In the palace of Drusus the important dinner, whose outcome so many
anxiously waited, had been prepared, but the emperor had not arrived.
He was impatiently awaited in the atrium by Drusus and Livilla. Julia,
their daughter, was with them. Near by the guests were laughing and
talking. Livilla’s mother and brother, Antonia and Claudius, were
there. Among the other relatives were Agrippina and her daughters,
Agrippina, Drusilla, and Julia; and her sons, Nero, Drusus, and
Caligula. Outside of the family only the consul and a few Senators
with their wives were present. Livilla appeared excited and talked
hurriedly. She asked Drusus, “Art thou sure the emperor will come?”
“Ay, Livilla; I am positive that he will be here,” replied Drusus,
assuringly.
“’Tis late. I wonder what hinders him,” she nervously asked.
“Be not so excited, O Livilla,” replied her husband. “Why dost thou
tremble? What dost thou fear?”
“I fear nothing,” she answered, forcing an air of composure.
“Then be calm, I pray thee. Didst thou ever see thy mother so ill at
ease, O daughter Julia?”
“Her hands are cold,” said Julia. “Art thou ill, O mother?”
“Nay, my daughter,” replied the mother, trying to smile.
A burst of laughter interrupted them. Claudius, who was the centre of a
small group, was receiving humorous attacks made upon him by Nero.
“Of a truth, Livilla,” said Drusus, “thy brother grows stouter every
day. His life can be summed up in three words,--eat, drink, and sleep.
Go, Julia, join thy cousins and be happy.”
“But why tarries the emperor?” again impatiently asked Livilla.
“Mayhap Sejanus detains him,” said Drusus. “New honors, O Livilla,
have been awarded the minister, while I receive nothing. Insulted in
the Senate has our grandmother, Livia, been this day by our father.
Insulted also have I been by him. The Senate decreed me honors which my
father would not allow. O Livilla, Sejanus, my enemy, is loved by my
father, whilst I, the heir, am hated. Verily do I believe that my death
would be welcomed by them both!”
Livilla made no reply. She played with the rings on her fingers as she
gazed vacantly before her. She started when Drusus added, “Is not that
true?”
“What didst thou say, O Drusus?”
“Ah! thy thoughts drift far away, O Livilla. What troubles thee? Thou
dreamest with thine eyes open.”
“I dream of the future, my lord.”
“But our future can be more happy than the present. Truly, I have been
tormented by the man I hate. I am rough, but I love my family. Let us
quarrel no more, O wife. Why dost thou tremble?”
“I know not, my lord. I feel a sinking in my heart. A cup of wine will
strengthen me.”
A slave brought a cup of wine, which she hastily drank. With an effort
she controlled herself and forced a smile. She and Drusus then joined
Antonia, who was talking to her daughter-in-law, Agrippina. Caligula,
the thin and pale twelve-year-old son of Agrippina, stood with his arm
locked in his mother’s.
“Thou art sad, O mother,” said Livilla to Antonia.
“Ay; we were speaking of thy brother, Germanicus,” replied Antonia.
“Truly, ’twas this very day, six years ago, that his ashes were laid in
the mausoleum of the Divine Augustus. I had forgotten,” said Livilla.
“But the lad, Caligula, bears on his face the stamp of thy noble
husband, O Agrippina,” said Drusus.
“Nero resembles his father more than Caligula does, O Drusus,” objected
Antonia.
“The eyes of a grandmother are rarely deceived,” said Agrippina,
looking with pride upon her son Nero, who stood not far from her.
“Then whom do I resemble?” asked Caligula, playing with his mother’s
hand.
“Thou lookest more like thy mother, O child,” said his grandmother,
Antonia.
“My masters say that I resemble the bust of my divine ancestor when he
was a lad,” said Caligula, bashfully.
The arrival of the emperor checked all further conversation. Silence
fell upon the crowd. With his face stolid and severe, Tiberius nodded
to the guests, who replied with murmured words of salutation. At the
sight of the emperor Livilla appeared more at ease. She kissed him upon
the forehead, and after the dinner had been announced she walked with
him into the triclinium.
