

My dismissal put an end to the stone-throwing at me in the streets. People began to laugh at me instead and I regained some of my former friends, who magnanimously considered they ought to show pity for me now that I had fallen into disfavor and was an object of fun. I did not complain, for it is better to be laughed at than to be hated by everyone. Claudia, of course, being a woman, did not understand my reasonable attitude, but begged me to improve my reputation for the sake of my son. I tried to be tolerant toward her.

My patience was stretched to breaking point. In her maternal pride, Claudia wished to invite both Antonia and Rubria, the eldest of the Vestals, to your naming day so that I should legitimatize you in front of them, since old Paulina had died in the fire and could not be our witness. Claudia had realized what the destruction of the Vestal archives meant.

She said that it would be kept secret, of course, but in any case wanted a couple of reliable Christian men to be present. Time and time again she told me that the Christians more than anyone else had learned to keep their mouths shut because of their secret meetings. I thought they were the worst informers and chatterboxes. And Antonia and Rubria were women. To initiate them into it all seemed to me to be the same as getting up on the roof and shouting out my son’s descent all over the city.

But Claudia was stubborn, despite my warnings. Of course in itself, it was a great honor that Antonia, Claudius’ legal daughter, should acknowledge Claudia as her half sister and also take you and give you the name Antonianus in memory of both herself and your great ancestor Marcus Antonius. It was more frightening that she promised to remember you in her will.

“Don’t even talk about wills,” I cried, to keep her off the subject. “You are many years younger than Claudia and a woman in the best years of her life. In fact we are contemporaries, but Claudia is over forty, since she is about five years older than I am. I shall not even consider making a will for many years yet.”

Claudia did not like my remark, but Antonia stretched her slim body and gave me a veiled look with her arrogant eyes.

“I think I’m quite well preserved for my age,” she said, “although your Claudia is beginning to look a little worn, if one can put it that way. Sometimes I miss the company of a lively man. I am lonely after my marriages, which both ended in murder, for people are afraid of Nero and avoid me. If only they knew.”

I saw that she was burning to talk abut something. Claudia also became inquisitive. Only old Rubria smiled her wise old Vestal smile. We did not have to encourage Antonia much for her to tell us with feigned modesty that with great tenacity Nero had several times asked her to be his consort.

“Naturally I could not agree to that,” said Antonia. “I told him straight out that my half brother Britannicus and my half sister Octavia stood out all too clearly in my mind. Out of sensitivity, I said nothing of his mother, Agrippina, although as niece of my father she was my cousin and so a cousin of yours, my dearest Claudia.”

At the memory of Agrippina’s death I had a sudden attack of coughing and Claudia had to thump me on the back and warn me against emptying my wine goblet with such haste. I was wise enough to remember my father’s unfortunate fate when he had in his confusion in the Senate brought about his own ruin.

Still coughing, I asked Antonia what Nero had given as a reason for his proposal. She fluttered her blue-shadowed eyes and looked down at the floor.

“Nero told me that he had loved me secretly for a long time,” she said. “He said that that was the only reason why he had borne such a grudge against my dead husband Cornelius Sulla, whom he thought was much too unenterprising a husband for me. Perhaps that excuses his behavior toward Sulla, although officially he stated only political reasons for having Sulla murdered in our modest home in Massilia. Between ourselves, I can admit that my husband had in fact secret connections with the commantlers of the legions in Germany.”

When she had in this way shown that she completely trusted us as her relatives, she went on: “I am woman enough to be a little touched by Nero’s open admission. It’s a pity that he’s so untrustworthy and that I hate him so bitterly, for he can be sympathetic when he wants to be. But I kept my head and referred to the age difference between us, although it is no greater than that between you and Claudia. I have been used to regarding Nero as a nasty boy since childhood. And naturally, the memory of Britannicus is an insurmountable obstacle, even if I might forgive him for what he did to Octavia. Octavia was herself responsible in that she seduced Anicetus.”

I did not tell her what a clever actor Nero could be when it was a question of his own advantage. With his position in mind, it would of course have been very valuable with regard to the Senate and the people if he were able to be allied to the Claudians in yet a third way through Antonia.

The thought of this depressed me and in my heart I did not want you ever to be disgraced in public by your father’s descent. By secret means I had acquired the letters, together with other documents, which my father, before I was born, had written but had never sent to Tullia from Jerusalem and Galilee. From them it appeared that my father, seriously confused by his unhappy love, through a forged will and Tullia’s betrayal of him, had descended to believing everything the Jews had told him, even hallucinations. The saddest thing from my point of view was that the letters revealed my mother’s past. She was no more than a simple acrobatic dancer whom my father had freed. No more was known about her descent than that she came from the Greek islands.

So her statue in Myrina in Asia and all the papers my father had acquired in Antioch on her descent were simply dust thrown in people’s eyes to ensure my future. The letters made me wonder whether I was even born in wedlock or whether my father, after my mother’s death, had acquired the evidence by bribing the authorities in Damascus. Thanks to Jucundus, I myself had found how easy it was to arrange such things if one had money and influence.

I had not mentioned my father’s letters and documents to Claudia. Among the papers, which from a financial point of view were very valuable, there were also a number of notes in Aramaic on the life of Jesus of Nazareth, written by a Jewish customs official who had been an acquaintance of my father’s. I felt I could not destroy them, so I hid them away together with the letters in my most secret hiding place where I had certain papers which would not tolerate the light of day.

I tried to overcome my depression and raised my goblet in honor of Antonia because she had so sensitively succeeded in repudiating Nero’s approaches. She finally admitted that she had given him a kiss or two, in a sisterly way, so that he would not be too indignant at her refusal.

