The Burning of Rome Part 8

"Bid our hostess send for a litter," said Pomponia. "We will go without delay to the palace."

An hour afterwards as Nero sat in council with Poppaea and Tigellinus a freedman announced that the Lady Pomponia, together with Claudia, daughter of Cogidumnus, King of the Regni in Britain, were below, and awaited the Emperor's pleasure.

Poppaea's eyes gleamed with a sinister joy.

On the other hand, neither Nero nor his Minister were particularly pleased. Tigellinus' spies and agents, of whom he had a vast number in Rome, had reported to him that popular sympathy was now turning in favour of the sufferers. Had they been the worst of criminals, the ferocity of the punishments inflicted on them would have roused a feeling of pity; and it was doubtful whether they were criminals at all. Of course the free-spoken comments [218] of the Praetorians at what had happened were not unknown to him. If this had been the case in the case of obscure and insignificant persons, what would happen when the victim was a high-born and distinguished lady.

"How is it your pleasure to deal with them, Sire?" asked Tigellinus after a short pause.

"Let them be sent to the Tullianum," cried Poppaea, carried by her spite out of her usual prudence.

Nero turned upon them with an angry scowl.

"Peace, woman," he shouted in a voice of thunder. "You know not what you say. These ladies are ten times better born than you."

The Empress, furious as she was at the rebuff, choked down her rage, and murmured, "As you will, Sire."

"Let them be handed over to the keeping of Latera.n.u.s till it be convenient to hear their case," was the Emperor's decision.

"The Emperor remembers," said Tigellinus, "that Latera.n.u.s is the nephew of the Lady Pomponia."

"I know it," answered the Emperor. "It will serve well enough. She will be honourably kept and safely. That is enough. See that the necessary orders be given. Pardon me, my dearest," he went on, turning to Poppaea. "I would not willingly thwart you in anything, but there are reasons, which I am sure you will see, if you give yourself time to [219] think. I will not ask you," he added with a bitter smile, "to be lenient to these prisoners because they are women. That, I have found out, is scarcely a pa.s.sport to a woman's favour. But you must remember that Pomponia is the widow of a great general, whose name is still remembered among the soldiers, while her companion is the daughter of a King. You cannot deal with such as if they were the wife and daughter of a freedman."

"You know best, Sire," said the Empress in a voice from which she vainly endeavoured to banish all traces of sulkiness.

"Thanks, my Poppaea," replied Nero; "we shall doubtless agree. And now to more serious business. This is the first draft of what I propose to recite at the games."

Four years before Nero had inst.i.tuted what was to be a Roman rival to the Olympian games. The second celebration was at hand, and he had been preparing a poem on the Deification of Romulus, which he proposed to recite in public. It was this that he now submitted to the criticism of his privy council.

EPICHARIS ACTS.

[220] THE conspirators had not been indifferent spectators of the events recorded in the preceding chapters. Everything combined to raise their hopes. The Emperor seemed to be madly rus.h.i.+ng on to his own ruin. The monstrous freak, which common report more and more confidently attributed to him, of burning his own capital, the revolting cruelty with which he had sought to divert suspicion from himself to a set of poor creatures, who, at the worst, were harmless fanatics, the unseemly buffoonery by which he lowered his Imperial dignity, were all helping, they thought, to overthrow the throne. Every day appeared to be giving to their schemes a more certain prospect of success. As long as this was so, it naturally seemed a mistake to hurry on their execution. Give the wretch time enough, so they said to each other, and he will destroy himself; he will not have a single friend left among n.o.bles, people, or army.

There were some, the Tribune Subrius among them, who chafed angrily at this delay. He never could rid himself of the idea that he had already missed a great chance, when he abandoned his plan [221] of striking down Nero in his private theatre, and he strongly protested against losing more time. Conspiracies that are long in hatching were, he knew, infallibly betrayed either by treachery or by chance. "There are too many of us," he said to one of his military confederates; "we are too powerful; had we been only a few desperate fellows with nothing to lose, it would have been settled, and probably settled in the right way, long ago.

