Allan Massie: Tiberius

A boy was standing before me, his golden limbs moulded like the finest carving. Flowers were twined in his dark hair, and his brow was smooth as one untroubled by dreams, or one whose dreams are only of delight. I found I could not speak.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

When I made no reply, he touched my lips with a wand he carried, and repeated his question.

"Men do not usually dare to make such an enquiry of me," I said.

He smiled.

"Oh men," he said: "Mortal men."

"Are you not mortal then that you speak of men and death so lightly?"

"No, why should you think that?"

He smiled again.

"What are you seeking?" he said. "Oblivion."

"You cannot enjoy that in your life." "Peace, then. And the experience of beauty." "You are not moderate in your requests." "Who are you," I said, "that you speak so confidently, despite your youth?"

"I am a youth only because I choose to appear to you as such, because I choose not to age. I am the genius of this place, and I am here because you summoned me."

"Did I do that?"

"Certainly."

"And can you grant me what I seek?"

"Only if you are prepared to pay the price."

"Is there a price?" I asked. "But of course there must be a price. Well, beautiful boy, tell me what it is…"

"It is a price that few would pay, and which most would think themselves dishonoured by paying. But, since I know that your misery is great, I shall make you an offer."

His mouth, which was shaped like a bow, curved in mockery, in which, nevertheless, I discerned a sympathy such as I have never known and which I yearned for deeply.

"This beautiful island," he said, "is yours for consolation. Isn't that enough, without extracting my price from me, and submitting to it?"

"Tell me what it is," I said.

"Very well, you may enjoy such beauty, peace and oblivion as is within your means, if you consent to let your name be branded with infamy down the ages of time…"

"Such beauty, peace and oblivion as is within my means? How much is that?"

"Not as much as you would wish, more than you would achieve without my aid." "And my name infamous?"

"You will be denounced as a monster, a murderer, a brute and satyr, a deified beast…" "And if I say no?"

"Then you will never see me again. I shall depart, and leave you to your nightmares, your fears, and memories…"

He smiled, a radiant smile, mischievous as the God of Love… "Good," he said, "you accept my bargain…" "I have not said so.. " "Words are not needed…"

The owl cried. The bird of Minerva, it is said, flies only by night; and then I saw that the moon was up, a thin young moon like a golden horn. I was alone, and knew the cold of solitude.

So I made a bargain which would disgrace me in the eyes of my ancestors, and will make my descendants — if any long survive me — blush to recall my name. And I have done so for a promise that may never be redeemed, in which I do not truly believe, for I cannot grant the existence of a power that will still my memory. Finally, the circumstances of my bargain perplex me; it is possible that I saw the boy only in a dream. Yet who would be so bold as to deny that what we experience in a dream may not be true reality? There are philosophers who argue that we dream this life. It is certainly at moments as vivid as a dream.

I might escape the past; I could not escape the present. Every courier brought me news of depravities and conspiracies in Rome. Agrippina, forgetting her plea and my promise, had launched herself in new tirades of slander against me; she reiterated the old lie that I had been privy to Germanicus' murder. Sejanus reported that her agents were active in the army. "I fear what they are plotting," he said. "Allow me, pray, to take the necessary preventive measures." But I declined.

Then he crossed to the island to confront me with his evidence.

"I dared not entrust this to any courier," he said to me, "for in the current atmosphere of suspicion and treachery, I did not know anyone on whom I could absolutely depend. The fact is, Tiberius, that that woman and her son have so corrupted the legions that rigorous investigation is going to be necessary before we know who is trustworthy. And I must tell you that even such investigation may prove unreliable, for one has to trust the investigators, who may be unworthy of our confidence. Do you understand the morass through which I wade?"

"You say, her son. Which of her sons?"

"Nero."

"Nero, I would be sorry to believe him guilty. He is a boy on whom I have lavished kindness."

"Nevertheless, he has been heard to say that it was time the old man was dead. I give you his exact words."

"They don't seem so very dreadful. I have often thought that myself."

"Caesar," he said, "you don't understand."

He threw himself back in his chair, and clapped his hands, and despatched a slave to fetch wine. He had long been accustomed to use such freedom in my presence, and I had delighted in it. Now, for the first time, it seemed presumptuous; yet I knew the depth of his loyalty towards me. He waited in silence for the wine, drank a cup of it, and wiped his lips. Sweat glistened on his brow.

"You must listen," he said. "I know you don't want to, but you must, or we are both dead men, and Rome is in turmoil. You are Augustus' heir, you have often told me so and, whatever you think of him secretly, you have always granted him one great achievement: he brought the civil wars to an end. Do you want them to break out again?"

Then he marshalled his facts or information. It was not just a matter of loose or seditious talk, though that was bad enough. But Agrippina had been holding dinner-parties attended by senators whom she supposed to be disaffected and, worse than that, she and Nero had been concocting plans to slip away from Rome and join the legions in Germany, where Germanicus' memory was still especially revered. Then it would be, Sejanus said, like Caesar crossing the Rubicon into Italy. With the German legions behind them, they could march on the capital and dictate terms.

"We are as close to civil war as that."

I hesitated.

"Your agents," I said. "You know how I distrust espionage, for agents have a habit of telling their masters what they think will please them."

"True, but I have two agents whose evidence is, I think you will agree, incontrovertible."

"If that is so, then… who are they?"

"The first is Drusus."

"Drusus? Why should he inform against his mother and brother?"

Sejanus smiled, like a great cat playing with a mouse.

"Oh he has several reasons. O ne, he is jealous, because Nero is the elder. Two, he hates his brother and is disgusted by his addiction to vice. Our Drusus is a nasty little prig, you know. Three, he is ambitious. He hopes, with Nero out of the way, that he himself may be your successor."

"I would rather be succeeded by a pig than by Drusus. It seems to me that his evidence is suspect, Sejanus, for it is founded on animosity and chimes too well with what he thinks are his own interests."

"That's as may be. And it might be suspect, if it was not corroborated." "By whom?"

"By his sister-in-law, Livia Julia, little Nero's wife. Her husband does not love her of course, but they are apparently on friendly terms. I should say perhaps they are on friendly terms by my instructions, relayed through my dear Julia Livilla, the girl's mother. She early realised that little Livvy was disgusted by her husband's preference for men, and regarded it as an insult to her own charms. And what girl wouldn't? But she has the sense, and the self-control, not to show her feelings, and little Nero is a blabbermouth, with no more idea of security than a pigeon. She knows about his dealings with the German armies and whatever she knows she tells her mother, who passes it on to me. So, you see, Caesar, it's not just a matter of paid informers this time. And don't forget that, though we dropped the poisoning charge laid against Agrippina's friend Claudia Pulchra, I have always said that was a mistake. You can't know what a relief it is to me to have you here, on this island, but even here, you may not be completely safe."