Antonia forgot her harassing suggestions about remembering you in her will. We took you on our knees in turn, despite your violent kicks and screams. So you received the names Clement Claudius Antonianus Manilianus, and that was a sufficiently burdensome heritage for an infant. I gave up my idea of calling you Marcus as well, in memory of my father, which I had thought of doing before Antonia came with her suggestion.

When Antonia left for home in her sedan that night she took farewell of me with a sisterly kiss, as we were legally if also secretly related to one another, and asked me to call her sister-in-law in future when we met alone. Warmed by her friendliness, I eagerly returned her kiss. I did so gladly. I was a trifle drunk.

Again she complained of her loneliness and hoped that I, now that we were related, would come and see her sometimes. I did not necessarily have to take Claudia with me since she had so much to do with the boy, and our large house and her years were probably beginning to weigh on her. She was, however, by descent the most noble lady alive in Rome.

But before I can tell you how our friendship developed, I must return to the affairs of Rome.

In his need for money, Nero tired of the complaints from the provinces and the bitter criticism of the purchase tax from businessmen. He decided to rid himself quite illegally of his problems by cutting the Gordian knot. I do not know who suggested the plan to him, as I was not in on the secrets of the temple of Juno Moneta. Anyhow, whoever it was, he far more than the Christians deserved to be thrown to the wild animals as a public enemy.

In all secrecy, Nero borrowed the votive gifts of gold and silver from the gods of Rome; that is, set up Jupiter Capitolinus as mortgager and himself borrowed from Jupiter. Of course he had a legal right to do this, although the gods did not approve. After the fire, he had had all the melted metal, which was not all pure gold and silver but contained some bronze, collected. Now he melted it all together and day and night had new gold and silver pieces struck in the temple of Juno Moneta, coins which contained a fifth less gold and silver than before. The pieces were both lighter and, because of all the copper in them, duller than the previous brilliant coins.

The minting of these coins took place in complete secrecy and under strict guard, with the excuse that the affairs of Juno Moneta were never public, but of course rumors still reached the ears of the bankers. I myself began to prick up my ears when coins began to be in short supply and everyone began pressing with money orders or asking for a month’s grace before paying for larger purchases.

I did not believe the rumor for I regarded myself as Nero’s friend and could not believe that he, an artist and not a businessman, could have been guilty of such a terrible crime as intentional forgery of coins, especially since ordinary people had been crucified when they had made a coin or two for their own use. But I followed everyone else’s example and saved as much coinage as possible. I did not even embark on the customary contracts for corn and oil, although this gave rise to animosity among my customers.

The financial confusion became worse and prices rose day by day before Nero released his forged coins into circulation and announced that the old coins must be exchanged for new ones within a certain time, after which anyone found with the old coins would be regarded as an enemy of the State. Only taxes and duty could be paid with old coins.

To the shame of Rome, I must admit that the Senate confirmed this order by a considerable majority. So one cannot blame Nero alone for this crime against all decency and business customs.

The senators who voted for Nero justified their action by asserting that the rebuilding of Rome demantled a fundamental operation. They maintained that the rich would suffer more from this exchange of coins, because the rich owned more coinage than the poor and Nero did not consider it worth forging copper coins. This was nonsense. The senators’ property mostly consists of land, if they do not do business through their freedmen, and every one of the voting senators had had time to place such good gold and silver coins as they owned in safety.

Even the simplest country people were clever enough to hide their savings in clay pots and bury them in the earth. Altogether about a quarter of the coins that were in circulation were exchanged for the new ones. Of course, it should be noted that a great deal of Roman coinage had spread to the barbarian countries and all the way to India and China.

This unimaginable crime of Nero’s made many people think again, people who had understood and for political reasons forgiven him even the murder of his mother. The members of the Order of Knights who were in business, and the wealthy freedmen who controlled all business life, found cause to reconsider their political views because the new coinage reduced the whole of the public economy to confusion. Even experienced businessmen suffered stinging losses because of the change.

Only those who led a frivolous life, the idlers who were always in debt, were delighted with this move and admired Nero more than ever, for now they could pay their debts with money which was worth a fifth less than before. The clinking of citterns by long-haired singers of lampooning songs about rich men’s houses and in front of the exchanges, irritated me too. After this, all the aesthetes were more convinced than ever that nothing was impossible to Nero. They thought he was favoring the poor at the expense of the rich and had the courage to treat the Senate as he wished to. There were many senators’ sons among these flabby youths.

Hoarding of the old coinage was so general that no right-thinking person could regard it as a crime. It did not help that poor market traders and country people were imprisoned or sent to forced labor. Nero was forced to make temporary departures from his usual mild methods and threaten the coin hoarders with the death sentence. Nevertheless, no one was executed, for in the depths of his soul Nero realized that he himself was the criminal and not the poor who were attempting to hide the few genuine silver pieces which were their life’s savings.

I myself came to my senses and had one of my freedmen hurriedly form a bank and rent an exchange stand in the forum, since it was now a matter of such widespread exchange of money that the State was forced to turn to private bankers to achieve its purpose. They even received compensation for their trouble when the old coinage was delivered to the State treasury.

So no one was surprised when my freedman, in order to compete with the old established bankers who in the first confusion were not entirely clear as to what was going on, promised up to five percent in additional payments at the exchange of old coins for the new. He explained to his customers that he was doing this to acquire a reputation for his business and to help those without private means.