In this impatient mood Epichris found him a few days after that on which Fannius had breathed his last. In the morning he had been present at a meeting of the conspirators, and had again urged on them the necessity of speedy action. Pudens, who had been formally enrolled among the a.s.sociates, as heartily supported him. He agreed with him in theory, and he found additional reason in the imminent danger of Claudia, of which he had by this time become aware. Their arguments were in vain; the majority overbore them.

The two friends, as they discussed the question in Subrius' quarters, became more and more convinced that in one way or another a crisis must be precipitated.

"These men," said Subrius to his companion, "are thinking of something else besides the one thing needful, which is to get rid of the tyrant. Laternus, for instance, is thinking about his own life; Piso is thinking about his own chances of the Empire. Now [222] a man ought to care for nothing but how he may drive home his blow."

"Right!" cried Pudens. "Why should we not act for ourselves? Let us give them another seven days, and then cast lots who shall strike, you or I."

"Agreed!" said Subrius, stretching out his hand.

Just as he spoke, a soldier servant knocked at the door of the room, and, bidden to enter, announced that a young man wished to speak with the Tribune.

"Show him in," said the Praetorian, and the visitor was ushered into the room.

The newcomer wore the heavy hood which the Romans commonly used for purposes of disguise. Its depths hid the features of the face more effectually, as the wearer carefully took a place where the light fell from behind.

"Do I speak to Subrius the Praetorian?" said the visitor.

"That is my name," replied the soldier.

"And this?" the speaker went on, indicating Pudens with a slight wave of the hand.

"My friend, Marcus Annius Pudens, from whom I have no secrets."

"Then I may speak freely?"

"Certainly."

Throwing back the hood, the visitor revealed the features of Epicharis.

Pudens had never seen her before, but Subrius immediately remembered the features of the girl whom [223] he had seen speaking to Fannius in the school of Thraso.

The name of the ex-gladiator, whom, indeed, he had missed for some days, without knowing anything of his fate, naturally rose to his lips.

"And Fannius?" he said. "How does he fare?"

"I have now another besides Octavia to avenge," answered the girl in a low voice.

"What?" cried the Praetorian. "Hath any evil overtaken him?"

Epicharis told him the story that we know. When she had finished she went on: "Fannius told me-it was when we were newly betrothed,"-the girl's voice broke for a moment as she uttered the word, but was firm again the next moment,-"that there were some who were minded not to suffer the wrongs which Rome has suffered to go unpunished any longer. He gave me no names; I asked him for none, though I think I can keep a secret. But ever since I first knew him he used to speak of you; and to you, accordingly, I have come. Let me speak plainly. If you have in your mind the purpose that I suppose you to have, let me help you. I have now only one thing to live for, to punish the monster who first killed my mistress, and then did to death my lover. If you have no such thoughts, if you think me a criminal for cheris.h.i.+ng them, then give me up to Nero. I shall be content, for I have no more desire to live."

[224] The situation in which Subrius found himself was perplexing in the extreme. That the woman was in earnest he did not doubt for a moment. He had heard, we know, her story from Fannius, and had been greatly impressed by it. And now her look, her words, carried with them an irresistible conviction of her earnestness; but he hesitated. The lives and fortunes of others besides himself were at stake. To confide in a woman was certainly a novel experiment, and at first sight at least dangerous. If failure was the result, how overpowering the shame and the disgrace of having made it. After a hurried review of the circ.u.mstances he resolved to temporize. Probably he was wrong. Everything did go wrong in this unlucky undertaking. But almost every one, viewing the circ.u.mstances as he viewed them, would have said that he was right.

"Lady," he began, "I will be as frank with you as you have been with me. If you have put your life in my hands, so will I put mine in yours. I do not deny that I and my friends have had the purposes of which you speak, yes, and have them still. But these things are not done in a hurry; we must watch our time, our opportunity; when that comes we shall not be wanting, nor shall we fail, if we need your help, to ask for it. Till then we must be patient and silent."

