The Roman sotk-2

by Mika Waltari

  Otho explained, however, that Poppaea was much too shy and proud, and he kept finding other excuses as well. But he was persuaded to tell how not even Venus herself being born from the waves could be more beautiful than Poppaea in her morning bath of ass’s milk. Otho had acquired a whole stable of asses which were milked for her alone.

  I was consumed with such black jealousy that I stayed away from all gatherings at which Otho was present. My writer friends teased me about my melancholy and I gradually consoled myself with the thought that if I really loved her, I should only wish her well. Outwardly at least, Poppaea had made the most advantageous match she could have found in Rome.

  But my wife Flavia Sabina became more of a stranger to me than ever, and we could no longer meet without quarreling. I began to think quite seriously about a divorce, however hated I might become by the whole of the Flavius family. But I could not even imagine Sabina agreeing. She had let me understand once and for all that I had instilled in her a distaste for the delights of the marriage bed.

  On her part, she did not mind that I occasionally slept with an experienced slave-girl, as long as I left her in peace. There was no legal reason for a dissolution of a marriage of our kind, and Sabina became enraged when I once mentioned the subject, mostly from fear that she might lose her beloved animals. Finally I could do nothing but hope that one day she would be torn to pieces by one of her lions as she cowed them with her strong will and forced them to do fantastic tricks, with the help of the lion-tamer Epaphroditus.

  Thus the first five years of Nero’s rule went by for me. This was probably the happiest and most flourishing time the world had ever known, or even ever will know, but I felt like a caged animal. I gradually began to neglect my office, gave up riding and put on an excessive amount of weight.

  Nevertheless, there was no great difference between me and other young men in Rome. Numerous unkempt long-haired men could be seen on the streets, dripping with sweat, singing and playing on lyres, a new generation in society who despised the rigid old customs. I myself simply felt indifferent to everything, for the best part of my life had already drifted unnoticeably by, although I was not yet thirty.

  Then Nero and Otho fell out. To annoy Nero, Otho took Poppaea to Palatine with him one day. Nero naturally fell blindly in love with her and, like a spoiled child, he was used to getting what he wanted. But Poppaea rejected his advances and said that Nero had nothing which Otho could not also offer.

  After the meal, Nero had a bottle of his most expensive perfume opened and all the guests were allowed to rub a little of it on themselves. When Nero was later a guest at Otho’s house, Otho had the same perfume sprayed in a mist over all those present.

  It was said that Nero, in his morbid love, once had himself taken to Otho’s house in the middle of the night and hammered in vain on the door. Otho would not let him in, because Poppaea thought it was an unsuitable time for a visit. It was even said that Otho, in the presence of several people, had said to Nero, “In me you see the future Emperor.”

  Whether he had got this idea from some prophecy or from elsewhere, I do not know. Nero had, however, kept his temper and laughed at him scornfully.

  “I can’t even see you as a future consul,” he said.

  To my surprise, Poppaea sent for me one lovely spring day when the cherry trees in the Lucullus gardens were in flower. I thought I had managed to forget her, but my indifference was obviously only on the surface for I obeyed her summons immediately, trembling with ardor. Poppaea was more beautiful than ever. Her little son was with her and she behaved as befits a loving mother. She was dressed in a silk gown which revealed rather than hid the entrancing beauty of her figure.

  “Oh, Minutus,” she cried, “how I have missed you! You are the only unselfish friend I have. I must have your advice.”

  I could not help feeling some distrust, remembering what had happened the last time I had been her adviser. But Poppaea gave me such an innocent smile that I could think no evil of her.

  “You must have heard of the fearful difficulty I am in because of Nero,” she said. “I don’t understand how it happened. I myself have not given the slightest cause for it. But Nero is harassing me with his affection, even to the extent that dear Otho is risking falling from grace for protecting my virtue.”

  She looked at me attentively. Her gray eyes suddenly turned violet and she had had her golden hair arranged so that she looked like an ivory and gold statue of a goddess. She twisted her slim fingers.