Shoemakers, coppersmiths and stonecutters queued up in front of his table while the old bankers watched gloomily from their own empty ones. Thanks to my freedman, within a few weeks I had received full recompense for my own exchange losses, despite the fact that he himself had privately been forced to give certain sums to the Juno Moneta college of priests, owing to the suspicion that he had not accounted for all the good coinage he had received.

At this time I secretly went into my room many times, locked the door and drank from my goblet of Fortuna, for I thought I needed some good luck. I forgave my mother in my heart for her low origins, for I too was half Greek through her and this brought me luck in business. It is said that a Greek can even cheat a Jew in business, but I do not believe this myself.

But on my father’s side I am a genuine Roman, descended from the Etruscan kings, and this can be proved in Caere. So I hold honesty in business very highly. My freedman’s exchange affairs and my earlier double accounting for the menagerie concerned only the State treasury, and were acts of self-defense on the part of an honest man, struggling against tyrannical taxation. Otherwise no sound business life would be possible.

For instance, I have never allowed my freedmen to mix chalk into the flour or mountain oils into the cooking oil, as certain insolent upstarts have succeeded in doing. Besides, one can easily be crucified for doing that. I once mentioned the matter to Fenius Rufus when he was the senior supervisor for the grain stores and mills, naturally without mentioning any names. He warned me then and said that no one in his position could afford to ignore the doctoring of grain, whoever the person was. Some sea-damaged cargoes might possibly be approved by the State, if this were of help to a friend in need. But he could go no further. Sighing, he admitted that despite his high office, he had to remain rather poor.

From Fenius Rufus my thoughts go to Tigellinus. He was now being discussed unfavorably before Nero. Whispered warnings were made that Nero was risking his reputation by favoring him and associating with him, and it was pointed out that Tigellinus had grown rich much too quickly after his appointment as City Prefect. Nero’s many gifts could not explain this away, even if Nero did make a habit of making his friends so rich that they were not tempted by bribes in the offices he appointed them to. What the friendship was like, no one really knows, but I must say I do not think an Emperor ever has any real friends.

The worst accusation leveled against Tigellinus in Nero’s view was that he had once secretly been Agrippina’s lover and thus had been banished from Rome in his youth. When Agrippina became consort to Claudius, she had arranged for Tigellinus to return, as she did for Seneca, who had had an equally doubtful relationship with Agrippina’s sister. I do not really believe the relationship between Tigellinus and Agrippina continued afterwards, at least not as long as Claudius was alive, but he had always had a weakness for her, although for political reasons he had not been able to prevent murder.

For many reasons Nero decided it would be wise to reinstate Fenius Rufus as deputy Prefect of the Praetorians alongside Tigellinus. He was given the overseas cases to deal with, while Tigellinus looked after the military side. Tigellinus was understandably embittered by this, for his best source of income now ran dry. I know from my own experience that no one is ever so rich that he does not wish to see his wealth further increased. This is not nonsense, but one of the things a fortune inevitably brings with it, and something against which one is powerless.

Because of the uneasy state of financial affairs, prices continued to rise and by considerably more than the fifth by which Nero had lowered the value of money. Nero issued many edicts to try to keep prices under control and punish usurers, but the result was that the goods simply vanished from the shops. In the halls and marketplaces the people were soon unable to buy their green vegetables, meat, lentils and root vegetables, but had to go out into the country or turn to tradesmen who crept around at dusk from house to house with their baskets, defying the magistrates by selling at high prices.

There was no real shortage of things. It was just that no one wanted to sell his goods at unnaturally forced prices, but preferred to be idle or lock up their stores. If, for instance, one needed new sandals for formal occasions, or a good tunic, or even a buckle, one had to beg and plead with a merchant to bring what one was asking for out from under the counter and then break the law by paying the right price for it.

For all these reasons, the Pisonian conspiracy spread like wildfire when it became known that a few resolute men within the Order of Knights were prepared to seize power and overthrow Nero, as soon as they could decide how the power would be shared and who should replace the Emperor. The economic crisis made the conspiracy seem Rome’s only salvation and everyone rushed to join it. Even Nero’s closest friends thought it safe to give their support to it, since it seemed evident that the conspiracy would succeed as discontent was rife both in Rome and in the provinces and there was more than enough money to pay the bonuses to the Praetorians.

Fenius Rufus, who was still in charge of the grain stores in addition to holding his Prefect’s office since no other honest man could be found, unhesitatingly joined the conspiracy. Due to the artificial lowering of the price of corn, he had suffered great losses and was deeply in debt. Nero refused to consider the State’s making up the difference between the true price of grain and its forced price. Nor would the growers in Egypt and Africa sell their grain at this price, but either stored it or did not even sow their fields.

Apart from Rufus, the Praetorian tribunes and the centurions were quite openly involved in the conspiracy, the Praetorians naturally being bitter that their pay was in the new coinage and with no increase. The conspirators were so certain they would succeed that they sought to keep the whole enterprise inside Rome, save for a few strategically important Italian cities. They therefore refused help from powerful men in the provinces and in this way offended many important people.

In my view, their greatest fault lay in that they thought they did not need the support of the legions, which they could have got quite easily in Germany and Britain. Corbulo in the East would hardly have become involved in it since he was completely absorbed by his Parthian war, and was also quite without political ambitions. I think he was one of the few people who never even heard the rumors about the plan.

As I had put my affairs in order, perhaps I did not think sufficiently about the needs of the people. On my part I was seized with a kind of spring enchantment. I was thirty-five years old, past bothering with immature girls except possibly as a passing pleasure, but at an age when a man is ripe for true passion and wishes for an experienced Woman of equal birth as a companion.