Epicharis was bitterly disappointed at this procrastinating answer. She was not in a mood to wait and be patient. Action, immediate action, was an im- [225] perative necessity. She rose to go, wrapping the hood again round her face.

"I am only a woman," she said, "and know less and can do less than you; yet I think that you are wrong. You say that these things cannot be done in a hurry; it seems to me that they must be so done, if they are to be done at all."

The next moment she was gone.

"By all the G.o.ds in heaven, she is right!" cried Subrius to Pudens when they found themselves alone. "I wish that I could have trusted her. But it was impossible. If any mishap were to come of it, what would not the others have said-'wheedled out of his senses by a woman,' and all the rest of it. It would be intolerable. And yet, I have a feeling that it would have been better."

Better it would certainly have been.

Epicharis, as has been said, was not content to wait. If Subrius would not help her, where, she asked herself, could she find some one who would? In a moment, for she was in that condition of exaltation and excitement when ideas have a rapid birth, a daring scheme presented itself to her mind. Nowhere was Nero more easily approached than when he was at one of his favourite seaside haunts. There he was accustomed to dispense with the etiquette and ceremony which surrounded him at Rome. His bodyguard, whom he always regarded more as a part of Imperial state than as a necessary protection, [226] was often dismissed. He would spend many hours with not more than one or two companions, either wandering on the sh.o.r.e, or rowing in a boat, or fis.h.i.+ng from the rocks. What could be easier, she thought, if only she could find an accomplice, to surprise him in one of those unguarded moments?

Resolving to seek such an accomplice herself, the first necessity that she perceived was of an effectual disguise. The man's dress which she had a.s.sumed in order to find her way to the quarters of Subrius had served its purpose well enough on that occasion. But it would not now suffice, and she accordingly resolved to a.s.sume the character of a singing-girl. This she could do with great ease; she had a particularly sweet voice, and could sing and play with more than usual skill. A further disguise was secured by wearing Syrian dress and ornaments, and by adding a deeper brown to her complexion. Another device, which she felt might be useful in carrying out her scheme, was to pretend ignorance of any language but Greek, except so far as the use of a few words of broken Latin might go.

EPICHARIS.

Thus apparelled and equipped, she made her way down to Misenum, where a squadron of the fleet was stationed. She began by singing outside the wine shops to which the sailors were accustomed to resort, and speedily achieved a great success. Her reputation as an accomplished performer spread among the higher circles, and it was not long before she was en- [227] gaged to perform at a banquet given by one of the captains to his colleagues. Other similar invitations followed. As the guests spoke freely before her, presuming on her supposed ignorance of Latin, while she always kept her ears open, and listened with an eager attention which suffered nothing to escape her, she soon learnt much about the characters and tempers of the officers in command.

One of these men, Proculus by name, she recognized as an old acquaintance. He had once been in command of the yacht which belonged to Agrippina, the Emperor's mother. It was one of the very few pleasures of Octavia's unhappy life to join her mother-in-law in occasional excursions round the Campanian coast. At these times Epicharis had often been in waiting, and Proculus had regarded her with much admiration. She gathered now from words that he let drop in her hearing, and from what was said by others, that he was in a dissatisfied frame of mind. He was accustomed to talk vaguely of great services which he had rendered to the Emperor, and which had received a very inadequate reward. This seemed to promise some sort of an opening, and she resolved, in default of anything better, to avail herself of it. It is true that she did not like or trust the man. In old times he had not been a favourite; his openly expressed admiration had, on the contrary, been extremely offensive to her. But she was almost in despair. She had not found in the fleet any of the [228] explosive material, so to speak, which she had hoped to discover there. Nero seemed to be highly popular. He mixed freely with the sailors, treated them in a friendly fas.h.i.+on, and was liberal in his presents. Still, for her present purpose, one such adherent as Proculus would suffice. Carried out of herself by her eagerness for revenge, with her mind, in fact, thrown off its balance by this excitement, she resolved to make the trial.