  “The most terrible thing is that I cannot be entirely indifferent to Nero,” she said. “He is a handsome man, with his red hair, and his violent feelings only attract me. He is so noble, too, and such an artist when he sings. When I hear him play and sing, I am so entranced that I can only stare at him. If he were unselfish, like you for instance, he would try to protect me from my own feelings and not fan the flame in them. But perhaps he does not himself see what feelings his very presence evokes in me. Minutus, I tremble all over as soon as I see him, as I have never before trembled in the presence of a man. Fortunately, I have been able to hide it and I try to avoid him as far as is possible in my position.”

  I do not know if she herself knew how I suffered when she spoke in this manner.

  “You’re in great danger, Poppaea dear,” I said in horror. “You must flee. Ask Otho to apply for a proconsulship in one of the provinces. Move away from Rome.”

  Poppaea stared at me as if I were mad.

  “How could I live anywhere else but in Rome?” she said. “I should die of grief. But there is a much worse and even stranger thing. I shouldn’t even dare tell you if I couldn’t trust your discretion completely. A Jewish soothsayer, and you know how clever they are at that kind of thing, told me a little while ago-don’t laugh now-that one day I’d be the consort of an Emperor.”

  “But my dear sweet Poppaea,” I said, “haven’t you read what Cicero says about prophecies? Don’t bother your pretty little head with such madness.”

  Poppaea sulked and said sourly, “Why do you say it’s madness? Otho’s family is a very ancient one, and he has many friends in the Senate. In fact Nero can do nothing about the prophecy except by dissolving our marriage. He has his own Octavia, although he swears he’ll never bring himself to sleep with her, so great is his dislike for the poor girl. On the other hand, I cannot understand how a young Emperor can and wants to have a freed slave-girl for his bed companion. It’s so low and despicable in my view that I boil whenever I think about it.”

  I was silent and thoughtful.

  “What do you really want of me?” I asked finally, somewhat distrustfully.

  Poppaea patted my cheek, sighed tremulously and gave me a warm look.

  “Oh, Minutus,” she said. “You’re not really very clever, are you? But perhaps that’s why I like you so much. A woman needs a friend to talk to honestly about anything. If you were a real friend, you would go to Nero and tell him everything. He’d be bound to receive you if you tell him you’ve come from me. He’s already so attracted to me that I know he’d listen.”

  ‘What do you mean by everything?” I asked. “You’ve just said you trust my discretion.”

  Poppaea drew my hand to her and pressed it to her hip.

  “Tell him he must leave me alone,” she said, “because he makes me so weak. I am only a woman and he is irresistible. But if in my weakness I fell for his seduction, I should have to take my own life to retain my self-respect since I cannot live in dishonor. Tell him that definitely. Tell him about the prophecy, too, for I cannot bear the thought of Otho harming him in any way. In my stupidity, I happened to tell Otho about the prophecy and I regret doing so very much. I had no idea how ambitious he really is.”

  I had not the slightest wish to run errands for Poppaea again. But her presence made me powerless and her eager trust in me appealed to my masculine need to protect the weak. True, I was beginning to suspect dimly that Poppaea was not in great need of protection. On the other hand,
I thought I could not possibly be mistaken about the shy modesty in her conduct and her lovely gray eyes. She would hardly have leaned so trustfully against me and let me embrace her if she had had the slightest idea what she was arousing in my shameless body.

  After searching for a long time, I found Nero in Gaius’ circus exercising his Spanish team by racing at a tremendous speed around the course against the once-exiled Gaius Sophonius Tigellinus, whom he had appointed stablemaster. There were guards at the entrance for form’s sake, but in spite of this quite a few people had gathered in the spectators’ seats to cheer Nero on and applaud him.

  I had to wait a long time before Nero, sticky with sweat, finally removed his helmet and had the protective linen bandages taken from his legs. Tigellinus praised him for his rapid progress and criticized him severely for mistakes he had ‘made in the turns and with the side-horses’ reins. Nero listened humbly and accepted the advice. Quite reasonably, he trusted Tigellinus unquestioningly in all matters concerning horses and chariots.