I still find it difficult to write openly about these things. Perhaps it will suffice to say that, avoiding any unnecessary publicity, I began to visit Antonia’s house quite often. We had so much to talk to each other about that sometimes I could not leave her handsome house on Palatine until dawn. She was a daughter of Claudius and thus had some of Marcus Antonius’ tainted blood in her. And she was an Aelius on her mother’s side as well. Her mother was the adoptive sister of Sejanus. That should be sufficient explanation for anyone who knows.

Your mother was also Claudius’ daughter, and I must admit that after bearing you and after her former hard life, she had calmed down considerably. She no longer shared my bed. Indeed, I seemed to suffer from a kind of deficiency disease in this respect until my friendship with Antonia cured me.

It was at dawn one spring morning, when the birds had just begun to sing and the flowers were fragrant in Antonia’s beautiful garden, from which all traces of the fire had now been erased by new bushes and whole trees, that I first heard about Piso’s conspiracy from Antonia. Exhausted from the joy and friendship, I was standing hand in hand with her, leaning against one of the slender pillars in her summer house, unable to drag myself away from her, although we had begun to say farewell to each other at least two hours earlier.

“Minutus, my dearest,” she said. Perhaps I am wrong to repeat her confession word for word, but on the other hand I have written things in connection with Sabina which might make an ignoramus doubt my manhood. “Oh, my dearest,” she said then. “No man has ever been so tender and good to me and known how to take me in his arms so wonderfully as you have. So I know I shall love you now, always and eternally. I should like us to meet after death as shades in the Elysian fields.”

“Why do you talk of Elysium?” I asked, thrusting out my chest. ‘We are happy now. Indeed I am happier than I have ever been before. Don’t let us think of Charon, although I’m willing to have a gold piece put in my mouth when I die to pay him in a way which is worthy of you.”

She squeezed my hand in her slim fingers.

“Minutus,” she said, “I can no longer hide anything from you, nor do I want to. And I do not know which of us is nearer to death, you or I. Nero’s time is running out. I should not want you to fall with him.”

I was dumbfounded. Then Antonia related in swift whispers all that she knew about the conspiracy and its leaders. She admitted that she had promised, when the moment was ripe and Nero was dead, as Claudius’ daughter, to go with the new Emperor to the Praetorian camp and put in a good word for him with the veterans. Naturally a gift of money would convince them even more than a few modest words from the noblest lady in Rome.

“In fact I fear not so much for my own life as for yours, my dearest,” said Antonia. “You are known as one of Nero’s friends and you have done little to make useful connections for the future. For understandable reasons, the people will demand blood when Nero is dead. And public security will demand a certain amount of bloodshed to strengthen law and order. I shouldn’t want you to lose your dear head or a crowd to trample you to death in the forum according to the secret instructions which must be given to the people when we go to the Praetorian camp.”

When I remained dumb, my head spinning and my knees weak, Antonia grew impatient and stamped her lovely foot.

“Don’t you see?” she said. “The conspiracy is so widespread and discontent so general that the plan can be put into action any day now. Every sensible man is trying to join for his own advantage. It is sheer bluff that they are still pretending to discuss how, where and when Nero could best be murdered. That can be done anytime. Several of his best friends are with us and have taken the oath. Of your own friends I shall name only Senecio, Petronius and Lucanus. The fleet in Misenum is with us. Epicharis, whom you must know from hearsay, has seduced Volucius Proculus, just as Octavia in her time tried to seduce Anicetus.”

“I know Proculus,” I said shortly.

“Of course you do,” said Antonia with sudden insight. “He was involved in my stepmother’s murder. Don’t worry, dearest. I had no feelings for Agrippina. On the contrary, she treated me even more badly, if that is possible, than Britannicus and Octavia. It was only from a sense of propriety that I did not want to take part in the thank-offerings after her death. You mustn’t be afraid of that old story. I suggest that you join the conspiracy as soon as possible and save your life. If you delay too long, then I cannot help you.”

To tell the truth, my first thought was of course to rush straight to Nero and tell him of the danger threatening him. Then I would be certain of his favor for the rest of my life. However, Antonia was sufficiently experienced to be able to read the hesitation in my face. She stroked the tips of her fingers along my lips, and, with her head on one side and her gown slipping from her firm bosom, she spoke again.

“But you can’t betray me, Minutus, can you?” she said. “No, that would be impossible when we love each other so completely. We were born for each other, as you’ve said so often in the intoxication of the moment.”

“Of course not,” I hurried to assure her. “That would never occur to me.” She had to laugh and then shrugged her shoulders as I went on irritably: “What was that you said about bluff?”

“Don’t think I haven’t thought a great deal about the whole thing,” said Antonia. “The most important thing for me, as for the other conspirators, is not the actual murder of Nero but who shall be helped into power after his death. That’s what the conspirators are trying to settle night after night. Everyone has his own ideas on the subject.”

“Gaius Piso,” I said critically. “I don’t really understand why he of all people should be the leader. True, he is a senator and a Calpurnian and is handsome. But I don’t understand what you see in him, Antonia dear, to such an extent that you’d risk your life for a man like him to go with him to the Praetorian camp.”

To be strictly accurate, I felt a stab of jealousy deep inside me. I knew Antonia and also knew that she was not so temperate as one might believe from her posture and dignified appearance. She was considerably more experienced than I was in all things, although I thought I knew a good deal. So I watched her expression carefully. She enjoyed my jealousy, burst out laughing and gave me a light slap on the cheek.