One day, in the course of an entertainment, Proculus had paid her some compliment on her musical skill and gone on to express his admiration for her beauty. Crus.h.i.+ng down disgust at his advances, for the man was personally odious to her, Epicharis gave an answer that encouraged further conversation, and induced him, with no little skill, to speak of himself, his disappointments, and his claims. Artfully expressing a sympathetic surprise that he had not reached a position more commensurate with his merits, of which he had indeed an unbounded opinion, she led him on to use language which certainly had an almost treasonable sound. As a matter of fact, this talk was mere bl.u.s.ter. He would not have used it to any one who would, he thought, have taken it seriously. But this was exactly what Epicharis did. When she judged that he had to a certain extent committed himself, she revealed her ident.i.ty. The man, though somewhat confused with the wine which he had been drinking, at once perceived that there was something [229] serious in the affair. Epicharis he had almost forgotten, but he was perfectly well aware that Octavia had left devoted friends behind her. He listened with attention when she began to hint at the scheme which was in her mind. She would tell him no names, but she gave him to understand that there were powerful people behind her, people who would be able and willing to remunerate him handsomely for any service that he might render. Only, she was careful to impress upon him, he must lose no time; he must not let any one else antic.i.p.ate him.

For a time the man wavered. It might be worth his while, he thought, to make the venture. It might be possible to secure a position really worth having under a new order of things. He was ambitious, so far as a greedy, pleasure-loving temper could make him so, and for a few moments he seemed to see within his reach great power and wealth, and all the opportunities of pleasure which these two things command. And though he was a dull, brutal, utterly selfish creature, the enthusiasm of Epicharis, backed as it was by the charm of her beauty, touched his fancy if not his heart.

But when the magic of her presence was removed, he began to see impossibilities in the way which had not occurred to him before. In fact, the man's past was such that if Epicharis had but known it, he would have been the very last person in the world in whom she would have confided. The services [230] which he had rendered to Nero, and for which he conceived himself to have been insufficiently paid, were such as to put an absolutely impa.s.sable gulf between him and the revolutionists. He had been Nero's tool in the perpetration of the very worst of his crimes, the murder of his mother. It was he who had been in command of the yacht in which she nearly met with her death. He was actually present and a.s.sisting when the hideous deed was finally accomplished. Nero might not be duly grateful for such services, but from any one else they would meet with no other reward than the halter or the axe. When Nero had received his due, then those who had helped to rid him of his mother and his wife would not be long in meeting with theirs. Epicharis' schemes, therefore, had, when he came to examine them, nothing attractive about them. Still, as he soon began to reflect, they might be made to yield a profit. Why not use them to put Nero under a second obligation? Why not give information of them, and pose as the saviour of the Emperor's life?

This last purpose was almost immediately carried out. Before the next day had dawned Proculus was at Antium, where Nero was then residing, and in the course of a few hours Tigellinus was in possession of all that he had to communicate. The Minister acted promptly. Epicharis, who had been eagerly waiting for some communication from Proculus, was arrested in her lodging by a Centurion, conveyed in a litter to [231] the Emperor's villa at Antium, and almost immediately after confronted with her accuser.

She did not lose her self-possession and presence of mind for a moment. Proculus told his story, not, of course, without exaggeration, and the addition of details which made it more picturesque and effective. She met it with a flat denial. He had no witnesses to produce; and for the present, at least, her word was as good as his.

As for herself, she made no attempt at concealment. She had been a waiting woman of the Empress, and she had loved her mistress.

Questioned as to the reason why she had disguised herself as a singing-girl, she smiled and shrugged her shoulders. It was partly, she explained, a frolic, but chiefly because she was desperately poor. "My mistress," she explained with the utmost simplicity of manner, "left me a legacy, which would have put me beyond poverty; but it has not yet been paid to me."

The shaft struck home, as it had been intended to strike, though the intention was admirably concealed. Nero blushed and winced. He had had the meanness to refuse, or, rather, to postpone indefinitely, the payment of the few legacies which Octavia had left to her attendants.

Every inquiry she met with the same imperturbable composure. She missed no opportunity of planting a sting in the consciences of her questioners-if consciences they had; but no one could be sure that [232] it was done with intention. In the end, she came out of the cross-examination, which was protracted and severe, without having made a single damaging admission.

