Darkness and Dawn; Or, Scenes in the Days of Nero. An Historic Tale
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CHAPTER II
_AGRIPPINA AND NERO_
‘Occidat dum imperet.’--TAC. _Ann._ xiv. 9.
A voice was heard in the corridor, the curtain was drawn aside, and ayouth of sixteen, but who had nearly completed his seventeenth year,entered the room.
He was still in the bloom of his youthful beauty. His face wasstamped with all the nobility of the Domitian race from whichhe sprang. It had not as yet a trace of that ferocity engenderedin later years from an immense vanity clouded by a dim sense ofmediocrity. It was perfectly smooth, and there was nothing to givepromise of the famous brazen beards of his ancestors, unless it werethe light hair, with its slight tinge of red, which was so greatlyadmired in antiquity, and which looked golden when it caught thesunlight. Round the forehead it was brushed back, but it coveredhis head with a mass of short and shining curls, and grew low downover the white neck. His face had not yet lost the rose of youth,though its softness spoke of a luxurious life. The eyes were of lightgrey, and the expression was not ungenial, though, owing to his shortsight, his forehead often wore the appearance of a slight frown. Hewas of middle height, and of those fine proportions which made hisflatterers compare him to the youthful God of Song.
‘Nero!’ exclaimed his mother: ‘I thought you were still in thebanquet hall. If the Emperor awakes he may notice your absence.’
‘There is little fear of that,’ said Nero, laughing. ‘I left theEmperor snoring on his couch, and the other guests decorously tryingto suppress the most portentous yawns. They, poor wretches, will haveto stay on till midnight or later, unless Narcissus sets them freefrom the edifying spectacle of a semi-divinity quite intoxicated.’
‘Hush!’ said Agrippina, severely. ‘This levity is boyish andill-timed. Jest at what you like, but never at the majesty of theImperial power--not even in private, not even to me. And rememberthat palace walls have ears. Did you leave Octavia at the table?’
‘I did.’
‘Imprudent!’ said his mother. ‘You know what pains I have takento keep her from seeing too much of her father except when we arepresent. Claudius sometimes sleeps off the fumes of wine, and aftera doze he can talk as sensibly as he ever does. Was Britannicus inthe Hall?’
‘Britannicus?’ said Nero. ‘Of course not. You have taken painsenough, mother, to keep _him_ in the background. According to theantique fashion which the Emperor has revived of late, you saw himat the banquet, sitting at the end of the seat behind his father. Butthe boys have been dismissed with their pedagogues long ago, and, forall I know, Britannicus has been sent to bed.’
‘And for whose sake do I take these precautions?’ asked the Empress.‘Is it not for your sake, ungrateful? Is it not that you may wear thepurple, and tower over the world as the Imperator Romanus?’
‘For my sake,’ thought Nero, ‘and for her own sake, too.’ But hesaid nothing; and as he had not attained to the art of disguising histhoughts from that keenest of observers, he bent down, to conceal asmile, and kissed his mother’s cheek, with the murmured words, ‘Bestof mothers!’
‘Best of mothers! Yes; but for how long?’ said Agrippina. ‘Whenonce I have seated you on the throne--’ She broke off her sentence.She had never dared to tell her son the fearful augury which theChaldeans had uttered of him: ‘He shall be Emperor, and shall killhis mother.’ He had never dreamed that she had returned the answer:‘Let him slay me, so he be Emperor.’
‘_Optima mater_, now and always,’ he replied. ‘But I am angry withBritannicus--_very_ angry!’ and he stamped his foot.
‘Why? The boy is harmless enough. I thought you had him completelyunder your power. You seem to be very good friends, and I have seenyou sitting together, and training your magpies and jays to talk,quite amicably. Nay, though Britannicus hates me, I almost won hisheart--for two minutes--by promising to give him my talking-thrush,which eyes us so curiously from its cage.’[3]
‘Give it to me, mother,’ said Nero. ‘A thrush that can talk as yourscan is the greatest rarity in the world, and worth ten times over itsweight in gold.’
‘No, Nero; Britannicus shall have it. I like to see him devotinghimself to such trifles. I have other views for you. But what hasthe poor boy done to offend you?’
‘I met him in the Gelotian House,’ said Nero, ‘and how do you thinkhe dared to address me? _Me_--by sacred adoption the son of Claudius,and, therefore, his elder brother?’
‘How?’
‘I said to him, quite civilly, “Good morning, Britannicus.” Hehad actually the audacity to reply, “Good morning, _Ahenobarbus_!”Ahenobarbus, indeed! I hate the name. I stand nearer to the divineAugustus than he does.[4] What did he mean by it?’
Agrippina broke into a ripple of laughter. ‘The poor harmless lad!’she said. ‘It merely was because his wits were wool-gathering, as hisfather’s always are. No doubt he dislikes you--he has good reason todo so; but he meant nothing by it.’
‘I doubt that,’ answered the youth. ‘I suspect that he was promptedto insult me by Narcissus, or Pudens, or the knight Julius Densus orsome of the people who are still about him.’
‘Ah!’ said Agrippina, thoughtfully, ‘Narcissus is our most dangerousenemy. He is much too proud of his ivory rod and prætor’s insignia.But he is not unassailable. The Emperor was not pleased with thefailure of the canal for draining Lake Fucinus, and perhaps I canget Domitius Afer or some one else, to accuse him of embezzling thefunds. How else could he have amassed 400,000,000 sesterces? He hasthe gout very badly, and I will persuade him that it is necessary forhim to go to Campania for the benefit of his health. When once he isout of the way--. But, Nero, I am expecting a visit from Pallas, withwhom I have much important business. Go back to the hall, my boy,and keep your eyes open always as to what is going on.’
‘I will go back,’ said Nero; ‘but, mother, I sometimes wish that allthis was over. I wish I had not been forced to marry Octavia. I shallnever like her. I should like to have--’
He stopped, and blushed crimson, for his mother’s eagle eye wasupon him, and he had almost let out the secret of his sudden andpassionate love for Acte, the beautiful freedwoman of his wife.
‘Well?’ said Agrippina suspiciously, but not ill-pleased to see howher son quailed before her imperious glance. ‘Go on.’
‘I meant nothing particular,’ he stammered, his cheek still dyedwith its deep blush, ‘but that I sometimes wish I were not goingto be Emperor at all. Julius was murdered. Augustus, they say, waspoisoned. Tiberius was suffocated. My uncle Gaius was stabbed withmany wounds. The life is not a happy one, and the dagger-stab toooften finds its way through the purple.’
‘Degenerate boy!’ said Agrippina; ‘I do not wonder that you blush. Isit such a nothing to be a Lord of the World? Have you forgotten thatyou are a grandson of Germanicus, and that the blood of the Cæsars aswell as of the Domitii flows in your veins? One would think you wereas ordinary a boy as Britannicus. For shame!’
‘Well, well, mother,’ he said, ‘you always get your own way withevery one. Pallas is in the anteroom, and I must go.’
Nero kissed her, and took his leave. Immediately afterwards theslave announced that Pallas was awaiting the pleasure of the Empress.