The sumptuous dining-room, whose marble walls had echoed with the
poetic words of Horace, Virgil, and Propertius, was brightly lighted
by curiously wrought silver lamps, resting on graceful onyx columns.
Grouped around a table in a semicircle and covered with cushions
of variegated colored silks, were the couches on which the guests
reclined. As the different courses were served, Drusus endeavored to
enliven the conversation, but the voices which at the appearance of
Tiberius had become hushed were still restrained. Tiberius conversed
chiefly with Antonia. When he sometimes addressed others, he snapped
his words like a snarling dog. In spite of the efforts of Drusus to be
entertaining, no one was at ease. Agrippina conversed in an undertone.
Her children forced an air of gayety. Livilla nervously regarded her
husband. The Senators spoke only when they were addressed.
“Hast thou no hunger, O father Tiberius?” asked Drusus, when the
emperor had refused three courses in succession.
“My appetite has lately left me,” answered Tiberius, closely regarding
his son.
Drusus lowered his gaze as he said, “Thou wilt not refuse a cup of
wine?”
Again Tiberius glanced critically at Drusus. “Offer me no wine at
present, O Drusus,” he replied.
Still addressing his father, Drusus said, “’Twas with great regret I
learned that our grandmother Livia could not attend our dinner.”
To these words, which were received as an insult, Tiberius
sarcastically replied, “With equal regret I heard that it would be
impossible for Sejanus to attend.”
Drusus had meant no insolence, but the words of his father were a
direct affront. Curbing his anger, but speaking in a loud tone, he
said, “Henceforth, O father, refrain from speaking that name before me.”
At the loud, harsh tones of Drusus the guests became even more
constrained. With a deeper frown on his forehead and a sneer on his
lips, Tiberius said: “Thou knowest not the man thou abusest. No one in
Rome sacrifices personal pleasures for public duties more than he does.
Affairs of state occupy all his time. His unselfish nature is one that
all should imitate. Vilify the sluggard who revels continually. Revile
not the just. Sejanus is my friend, and nothing shall be spoken before
_me_ that tends to dishonor him.”
Hearing his father thus championing the cause of Sejanus, Drusus,
although chagrined, assumed a respectful demeanor, and rising from his
couch and approaching his father, said: “Then let discord go her way, O
father Tiberius! The impetuosity of anger often produces burning words.
We will drink a toast to peace. Let bitterness be washed away by the
crimson wine! What, ho! a toast!”
At this command Lygdus entered, bearing on a silver tray several cups
of silver and one of gold. A slave bore a large urn filled with wine.
Drusus took the vessel and filled the golden cup and one of silver.
Lygdus passed the cups to the emperor, who took the one of silver.
Drusus, seeing the golden cup left for him, said, “This cup is for
thee, O father!”
“Nay, my son,” said Tiberius, with his eyes riveted on Drusus.
“But I insist, O father!”
“Golden words of peace should be bathed with wine from a golden cup,”
said Tiberius, with an effort at calmness. “But come,” he added, “a
toast to peace and the absent Sejanus!”
Livilla anxiously watched every motion of Tiberius, Drusus, and Lygdus.
She nervously clutched a pillow from the couch, and unconsciously
compressed it with such violence that she felt the firm pressure of her
fingers on the palm of her hand. In her excitement she drew her cheek
between her teeth, and bit it so hard that it bled.
At first, when the wine was offered him, Tiberius started. Every detail
was being enacted as Sejanus had predicted. The emperor watched his
son’s expression, and marvelled at the indifferent air with which
Drusus insisted upon offering him the golden cup. He marvelled still
more when Drusus, with no show of fear, took the golden cup in his own
hands. Tiberius thought the dissimulation of Drusus was most cleverly
done.