When accuser and accused were removed from the presence, the Emperor summed up the case after this fas.h.i.+on. "Well, the woman has much more the look of telling the truth than the man. And he is, I know, a thorough scoundrel. However, where there is smoke there is pretty sure to be fire. See that she is kept in safe custody, Tigellinus, but don't let any harm come to her. We shall see what happens."

THE PLOT THICKENS.

[233] THE arrest and detention of Epicharis was soon known to the conspirators at Rome. At the result of the examination, they could only guess. However, as she was being kept in honourable custody, without having to suffer any indignity or hards.h.i.+p, it was safe to conjecture that nothing compromising had been discovered.

Still the incident was alarming, and made the necessity of immediate action more pressing than ever. A meeting of the conspirators, who now numbered more than fifty in all, itself a most dangerous circ.u.mstance, was held without delay. At this it was unanimously resolved, almost without discussion, that the attempt must be made at the very first convenient opportunity. The Tribune Subrius, who was generally recognized as one of the most daring of the a.s.sociates, and who, if it had only been permitted, would have struck the blow long before, was invited to give his opinion as to the time, the place, and the manner of the deed, which, it must be understood, was nothing else than the a.s.sa.s.sination of Nero.

Subrius had thought out his plan, and had the [234] details ready. "In my judgment," he said," we have already waited too long; but of that it is now useless to speak, except so far as to prove that we should wait no longer. We are in imminent danger. A woman, who knows at least the names of two of us, is in prison on this very charge; and though I know her to be brave and steadfast beyond the habit of her s.e.x, the peril that lies in her knowledge is great. Let us antic.i.p.ate it. To-night Nero goes to Bai?, and takes up his abode in the villa of Caius Piso. There is no place where he lives in so little state; and state, with the mult.i.tudes of guards and attendants that it implies, is the same thing as safety. I propose that the deed be done to-morrow, and I offer myself as the doer of it. Suffer me to choose the hour, and also my companion, for more than one I shall not need."

A murmur of applause followed the speech. When it had subsided, all eyes were turned to Piso. His approval was necessary, not only as being the owner of the villa, but as being, so to speak, the heir presumptive to the throne. Piso rose immediately.

"It vexes me," he said, "to differ, as my conscience compels me, from the counsel of a most gallant and energetic gentleman. You have thought me worthy of succeeding to the dignity about to be left vacant by the most merited punishment of him who now unworthily occupies it. But I cannot consent to polluting the first auspices of my rule by an [235] atrocious crime. It is not that I think the slaughter of an impious and bloodstained wretch to be anything but a worthy deed; it is that the vilest of mankind may gain pity, and even pardon, by the manner of his death. Nero, indeed, deserves to die; but that he should perish, a guest at the table of his host, while he is enjoying in security the entertainment which I offer to him, would be a thing equally odious to both G.o.ds and men. Power acquired by such a crime could not be exercised with benefit either to the Roman people or myself. Both as a private man, to whom the sanct.i.ty of his house is as precious as it is to all good citizens, or as the man about to be called by your suffrage to the Imperial power, I refuse my consent to the execution of this plan."

There was a general feeling of disappointment, and even dismay, when Piso sat down. It was generally felt that the reason which he had given for his dissent was both true and false: so far true that no one could dispute its validity; so far false that it did not express his whole mind. It was founded, not on a scruple, but a fear. a.s.sure him of the succession, and he would have struck Nero as he sat at his table, with his own hand, all laws of hospitality notwithstanding. It was the obstacle that such a deed might be to this succession that he feared. He was not indispensable; to many he would not be the most eligible candidate for power. The scale might be thus finally turned against him. There might be a [236] general agreement on some rival who would begin the new reign unstained by crime. Such a rival he had in his mind, a man of blameless morals and of race as n.o.ble as his own, with the added distinction of being a descendant of Augustus. (Footnote: This was Lucius Junius Torquatus Sila.n.u.s. His grandmother was AEmilia Lepida, the great granddaughter of Augustus.) Still, whatever his motives, his decision was final.

