Chapter VIII
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 therings 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 cushionsof 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 equalregret 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 beforemethat 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 ofgold. 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 thegolden 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.
He staggered and the cup dropped from his hand and bounded upon the floor
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 reachedhis 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.