“Oh, Minutus, what on earth are you thinking about me?” she said. “I’d never creep into the bed of a man like Piso just for my own benefit, you must know me well enough to know that. I choose for myself whom I shall love and have always done so. And it’s not Piso in particular I’ve tied myself to. He’s a kind of screen for the time being. He’s stupid enough that he doesn’t suspect that the others are already intriguing behind his back. In fact the question of the use of substituting a comedian for a cittern-player has already been put. Piso has appeared in public in the theater and thus damaged his reputation just as Nero has. There are others who want to bring the republic back again and give all the power to the Senate. That insane idea would soon throw the country into civil war. I am telling you this so that you will understand what conflicting interests are involved and why Nero’s murder must be postponed. I myself have said that nothing will persuade me to go to the Praetorians for the sake of the Senate. That would not befit the daughter of an Emperor.”

She looked at me thoughtfully and read my thoughts.

“I know what you are thinking,” she said. “But I can assure you that for political reasons it is too early even to think of your son Claudius Antonianus. He is but an infant and Claudia’s reputation is so doubtful that I do not think your son can be considered until he has the man-toga and Claudia is dead. Then it would be easier for me to acknowledge him as my nephew. But if you yourself were to find a place in Piso’s conspiracy, then you’d be able to improve your own position and create a political career for yourself to help Claudius Antonianus while he is still a minor. We’d be wisest to let Claudia live and look after the boy’s upbringing for the time being, don’t you think, my dearest? It would be much too obvious if I adopted him as soon as Nero was dead or he became my son in some other way.”

For the first time Antonia implied that despite my poor reputation and my low origins, she would be willing to marry me one day. I had not even dared think about such an honor, even in our most intimate moments. I noticed that I flushed and was even less able to speak than I had been when she had begun to talk about the conspiracy. Antonia looked at me smilingly, stood on her toes and kissed me on my lips as she let her soft silky hair brush my throat.

“I’ve told you I love you, Minutus,” she whispered in my ear. “I love you more than anything for your diffidence and the way you underestimate your own worth. You are a man, a wonderful man and the kind of man from whom a wise woman expects the highest.”

This struck me as ambiguous and not as flattering to me as Antonia perhaps thought. But it was true. Both Sabina and Claudia had treated me in such a way that I had always given way to their wills for the sake of peace. I thought Antonia conducted herself more worthily. I do not know how it came about that we once again went indoors to bid each other farewell.

It was daylight and the garden slaves were already at work when I finally staggered to my sedan, my head whirling and my knees shaking, wondering whether I could stand so much love for fifteen years until you received your man-toga.

In any case, I was now deeply involved in the Pisonian conspiracy and had sworn with a thousand kisses to do my best to acquire a position in which I could do my best for Antonia. I think I even promised to murder Nero myself if necessary. But Antonia did not think it necessary for me to risk my valuable head. She explained pedantically that it would not be suitable for a future Emperor’s father personally to take part in the murder of an Emperor. It was a bad precedent and might be fateful for you one day, my son.

I was probably happier that hot spring than I had ever been before in my life. I was well, strong, and by Roman standards relatively uncor-rupted, and I could enjoy my passion to the full. It was also as if everything I undertook succeeded and bore rich harvests, as happens only once in a man’s life. I lived in a dream and the only thing that disturbed me was Claudia’s insistent curiosity about where I was going and from where I had come. I did not like always lying to her, especially as women are often instinctively perceptive in these matters.

I got in touch with Fenius Rufus at first, for I had befriended him in connection with my grain deals. One could call our friendship a golden mutual society. Hesitantly, he revealed that he was bound to the Pisonian conspiracy and listed the names of the Praetorians, tribunes and centurions who had sworn an oath to obey him and him alone after Nero had been disposed of.

Rufus was obviously relieved to notice that I had found out about the conspiracy on my own. He apologized several times and assured me that he had been bound by his oath not to tell me before. He promised to put a word in for me with Piso and the other leaders of the conspiracy. It was not Rufus’ fault that the arrogant Piso and other Calpurnians treated me with superiority. I should have been offended had I been more sensitive.

They did not even bother about the money I offered to put at the disposal of the conspiracy, but said that they already had enough. Neither did they fear I would denounce them, so certain were they of victory. Indeed, Piso himself said in his insolent way that he knew me and my reputation sufficiently well to guess that I was going to keep quiet to save my own skin. My friendship with Petronius and young Lucanus helped a little, and I was allowed to take the oath and meet Epicharis, that secretive Roman woman whose influence and part in the conspiracy I did not then fully realize.

When I had gone so far, one day to my surprise, Claudia brought the matter up. In a roundabout and involved way she questioned me until she at least realized that I was not going to run straight to Nero to report what she had to say. She was both relieved and surprised when

I smiled pityingly and told her that I had long since taken an oath to overthrow the tyrant for the sake of the freedom of the fatherland.

“I can’t imagine why they took a man like you,” said Claudia. “They had better act quickly or their plans will be known everywhere. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard. I’d never have believed it, even of you. Are you really prepared to betray Nero just like that, when he’s done so much for you and regards you as his friend?”

Retaining my dignity, I remarked gendy that it had been Nero’s own conduct that had made me think of the common good rather than of a friendship which had injured me in many ways. Personally I had not suffered much from the monetary reforms, thanks to my own watchfulness. But the weeping of widows and orphans echoed in my ears, and when I thought of the miseries of the country people and the small craftsmen I was prepared to sacrifice my honor if necessary on the altar of the fatherland, for the good of all the Roman people.