The next speaker was a Senator, Scaevinus by name.

"Three days hence," he said, "the Feast of Ceres begins. The Emperor will certainly attend on the last day. Then will be our chance. When he comes down from his box, as he always does, will be the time."

"That," said Subrius, "puts it off for eleven days more, (Footnote: The festival lasted for eight days, the grand day being the last, when an exhibition was given in the Circus.) and no one knows what may happen in that time. Still, I shall be ready."

Scaevinus stood up again. "The help of our friend Subrius will be welcome then as always; but I claim the chief part in the deed for myself; it is my hand that must strike the first blow."

A murmur of surprise ran through the meeting. No one had ever been able to guess why Scaevinus had a.s.sociated himself with the enterprise. He was a man of dissolute life, who had never shown any kind of energy except in the pursuit of pleasure. As [237] for his present demand, it was nothing less than astonis.h.i.+ng. However, it could not well be refused; the meeting had accepted the scheme, and its proposer must be allowed to take the chief share in it.

Subrius shrugged his shoulders. "What does the man mean?" he whispered to his next neighbour. "No one more unfit could have been found if we had searched Rome through from one end to the other. The man has neither strength nor nerve. If he ever had them, which I much doubt, for he comes of a bad stock, he has wasted them long ago."

The Tribune's feelings were shared by others, especially the soldiers; and there were manifest signs of dissent.

At this point Latera.n.u.s rose. "Suffer me to explain what we propose. I have a private request to make of the Emperor; as we are all friends here, I don't mind saying that it is a pet.i.tion for a grant out of the privy purse in aid of the expenses of my Consuls.h.i.+p. He has had notice that I am going to prefer it; he likes to make a parade of his liberality, and so he will not be surprised when I ask him this favour in public. I shall throw myself down on my knees before him, when he comes down from his box, and take care to do it in such a way as to upset him. When he is once down I shall not let him get up again. Then will be the time for all my friends who desire to have a hand in the affair to run up and do their best to rid the world of this monster. All that Scaevinus de- [238] mands is the glory of being allowed to strike the first blow!"

This explanation put a new and more satisfactory face on the matter. Latera.n.u.s was a man of huge stature and of great personal strength; of his courage and resolution there was no question.

"That sounds better," said the Praetorian to his friend. "Practically, Latera.n.u.s takes the first part; he is in every way fit for it, and besides, he has an unimpeachable reason for approaching the Emperor. Scaevinus' privilege of striking the blow is only a concession to his trumpery vanity, which, I suppose, we need not grudge him. If he does not make haste about it, when his turn comes, I know that I for one shall not wait for him. And yet I can't help wis.h.i.+ng that the silly fool had nothing to do with it. He may make a failure of it all yet."

A few more details remained to be arranged. It was obviously inexpedient that all the conspirators should take part in the a.s.sa.s.sination. Some would have to manage the not less important business of suggesting a successor. Accordingly a division of forces was made. Fifteen would be quite as many as were wanted to make sure of the Emperor's death. These were to find places as near as possible to the steps which led down from the Emperor's box into the arena. Others were to be scattered in prominent places about the building, and were to shout, as soon as the deed was done, "Hail, Caius Piso, Caesar Augustus Imperator!"

[239] For the rest of the conspirators a still more important function was reserved. The voices of the people were of little account without the consent and approval of the soldiers. Piso, it was arranged, was to be in waiting in the temple of Ceres. As soon as the deed was done, the remainder of the a.s.sociates, including the most popular of the officers engaged in the conspiracy, and one or two Senators who had served in former years with distinction, and so were known to the soldiers, were to hurry the candidate for the Empire to the camp of the Praetorians. When the soldiers' voices were won by flatteries, promises, and bribes, all would be well. The Senate might be relied upon to register the decision of the men of war. Before nightfall, on the nineteenth of April, it was hoped that messengers would be on their way to the great camps on the frontiers, carrying the announcement that Caius Piso was now, by choice of the Senate and people of Rome, Caesar Augustus, Imperator, Dictator, Tribune of the People, with perpetual authority.

