Like a flabby, living tumor, with slimy, infernal eyes and terrific
sucking tentacles that draw like death, that most repulsive and
revolting of all animals, the octopus, folds itself in the shadowy
recesses of a rock. It floats on the waters. It hides amidst the
foliage of the sea. With the quintessence of cunning it watches
and waits for its prey. The sucking arms dart out like a flash at
the approach of a victim, which, after a short struggle, is ground
to pieces in the rapacious jaws of the monster. After the meal the
swelling paunch palpitates with satisfaction. The octopus then
retreats, and awaits the appearance of another victim. When another one
of its own ilk draws near, it makes of that other a companion, but in
the companionship the stronger rules the weaker. A compact is formed.
They repose, watch, and work together.
Such a nefarious compact existed between Tiberius and Sejanus. They
skilfully watched, cunningly deceived, and malignantly intrigued
together. Both were fearless, yet they worked their designs in a
cowardly manner. With evil instinct Tiberius divined the true nature
of Sejanus. The true pulsations of the inner heart of Sejanus, in spite
of his different moods and actions, were known and felt by Tiberius.
No gentle testing was needed between two such natures. They met and
immediately recognized each other. No circumlocution was necessary;
they spoke directly and plainly. As two equally pitched sounds of a
discordant note vibrate in unison and assimilate, so did these two
natures. Malignity, violence, and cruelty were the sounds they made and
heard with equal zest and intelligence. But day by day the emperor and
the minister became more dependent the one upon the other. Their plans
grew more intricate and complicated. They became as necessary to each
other as the two syllables are to form the words _e-vil_, _en-vy_, and
_mur-der_.
Although these men belonged to the same vicious class, yet they were
different in kind. Tiberius could be rash; Sejanus must be cautious.
Of noble descent, Tiberius was base and mean; of low origin, Sejanus
assumed an air of nobility. The one was slow, rough, and plain; the
other, quick, smooth, and pompous. When they were together, Tiberius
seemed inferior. There was more vigor in the wickedness of Sejanus.
He was more elegant, more precise, and more ornate in the forming and
working out of his plans. Tiberius was uncouth, diffuse, and ordinary.
In their infernal deeds Tiberius was barbarous; Sejanus, artistic.
If they had been sculptors, Tiberius would have carved a brutal and
screaming Fury; Sejanus, a sly and deriding Satyr.
Such were the similarities and the differences between these two men
who controlled the destinies of the nation. What was the effect of
their personalities on the empire and the Roman people? Only at Rome
and in Italy were sowed the seeds of violence. The other portions of
the empire tranquilly lived under the old laws of the Divine Augustus.
At Rome the Senate was deceived into believing that the emperor was no
more than a figure-head.
The Curia was apparently respected. All freedom and forms of the old
Roman republic seemed to be in force. But underneath this seeming
tranquillity sinister ideas were working. The Praetorian soldiers were
brought together in one building within the city. Intimidation fell
upon the people. Interference with the courts took place. But the
most iniquitous system of espionage was promulgated. No house of an
important citizen was secure from spies. Traitors lurked in the bosoms
of families. Money was freely paid for information. As everything
malignant was believed, false testimony multiplied. The courts were
filled with trials for treason. The city became a festering mass of
sneaking spies, unscrupulous informers, and infamous liars.
Sejanus had already greeted the emperor in the room adjoining the
council chamber. With an air of satisfaction Tiberius had replied that
the minister was gladly welcome.
“Why has the audience been dismissed so hastily, O Tiberius?” asked
Sejanus.
“Sit thou down. I will tell thee,” drawled the emperor, as he slowly
paced up and down the room. He added: “Life at Rome is unbearable. I
long to leave the city and live where I can be free.”
“But is not an emperor free, O noble man?” asked the cunning minister.
“Free!” exclaimed the emperor, in a tone of mockery. “The name of
emperor is high-sounding; but a hollow ball will make more noise than
a solid one. Ah, Sejanus, the criticisms that are made and the satire
that circulates against me, the discontent of my relatives, and the
unrest of the people in Rome, all affect me, so that I am deprived
of all rest. My palace has become the abode of lamentations. The air
murmurs complaints. The footsteps on the marble floors echo sighs. The
curtains between the rooms, like funeral robes, drop from their folds
oppressive rustlings. My bed groans. My crumpling pillow burns my head
like a feverish hand. Free? Is the emperor free? Ah, I must live away
from those who know me!”
“Thou art all-powerful, O Tiberius. Who dares prevent thee from the
full indulgence of thy will?”
“’Tis not that which troubles me, O faithful Sejanus. Where can I
behold the face of one who loves me? My mother hates me. Drusus hates
me. The she-wolf, Agrippina, and her whelps also hate me. There is not
one who trusts me, not one who looks upon me with love. But I care not!
Ha, ha! I care not!”
There was no mirth in these ejaculations; they were full of bitter
irony.
“Tell me, O good Tiberius, why hast thou become so embittered?”