I had kept my opinions from Claudia because I had been afraid that she would try to stop my fearlessly risking my life for freedom. Now I hoped that she would at last understand that I had kept silent about my activities to avoid dragging her into these dangerous conspiracies.

Claudia was still suspicious, for she knew me well. But she had to admit I had done the right thing. After hesitating for a long time, she herself had thought of persuading me, if necessary even of forcing me, to join the conspiracy for the sake of my own and your future.

“You must have noticed that I have not bothered you with the Christians for a long time,” said Claudia. “There is no longer any reason why they should be allowed to meet secretly in our house. They have their own safe places, so it is not necessary to expose my son Clement to that danger, even if I myself am not afraid to admit I am a Christian. And the Christians have shown themselves to be weak and indecisive. To get rid of Nero would be to their advantage and would at the same time be a kind of Christian vengeance for his evil deeds. But just imagine, they won’t have anything to do with the conspiracy, although it looks as if it could not fail. I don’t understand them any longer. They just say one must not kill and that revenge is not theirs.”

“Good god of Hercules,” I said in astonishment. “Are you mad? Only a woman would take it into her head to involve the Christians in something in which there are already too many contributors. No one would want them in anyhow, I can assure you. That would force the new Emperor to promise them privileges beforehand. The independent position of the Jews is more than enough already.”

“One can always ask,” snapped Claudia. “It would do no harm. But they say that they have never become involved in politics before and are thinking of obeying the legal ruler in the future, whoever he is. They have their own kingdom which will come, but I’m beginning to tire of waiting for it. As a daughter of Claudius and the mother of my son, I must think a little about the earthly powers too. I think Cephas is cowardly, always going on about obedience and keeping out of State affairs. The invisible kingdom is a fine and good thing. But since becoming a mother, I have become remote from it and feel more like a Roman than a Christian. These confusing circumstances offer us the best possible chance to change the world, now that everyone wants nothing but peace and order.”

“What do you mean by changing the world?” I asked distrustfully. “Are you bravely prepared to hurl thousands, perhaps millions of people into starvation, misery and violent death just to create a favorable political climate for your son until he receives his toga?”

“The republic and freedom are values for which many brave men have been prepared to sacrifice their lives,” said Claudia. “My father Claudius often spoke with great respect of the republic and had been prepared to bring it back if only it had been possible. He said so many a time in his long speeches in the Curia when he complained of the heavy burden of an absolute ruler.”

“You yourself have many a time said that your father was a crazy, unjust and cruel old man,” I said angrily. “Remember the first time we met, when you spat on his statue in the library? To reinstate the republic is an impossible idea. It hasn’t enough support. The question is only who shall be Emperor. Piso thinks I’m much too insignificant and no doubt you think so too. Whom had you thought of?”

Claudia stared thoughtfully at me.

“What do you say to Seneca?” she said, with feigned innocence.

At first the idea dumbfounded me.

“What good would it do to exchange a cittern-player for a philosopher?” I asked. But when I thought about it further, I realized that it was a clever suggestion. Both the people and the provinces agreed that Nero’s first five years, when Seneca had ruled, were the happiest Rome had ever known. It still stands out as a golden time, now when we have to pay taxes even to sit in public privies.

Seneca was immensely rich-three hundred million sesterces was most people’s guess. I thought I knew better. And best of all, Seneca was already sixty years old. Thanks to his Stoic way of life, he would easily live for another fifteen years. Even if he did live out in the country, keeping away from the Senate for health reasons and but seldom visiting the city, all this was nothing but a pretext to calm Nero.

In fact the diet he had had to keep to because of his stomach complaint had done him good. He had grown thinner and become more energetic, no longer panting as he walked, nor did he have those fat pendulous cheeks, so unsuited to a philosopher, any longer. He might rule well, persecuting no one, and as an experienced businessman could put Rome’s economic life back on its feet and fill the State treasury instead of wasting it. When his time came, he might even voluntarily hand over power to some youth who had been brought up in his own spirit.

Seneca’s mild disposition and love of mankind did not differ greatly from the Christian teaching. In a work on natural history he had just completed, he had implied that there are secret forces hidden in nature and the universe which are above human understanding so that the lasting and the visible are really like a thin veil hiding something invisible.

When I had got so far with my thoughts, I suddenly clapped my hands together in surprise.

“Claudia!” I cried. “You’re a political genius and I apologize for my unpleasant words.”

Naturally I did not tell her that by suggesting Seneca and then supporting him, I could then acquire the key position I needed in the conspiracy. Later I could be sure of Seneca’s gratitude and I was in some ways one of his old pupils, and also in Corinth I had been tribune under his brother and enjoyed his complete confidence in secret affairs of State. Seneca’s cousin, young Lucan, had been one of my best friends ever since I had praised his poems. I am no poet myself.

We talked about this together in the greatest harmony, Claudia and I. We both found more and more good points to our case and became more and more delighted with it as we drank some wine together. Claudia fetched the wine quite of her own accord and did not reprove me for drinking deeply in my excitement. Finally we went to bed and for the first time in a long while I fulfilled my marital duties toward her, to calm finally any suspicions she might have.

When I awoke later at her side, my head hot with enthusiasm and wine, I thought almost with sorrow how I should one day have to free myself of your mother for your sake. An ordinary divorce would not do for Antonia. Claudia would have to die. But there were ten or fifteen years until then, and much could happen. Many spring floods would flow beneath the bridges of the Tiber, I said to myself consolingly. There were epidemics, plagues, unexpected accidents and above all the Parcae guiding the fates of mankind. I had no need to grieve beforehand for the inevitable and how it would happen.