During the intervening days nothing of importance occurred. Nero paid his proposed visit to Piso's villa at Bai?. From thence he came to Rome, arriving in the city on the third day of the festival. He did not show himself at this or any of the five following days. But this excited no apprehension. It was not his custom to attend except on the last day. That he would be present then was practically certain, for [240] it was advertised that the Emperor would contend with certain named compet.i.tors in a chariot-race.

Meanwhile the secret of the conspiracy was kept with a fidelity that, considering the number of the persons engaged, was in the last degree astonis.h.i.+ng. On the eve of the appointed day everything was hope and confidence. Unfortunately there was one element of weakness, and that one was to have disastrous consequences.

BETRAYED.

[241] SCAEVINUS had been for some time repenting, if not of his share in the conspiracy, certainly of the impulse which had prompted him to demand the most prominent place in the execution of its purpose. It was now impossible to draw back; if pride had not forbidden-and with all his weakness he was still a Roman-his a.s.sociates might suspect him of treachery, and summarily silence him. The only thing left for him was to fortify his courage as best he could.

His first step was to choose for the deed what he conceived to be a peculiarly lucky weapon. Though, like most of his contemporaries, he believed in little or nothing, he was curiously superst.i.tious, a combination of apparent opposites which has never been uncommon, and which in the pleasure-loving society of Rome was peculiarly frequent. He happened to be the head of a family in which the care of a famous provincial temple, the shrine of Fortune at the little Latin town of Ferentinum, was hereditary. Among the most cherished treasures of this place was an ancient dagger with which a family legend was connected. In the days when the Gauls had captured [242] Rome and were desolating Italy, a Sc?nvinus had struck down with this weapon the leader of a band of the barbarians which had cone to plunder the temple. His descendant now took it down from its place on the walls with much formality, and carried it about with him, not without throwing hints of some great achievement for which it was destined.

This, unfortunately, was only the beginning of follies. On the evening of the 18th of April he invited his freedmen to a sumptuous dinner, to which he carefully gave the character of a farewell entertainment. During the repast he was by turns obstreperously gay and depressed even to tears. After dinner he followed up the usual libation to the G.o.ds by drinking to the memories of the Elder and the Younger Brutus. This done he drew the sacred dagger from its sheath and handed it to the most trusted of his freedmen, Milichus by name, with the injunction to get it sharpened. "Mind," he said at the same time, "that you see to the point, that it be properly sharp, for it has a great work to do." When the weapon was brought back he had other instructions scarcely less significant to give.

"See, Milichus," he said to the freedman, "that you have plenty of bandages ready. One can never tell how soon they may be wanted."

The bandages duly provided, he proceeded to execute with the usual solemnities a new will. When this had been signed and sealed, he seemed still un- [243] satisfied. "Why," he said to his guests, "should you wait for my death before you can enjoy my liberality, though indeed you will very likely not have to wait long."

Two favourite slaves were called up and set free. To others he gave presents of money. To the freedmen at his table he distributed keepsakes, rings, bracelets, writing-tablets, and valuables of all sorts. He might have been a father on his deathbed bidding farewell to his children with an appropriate remembrance of each. And this was the more remarkable because Scaevinus, in ordinary life, was not a particularly generous person.

For some time Milichus had noticed a curious change in his patron's demeanour. Ordinarily, as has been said, Scaevinus was not a man who took life seriously, and Milichus' sole employment had been to minister to his pleasures. For some months past all this had been changed. He had, to a certain extent, reformed his ways, and had a.s.sumed a more than proportionate gravity of demeanour. Not infrequently he had dropped hints of important business which he had in hand, and great functions in the State which he might be called upon to perform.

If these things had not aroused definite suspicions in Milichus they had certainly prepared him to entertain them when he witnessed the proceedings just related. That his patron had something on his mind, and that this something was approaching a critical [244] time, he now felt convinced. When, shortly before midnight, Scaevinus dismissed him with an unusually affectionate good-night, he resolved to take his wife into counsel.