  Tigellinus gave way for no one and treated his slaves with great brutality. Tall, muscular, thin-faced, he looked arrogantly around as if conscious that there was nothing in life that could not be overcome by harshness. He had once lost everything he possessed, but as an exile he had made a fortune breeding horses and in fisheries. It was said that no woman or boy was safe in his presence.

  When I indicated with grimaces and gestures that my errand was important, Nero allowed me to accompany him to the bathhouse in the garden. When I whispered Poppaea Sabina’s name in his ear, he sent all the others away and as a favor allowed me to scrub his dusty squat body clean with the pumice stone. With lively questions, he managed to extract from me practically everything Poppaea had said.

  “Leave her in peace then,” I said solemnly. “That’s all she asks, so that she is not torn by her feelings. She wishes only to be an honorable wife. You yourself know her modesty and innocence.”

  Nero burst out laughing, but then turned serious, nodding several times.

  “Of course, I’d rather you had come with laurels on your spearhead, messenger,” he said. “I am surprised how well you understand women. But I’ve had enough of their whims. There are other women in the world besides Lollia Poppaea. So I’ll leave her in peace. She herself will have to see that she doesn’t keep bobbing up in front of my eyes as she has done hitherto. Greet her from me and tell her that her conditions are much too demanding.”

  “But she hasn’t made any conditions,” I protested in confusion.

  Nero looked at me pityingly.

  “You’d better go and see to your wild animals and your own wife,” he said. “Send Tigellinus to me to wash my hair.”

  So he sent me away. But I could understand him, if he really were so blindly in love with Poppaea and was now disappointed at her refusal. I hurried happily back to tell Poppaea the good news, but to my surprise she was not at all pleased. In fact she smashed a little jar to pieces, so that the expensive ointment splashed on the floor and the scent of it made my head whirl.

  Her face was twisted and ugly as she cried, “We’ll see who will win in the end, he or I.”

  I well remember the day the following summer when I was stubbornly demanding that the overseer of the aqueduct should have newer and bigger lead pipes taken to the menagerie. For several days we had been having the hot wind which brought red dust and gave me headaches.

  There were always disputes over the water supply, for the rich noblemen had their own pipes from the aqueducts to their private baths, gardens and ponds, and because of the increase in population in Rome, there was a great shortage of water. I understood the overseer’s difficult situation. His office was not an enviable one, even if an unprejudiced holder did become rich during his term of office. On the other hand, I considered the menagerie had a special case and that I had no reason to pay him for what in fact were my rights.

  We had reached a deadlock. He refused and I demantled. We were finding it difficult even to maintain a formal politeness in the discussion. I should have liked to leave and let the matter drop, but my wife’s anger would have been even more difficult to endure.

  “I know the magistrates’ and Senate’s decisions on water supplies by heart,” I said finally. ‘Til have to go to Nero myself, although he doesn’t like being bothered with such little matters as this. I’m afraid it will all end far worse for you than for me.”

  The overseer, a dull man, smiled ironically.

  “Do as you please,” he said. “In your place, I wouldn’t go annoying Nero by talking about Rome’s water supply just at this moment.”

  I had heard no gossip for a long time, so I asked him what was going on.

  “Don’t you know, or are you pretending not to know?” he asked incredulously. “Otho has been appointed as Proconsul in Lusitania and has been advised to go there as soon as possible. This morning Nero dissolved his marriage officially, at Otho’s request, of course. All other matters were put aside as Nero was in such a hurry to care for the defenseless Poppaea Sabina, who is moving to Palatine.”

  It was like a blow from a club on my already aching head.

  “I know Poppaea Sabina,” I cried. “She would never agree to such a thing. Nero has taken her to Palatine by force.”

  The overseer shook his gray head.

  “I’m afraid we’re going to have a new Agrippina instead of the old one,” he said. “The old one is said to be moving from Antonia’s house in the country to Antium.”

