But my head was as if full of mist, so all I could do was to nod foolishly in reply. So Gallio enlarged on the point.
“Between ourselves, both Britannicus’ and Octavia’s origins are, to say the least of it, suspect because of Messalina’s reputation. But Claudius regards them as his own children and legally they are anyhow. Not even Agrippina would dare to wound his masculine vanity by touching on such delicate matters.”
I admitted I had heard similar stories in Rome before I went to Britain.
“But at that time,” I added, “it seemed as if someone were deliberately spreading these terrible stories about Messalina, and I could not take them seriously. She was young, beautiful and liked amusement. Claudius was an old man beside her. But I can’t believe the worst of her.”
Gallio swung his goblet about impatiently.
“Remember that fifty senators and a couple of hundred knights lost their heads or were permitted to cut their throats because of Messalina’s recklessness. And your father would hardly have otherwise received his broad purple band.”
“If I’ve understood you correctly, Proconsul,” I said hesitandy, “you mean that Claudius has a bad stomach and a weak head. Some day he will have to pay the debt we all have to pay, however much we sacrifice to his genius.”
“May it be as if you had never spoken those words aloud,” cried Gallio. “Despite his weaknesses, Claudius has ruled so well that the Senate can safely exalt him to a god after his death, even if it will rouse a certain amount of ridicule. A farsighted man should be quite clear in time who is going to succeed him.”
“Nero imperator,” I whispered dreamily. “But Nero is only a boy.”
For the first time, this possibility occurred to me. It could not but delight me, for I had been Nero’s friend long before his mother became Claudius’ wife.
“Don’t be frightened at the thought, Tribune Minutus,” said Gallio. “But to make it known so clearly is dangerous so long as Claudius is alive and breathing. To sort and gather up all the threads of fate and chance would in itself be useful if the same excellent thought occurred in the ruling circles of other provinces. I should have no objection if you went from Ephesus on to Antioch. That’s your old home city. Your father’s freedmen are said to have accumulated great wealth and influence there. You should speak well of Nero, no more. Not a single mention of the future in so many words. Be careful on that point. Those you speak to can draw their own conclusions. In the East there is more calculating political sense than Rome usually gives credit for.”
205
He let me think about this for a moment before continuing.
“Of course,” he said, “you will have to pay for your journey yourself, although I shall give you some letters to take for the sake of form so that you can meet the recipients in an intimate way. But “What you say, you say of your own free will. Not at my bidding. You are open by nature and still so young that no one will suspect you of political intriguing. Nor is it a question of that, as I hope you realize. But there are exiled Romans who are suffering the agonies of banishment because of Claudius’ whims and suspicions. They have friends in Rome. Don’t avoid them, for when Claudius is dead, all exiles will be pardoned, the Jews too. This my brother Seneca has promised, for he himself endured eight years of exile. The Emperor’s stomach trouble you can mention, but never forget to add that it is probably only a matter of harmless vomiting. On the other hand, stomach cancer has similar symptoms. Between ourselves, Agrippina is deeply troubled over Claudius’ health. He is a gourmet and won’t stick to a sensible diet.”
I was forced to conclude that Gallio was drunk on his own wine, since he dared to tell me such things out loud. He must have overestimated my loyalty because he thought that loyalty was an inborn quality in every young Roman. I too have wolf blood in my veins. But he filled my head with seething thoughts and made me brood on other things besides Damaris and Athens.
In the end he told me to sleep on the matter in peace and quiet and then sent me home. It was then late in the evening, but nevertheless a crackling fire was burning at the entrance of my house and I could hear the sound of noisy singing from within. I wondered whether Hierex had heard of my arrival and prepared some kind of reception. When I went in I saw a number of people, men and women, just emerging from a meal in my dining room. It was clear that they were all very drunk. One was dancing around with his eyes rolling and another was babbling away in some language I could not understand. Hierex was wandering about as host, kissing all his guests heartily in turn. When he caught sight of me, he was covered in confusion, but quickly regained his composure.
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