Claudia’s plan was so self-evident and excellent that I did not consider it necessary to tell Antonia about it. We were forced to meet seldom and in secret so that there would be no malicious talk which might arouse the suspicions of Nero who, of course, had to keep an eye on Antonia.

I went to see Seneca at once on the pretext that I had business to see to in Praeneste and was simply making a courtesy visit on my way. For safety’s sake I arranged to have something to do in Praeneste.

Seneca received me in a most friendly manner. I could see he was living a luxurious and comfortable life in the country with his wife, who was half his age. At first he muttered about the pains of old age and so on, but when he realized I really had an errand to carry out, the old fox took me to a distant summerhouse where he retreated from the world to dictate his books to a scribe and to lead the life of an ascetic.

As evidence of this and of other things too, he showed me a stream from which he could scoop running drinking water with his cupped hand, and some fruit trees from which he could choose what he ate, and he also told me how his wife Paulina had learned to grind their corn with a handmill and make his bread herself. I recognized these signs and realized he lived in constant fear of being poisoned. In his need for money, Nero might be tempted by his old tutor’s property and even find it politically necessary to rid himself of him. Seneca still had many friends who respected him as a philosopher and a statesman, but for safety’s sake he seldom received guests.

I came straight to the point and asked whether Seneca would be willing to receive the Imperial office after Nero and bring peace and order back to the country. He need not be involved in Nero’s death. All he need do was be present in the city on a certain day, prepared to go to the Praetorians with his money bags ready. I had reckoned that thirty million sesterces would be enough, if every man, for instance, received two thousand and tribunes and centurions in equivalent grades more according to rank and position.

Fenius Rufus did not want any payment. All he asked was that the State should compensate him later for the losses he had suffered in the grain trade through Nero’s caprices. In that case, it would be enough that his debts were paid within a reasonable time. I hurriedly added that I should be prepared to raise some of the money if Seneca did not wish to provide the entire sum for financial reasons.

Seneca straightened up and looked at me with frighteningly cold eyes containing not an iota of love of mankind.

“I know you inside out, Minutus,” he said. “So my first thought was that Nero had sent you here to test my loyalty in some cunning manner, since you are the most suitable of all his friends for that purpose. But you obviously know much too much about the conspiracy since you can repeat so many names. If you were an informer, then several heads would already have rolled. I am not asking you for your motives, but only who has given you the authority to turn to me.”

I told him that no one had done so. Indeed, this was completely my own idea, for I regarded him as the best and noblest man to rule over Rome and thought I could find widespread support for him among the conspirators if I received his approval to it. Seneca calmed down a little.

“Don’t think you are the first to turn to me in this matter,” he said. “Piso’s nearest man, Antonius Natalis, whom you know, was here quite recently to inquire after my poor health and why I refused so definitely to receive Piso and deal with him openly. But I have no reason to support a man like Piso. So I replied that middlemen are evil and personal contact less suitable, but that my own life after this would be dependent on Piso’s safety. And so it is. If the conspiracy is exposed, from which may the inexplicable God protect us all, then a careless visit to me would alone be enough to doom me to destruction.

“The murder of Nero is more than just contemplated,” he went on thoughtfully. “Piso would find his best opportunity at his villa in Baiae. Nero often visits it without a guard, to bathe and amuse himself. But Piso says hypocritically that he cannot violate the sanctity of a meal and the rules of hospitality by murdering a guest, as if a man like Piso ever worshiped any gods. In fact Nero’s murder would give offense in many quarters. Lucius Silanus, for instance, has wisely refused to approve such a fearful crime as murdering the Emperor. Piso himself has passed over Consul Atticus Vestinus because Vestinus is an industrious man who might really try to reinstate the republic. As Consul he would have good opportunities to take over power after a murder.”

I realized that Seneca knew more about the conspiracy than I did, and that as an experienced statesman he had carefully weighed the situation. So I apologized to him for having disturbed him, however well-meaningly, and I assured him that in any case he need not worry where I was concerned. I had business to do in Praeneste and it was only natural for an old pupil to make a diversion to inquire after his former tutor’s health.

I was given the impression that Seneca was not pleased when I referred to myself as a former pupil. But he looked at me with compassion when he spoke again.

“I shall say to you,” he said, “the same as I tried to teach Nero. One can hide one’s real characteristics for a while with dissimulation and servility. But in the end the act is always exposed and the sheepskin falls from the wolf. Nero has wolf blood in his veins, however much of an actor he is. So have you, Minutus, but of a more cowardly wolf.”

I did not know whether to feel proud or offended by his words. I asked in passing whether he believed that Antonia was involved in the conspiracy and was supporting Piso. Seneca shook his rumpled head warningly.

“If I were you,” he said, “I should never trust Aelia Antonia in anything. The name alone is frightening. In her is united the tainted blood of two ancient and dangerous families. I know things about her youth of which I do not wish to speak. I am simply warning you. In the name of all the gods, don’t let her join the conspiracy. You are mad if you do. She is more ambitious for power than Agrippina, who did have her good sides despite what she did.”

Seneca’s warning struck me, but I was dazzled by love and thought he was speaking from envy. A statesman who has been prematurely thrust to one side is usually bitter toward everyone. As a philosopher too, Seneca might be considered a disappointed man. In his heyday he had not been at all as prominent as he had led people to believe. I thought he was the right man to talk of dissimulation, for he himself was master of this.