But Drusus was innocent of the terrible crime which his father
attributed to him. He did not dream that an infamous plot was being
ingeniously carried out. He lightly raised the golden cup, and at the
toast to peace he readily nodded assent. But when Tiberius added to the
toast the name of Sejanus, Drusus recoiled and trembled. If there were
any doubts in the mind of Tiberius that Drusus wished to poison him,
these doubts vanished at the confusion with which Drusus appeared to be
seized. With visible emotion Drusus took the cup, and in one swallow
drank half the contents.
The crafty eunuch watched minutely every expression and action of
Drusus and Tiberius. Having been informed by Sejanus which cup Tiberius
would choose, the eunuch had put poison into the golden cup. When
Drusus drank from that cup, the face of Lygdus remained passive, but
his snake-like eyes sparkled with satisfaction.
[Illustration]
After drinking the wine Drusus turned towards his couch, carrying the
golden cup in his hand. He staggered before he reached it, and the cup
dropped from his hand and bounded upon the floor. He recovered himself
and finally reached his couch. In a thick voice he called for water.
Before the water could be given him he became unconscious. Writhing in
the throes of agony, he fell heavily upon the floor and expired.
At this horrible sight the guests were filled with consternation
and became almost panic-stricken. They hastily departed, mingling
expressions of fear and condolence. Tiberius exulted in the narrow
escape he had had, and looked upon the death of his son as a just
visitation; for now he believed completely the story of Sejanus.
Ordering the body to be carried to the room of Drusus, and disdaining
to proffer words of consolation to Livilla and her weeping daughter
Julia, he departed. In a short time the triclinium was deserted by all
except the servants, who moved about in awe-struck silence. Not so with
Lygdus, who smiled exultantly as he removed every trace of the horrible
crime.
At the sight of the lifeless form of Drusus, prone on the marble floor,
Livilla felt a guilty pang. She shed no tears, but a wild impulse came
upon her to hide herself. Antonia had remained to comfort the stricken
family. Julia being hysterical, the grandmother remained with her. When
the palace had become quiet, and no sound could be heard but the sobs
of the fatherless Julia, Sejanus triumphantly entered.
Lygdus met him, and together they went into the chamber of Drusus.
Sejanus smiled as he contemptuously pushed the dead face of his
innocent victim.
“Was it soon over?” whispered Sejanus.
“Ay; ’twas a tame death. He called for water, became unconscious, fell
upon the floor, and died,” answered the eunuch in a low tone.
“Were the guests frightened?”
“Verily; they waited not the emperor’s departure.”
“But I must hasten! Await me at the palace entrance,” ordered Sejanus,
as he went towards Livilla’s room.
Livilla was anxiously awaiting his arrival. Scarcely had the curtain
covered the door when she threw herself into his arms. Clasped in the
embrace of her infamous lover, she received strength and assurance.
“’Tis over,” she said in a whisper.
“Ay, my heart’s love; now thou art free!”
“Softly, O Sejanus, my mother is near,” said Livilla, drawing away.
“Did the emperor tremble?” he asked.
“Nay; he appeared anxious only to leave,” she replied.
“And Lygdus?”
“His face remained stolid during the most critical moments.”
“Ah! Said I not that he was trustworthy? He shall be well paid for his
performance.”
“Ah, my lover, I feel a heaviness in my breast, and my head pains me.”
“’Tis but the excitement, Livilla. But I must hasten to the Palatine
Hill! Thou shalt see me on the morrow. Fare thee well, my love!”
“Happy omens be thy speed, O my lover,” said Livilla, kissing him.
As he left, the noise of a crying child was heard. It was one of the
little twins, who, awakening and feeling lonely, wished for a soothing
hand to caress him. Livilla hastened to the little boy and patted him
gently. He whispered, “Father, father,” and fell peacefully asleep.
She stood there some time, oppressed and tormented by her thoughts.
Finally she buried her face in the covers of his little bed and broke
into smothered sobs. So did her mother find her, and so was her mother
deceived into believing that those tears were the tears of a loving and
sorrowing wife.