“Ah, Sejanus, my mother has but shortly left me. Her words were
burdened with hateful censure. For years has she cherished letters
written to her by the Divine Augustus. To-day, in rage, she gave them
me. Here on the floor are the words of invective he wrote her about
me. He calls me ‘a thorn in his flesh,’ ‘a canker feeding on his
happiness’--ye gods! and I, like a whipped boy, heard the abuse without
raising a hand! My mother never loved me. Nay, all the gradations of
the word _hate_ express the regard she has always had for me. To-day
she parted from me forever.”
“Thy mother is aged and--”
“Ay, aged,” interposed Tiberius; “but her mind is clear. Then Drusus
hates me because I trust thee.”
“Full well do I know his hatred,” assented Sejanus.
“But--what didst thou say, O honest friend?” asked Tiberius, not
grasping the full meaning of Sejanus.
“At last I understand thy son’s hatred,” repeated Sejanus.
“What dost thou mean?”
“When thou hast finished, I will tell thee.”
“Let not passion warp thy true regard for my son,” said the emperor,
reproachfully.
“Proceed, O noble Tiberius,” begged Sejanus.
“Agrippina and her two sons--Nero and Drusus--hate me because of the
death of Germanicus and because they do not receive more power. Ah!
they all hate me. I hate them. I hate the Senators with their soft
words and flattering servility. I hate the city, I hate the people.
Bah!”
The tone of Tiberius and the vehemence with which he ended his bitter
words of hatred affected Sejanus like water on thirsty lips. Every such
storm of abuse gave him a nearer approach to the quaffing of the cup
of full power. In all his castle building he had never dreamed of the
possibility of the emperor’s living outside of Rome.
“Thou hast true cause for hatred, O abused man,” said Sejanus.
“Ay! But I know well this game of hate. Woe to those that hate me and
those that I hate! The people shall be taught that Tiberius never
forgives or forgets. I will go to an island--Dost thou remember Capri,
with its inaccessible cliffs? Ay, I will go there. From Capri the blows
shall fall. Then can I cry with untrammelled joy, ‘I am free! I am
free!’”
As he uttered these last words, he gathered in his right hand a part
of his toga which had become loosened, and threw it over his left
shoulder. This action caused the plaster on his face to loosen. A
little watery stream colored with blood trickled down his cheek and
dropped upon his toga. Tiberius pressed the plaster with his hand,
which, becoming moist with the suppuration, he wiped on his greasy hair.
“Right well do I remember, O Tiberius, the cliffs of Capri,” said
Sejanus. “There thou shalt be truly free. Ay, and respect for a ruler
increases when his power is felt and he is not seen. But thou hast
friends in Rome, O Tiberius,--friends who would die for thee.”
“Ay, thou art the only man who dost understand my wishes. I love and
trust thee. I confide in thee as I confide in no other man. But what
knowest thou about Drusus, O truthful friend?”
“Goest thou to his dinner this night?” inquired Sejanus.
“Ay; and thou?” asked the emperor.
“Business in the camp prevents me.”
“Always on duty, O faithful Sejanus! Would that others were as
attentive as thou art!”
“I shall appear later,” he said. He paused a moment, and then
continued, “But how can I inform thee of thy danger?”
“By Hercules! To what danger dost thou refer?”
“Thou wouldst not believe me if I should tell thee,” replied Sejanus.
“Have I ever doubted thy word?”
“Nay, O Tiberius; but this is incredible.”
“Incredible, sayest thou? But hast thou proofs?”
“Ay, convincing and undeniable proofs.”
“Then be silent no longer.”
“Give me thine ear, O Tiberius,” he said dramatically. “_There is a
plot against thy life!_”
“Ah-h-h! By the gods! Some one wishes me dead? Continue, O Sejanus!”
“Ay; but there is no danger. I have worked with my spies and know all
the details,” said the minister, assuringly. “This night, whilst thou
drinkest with Drusus, an attempt will be made to poison thee.”
“Drusus will try to poison me?”
“Said I not that it was incredible?”
“Surely thou art wrong!” shouted the emperor. “His mind is too weak to
plot. He indulges too much in the pleasures of life to wish to rule.”
“What I have said, O Tiberius, is true. At the end of the dinner he
will approach thee with a cup of wine. Drink not the first cup. Heed my
words; for of a truth I know of what I speak.”
“Who has told thee this?”
“An honest spy, who never loses sight of thy son,” replied Sejanus.
“Drusus bought some poison. He also purchased a golden cup. In that cup
death will lurk. Touch it not!”
“Have I not said he hates me? Yet never did I believe that he would go
so far,” said Tiberius, fearfully impressed by the announcement of the
minister.
“Was he at the audience?” asked Sejanus.
“Ay,” replied the emperor. “Well do I remember the anxiety he expressed
to have me present at the dinner this night. By Jupiter! I will remain
at home.”
“Remain at home if it be thy pleasure,” said the minister; “but in
remaining at home thou losest the opportunity for proof. Continually
wilt thou be liable to danger from him. Go, O noble Tiberius! Watch
carefully, eat fearlessly, but drink ever cautiously.”
Tiberius paused a short time, and then with an air of determination
said: “I will go. But fail not to meet me before the evening is over.”