  I could not bring myself to take his insinuations seriously. Agrippina’s name was the only thing I really took in. I forgot my thirsty animals and the hippos’ dried-up pool. Agrippina was the only person I thought might save Poppaea Sabina from Nero’s immoral intentions. A mother had to have sufficient influence over her son to prevent his publicly violating the most beautiful woman in Rome. I had to protect Poppaea now she could no longer protect herself.

  Beside myself, I hurried to old Antonia’s house on Palatine, where I found them all in such a state of confusion because of the move that no one stopped me from entering. I found Agrippina in a state of icy rage. With her was Octavia, the quiet girl who had had nothing more than the rank of wife from her marriage to the Emperor. Agrippina’s half sister Antonia, beautiful still and Claudius’ daughter by his first marriage, was also there, as was Antonia’s second husband, Faustus Sulla. When I appeared so unexpectedly, they all immediately fell silent, but Agrippina greeted me sharply.

  “What a pleasant surprise after so many years,” she said. “I thought you’d forgotten everything I’d done for you and were as ungrateful as my own son. I’m even more pleased that you are the only knight in Rome to come and bid farewell to a poor exiled woman.”

  “Perhaps I have neglected our friendship,” I cried in despair, “but we’ve no time for unnecessary talk now. You must save Poppaea Sabina from Nero’s greedy clutches and take her into your protection. Your son is disgracing himself in the eyes of all Rome with this outrage, not just the innocent Poppaea.”

  Agrippina stared at me and shook her head.

  “I’ve done everything I can,” she said sharply, “even wept and cursed, to save my son from the hands of that lecherous and scheming woman. As a reward I’ve been ordered to leave Rome. Poppaea has had her own way and is holding on to Nero like a leech.”

  I tried to assure her that Poppaea wished only that Nero should leave her in peace, but Agrippina laughed scornfully. She believed nothing good of any other woman.

  “That woman has driven Nero out of his mind with her debaucheries,” she said. “Nero is inclined that way, although I’ve done everything I could to hide it from other people. But sometimes everything blackens before his eyes and he has to protect his sight. His mad taste for lowly and unsuitable pleasures is evidence of it. But I’ve begun to write my memoirs and I’ll complete them in Antium. I have sacrificed everything for my son, even committed crimes which only he can pardon. It must be told now, since e
veryone knows anyhow.”

  Her eyes glowed strangely and she raised her hands as if warding off a blow. Then she looked at Octavia and stroked her cheek.

  “I can see the shadow of death on your face,” she said. “Your cheeks are like ice. But it might all pass if only Nero recovers from this madness. Not even the Emperor can defy the wish of the Senate and the people. No one can trust Nero. He is a terrible hypocrite and a born actor.”

  When I looked at Antonia, still beautiful despite her pallor, an unpleasant shadow from the past crossed my mind, and I thought of her half sister Claudia, who had brought shame on my love for her. I think I must have been confused by Agrippina’s mad accusations against Poppaea, for the question slipped unintentionally out of my mouth.

  “You spoke of your memoirs,” I said. “Do you remember Claudia? How is she? Has she improved?”

  I think Agrippina would have ignored my question had her fury not unbalanced her so.

  “You can ask at the naval brothel in Misenum,” she said viciously. “I promised to send your Claudia to a closed house to complete her education. A brothel is the right place for bastards.”

  She stared at me like a Medusa.

  “You are the most gullible fool I’ve ever met, I think,” she said. “You just opened your mouth and swallowed all that false evidence on her whoring. But for her it was enough that she had become involved with a Roman knight. If I’d known how ungrateful you were going to be, I’d never have gone to so much trouble to prevent her from bringing you unhappiness.”

  Antonia laughed loudly.

  “Did you really send Claudia to a brothel, dear stepmother?” she said. “I wondered why she suddenly stopped plaguing me to recognize her as my sister and vanished from my sight.”

  Antonia’s nostrils quivered. She stroked her soft throat as if to wipe away an invisible insect. There was a strange delicate beauty about her slim figure at that moment.