As we parted, Seneca admitted that he did not believe his chances were great if a coup came about, but he was prepared to arrive in Rome on a certain day to be present and if necessary give his support to Piso, for he was sure that Piso in his vanity and extravagance would soon make things impossible. Perhaps then the time would be favorable for Seneca.

“I live in daily danger of my life anyhow,” he said with a bitter smile, “so have nothing to lose by showing myself. If Piso gains power, then I’ve shown my support for him. If the conspiracy is exposed, a frightening prospect, then I shall die all the same. But the wise man does not fear death. It is the debt which mankind has to pay some day. It is not very important whether it happens now or later.”

For me this was what was important. So I went to Praeneste in a downhearted mood, pondering his ill-omened words. I thought I had better take some precautions in case the conspiracy was exposed. A wise man does not put all his eggs in one basket.

I still think that the rebellion should have been started in the provinces with the support of the legions, and not in Rome. It would of course have led to bloodshed, but that is what soldiers are paid for, and in Rome no one would have been in any danger. But vanity, selfishness and ambition are always stronger than good sense.

The landslide began in Misenum. Proculus did not seem to have been sufficiently rewarded for his services in connection with the murder of Agrippina. In fact he was incompetent as a fleet commantler as well, however little this demands of a man. Anicetus was only an ex-hairdresser but he still managed to keep the fleet seaworthy with the help of his experienced captains.

Proculus relied on his own judgment and, against all good advice, sent the fleet to sea. About a score of ships were driven onto the rocks at a point near Misenum and were sunk with all hands. Crews can always be replaced but warships are extremely expensive toys.

Nero was understandably furious, although Proculus could point to his orders. Nero asked whether Proculus was prepared to jump in the sea on his orders, and Proculus admitted that he would be forced to weigh such an order, for he could not swim. Nero remarked bitingly that it would be best if he weighed other orders in the same way, for nature’s orders at sea were better even than Nero’s. Nero could easily find another commantler, but to build twenty new warships would be too expensive. He would postpone the matter until after the completion of the Golden Palace.

This naturally offended Proculus deeply so that he fell for Epicharis’ enchantments. Epicharis was a very beautiful woman and well schooled in the art of love. As far as I know she had practiced no other art before she was brought into the conspiracy. Many people were surprised at her unexpected political enthusiasm when she bitingly exhorted the conspirators to act swiftly.

But I think that Nero had once offended Epicharis when he had wished to try her skill and afterwards had in his thoughtless way disparaged it. This Epicharis could not forgive and she had been brooding on her revenge ever since.

Epicharis grew tired of all the excuses for delaying matters in Rome and demantled that Proculus should mobilize his ships and sail to Ostia. Proculus had a better idea. Epicharis, a careful woman, had not told him the names of all the conspirators so that he did not know how widespread the conspiracy was. So he chose between the certain and the uncertain when he thought the first informer would be the best rewarded.

He hurried to Nero in Rome to tell him what he knew. Nero, in his vanity and conviction of his own popularity, did not at first take much notice, especially as the information was indefinite. Naturally he had Epicharis arrested and handed over to Tigellinus to be questioned under torture. This was an art of which Tigellinus was a complete master when it came to a beautiful woman. Since he had become bisexual he had borne a grudge against women and enjoyed seeing them tortured.

But Epicharis held out, denying everything and maintaining that Proculus was talking nothing but nonsense. And she told the Praetorians so much about Tigellinus’ unnatural leanings that Tigellinus lost interest in the interrogation and let the matter drop. But Epicharis had been so ill-treated by then, she could no longer walk.

The conspirators moved quickly when they heard that Epicharis had been arrested. The whole city was terror-stricken, for a large number of people were involved and feared for their lives. A centurion who had been bribed by Piso tried to murder Epicharis in the prison, for the conspirators did not trust a woman to hold her tongue. The prison guards stopped him, for Epicharis had roused considerable sympathy among the Praetorians with her extraordinary stories of Tigellinus’ private life.

The April feast of Ceres was to be celebrated the following day and races were to be held in the half-finished circus in honor of the Earth Goddess. The conspirators thought that that was the best place to set their plan into action. Nero had so much room to move about in the Golden Palace with its huge gardens, that he no longer showed himself about the city.

It was hurriedly decided that the conspirators should place themselves as near Nero as possible at the great circus. Lateranus, a fearless giant of a man, would at a suitable moment throw himself at Nero’s feet as if to ask a favor, and thus pull him down. When Nero was on the ground, the tribunes and centurions among the conspirators and any others who were courageous enough were to pretend to hurry to his assistance and then stab him to death.

Flavius Scevinus asked to be allowed to give Nero the first blow. For him, related as he was to the City Prefect, my ex-father-in-law, it was easy to get close to Nero. He was considered so effeminate and profligate that not even Nero would think ill of him. In fact he was a little mad and often suffered from hallucinations. I do not wish to speak ill of the Flavians here, but Flavius Scevinus thought that he had found one of Fortuna’s own daggers in some ancient temple, and he always carried it on him. His visions told him that the dagger was a sign that he had been selected for great deeds. He had no doubt whatsoever of his good fortune when he volunteered to give the first stab.

Piso was to wait by the Ceres temple. Fenius Rufus and other conspirators would fetch him from there and go with him to the Praetorians together with Antonia. Not even Tigellinus was expected to offer resistance if Nero were dead, for he was a wise and farsighted man. The conspirators had in fact decided to execute him as soon as they had seized power to please the people, but then Tigellinus could not know that beforehand.

The plan had been skillfully laid and was a good one in every way. Its only failing was that it went awry.