Waki Waltari

The Roman by Mika Waltari

“Do you believe that insane story of her descent too?” I said in surprise. “You, who are a sensible woman. Claudius never legitimatized her.”

“That was for political reasons,” said Antonia. “My father Claudius separated from Plautia Urgulanilla in order to marry my mother, Aelia, who was Sejanus’ adoptive daughter, as you know. Claudia was born five months after the divorce and out of consideration for my mother, Sejanus considered it unsuitable to give her the legal position of daughter of the Emperor. You know how influential Sejanus was then. It was to win his favor that Claudius married my mother. I remember that she many a time deplored my father’s behavior. But there was much talk about Claudia’s mother. I was much too proud even to acknowledge Claudia as my half sister in secret. But there is little left of my pride and so I feel the need to make good the injustice I did Claudia.”

“Have you too become a Christian?” I asked sarcastically. My question made Antonia blush.

“I am not yet initiated,” she said, “but I allow the slaves in my house to worship Christ. I understand you do the same. And I do not wish the ancient line of Claudians to die out with me. I am prepared to adopt your child if necessary, if you are not content with less. It might give Nero and Poppaea something to think about.”

I realized she was doing this more from hatred for Nero than from love of Claudia.

“On her deathbed,” put in Aunt Paulina now, “Urgulanilla swore the most solemn oath that Claudia was truly Claudius’ daughter. I was not a great friend of Urgulanilla, because of her depraved life in later years. But I do not believe any woman on her deathbed could perjure herself on such a serious matter. The difficulty from the very beginning has been that you who are of the Noble Order of Knights did not consider that you could marry a bastard. For the same reasons and for fear of Claudius, my husband refused to adopt Claudia. But in fact Claudia is legally both a Roman citizen and was born in wedlock. That would be incontestable if she hadn’t been the Emperor’s daughter.”

Claudia now burst out weeping.

“I don’t think my poor father even really hated me,” she cried. “In his weakness he was probably so influenced by the luckless Messalina, and then by the wicked Agrippina, that he dared not acknowledge me as his daughter even if he had wished to. In my heart, I have forgiven him that.”

When I in all seriousness considered the legal complications of the matter, I remembered how ingeniously I had made Jucundus into a Roman citizen by birth.

 

 

331

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Claudia was forced to live hidden in a country town for many years,” I said thoughtfully. “It would not be utterly impossible to have her name put on the roll of citizens in some distant town as daughter of a deceased father A and mother B, if one chose a town in which, for instance, a fire had destroyed the archives. There are millions of citizens in many different countries, and we all know that several unscrupulous immigrant Romans maintain they possess citizenship without being charged, because these things are nowadays difficult to prove otherwise. In that way, I should be able to marry Claudia.”

“Don’t try any alphabets on me,” said Claudia angrily. “My father was Tiberius Claudius Drusus and my mother was Plautia Urgulanilla. But thank you for agreeing to marry me. I accept your word as a proposal. And I have two respected witnesses to your suggestion.”

Paulina and Antonia hurried smilingly to congratulate me. I realized I had fallen into a trap, although I had really only been speaking theoretically about a legal problem. After a brief struggle, we agreed to draw up a document referring to Claudia’s descent, and this Antonia and Paulina would deposit as an unconditionally secret paper in the archives of the Vestals.

We decided that the wedding would take place quietly without sacrifices or festivities, and in the citizens’ roll Claudia’s name would go down as Plautia Claudia Urgulanilla. It was left to me to see to it that the registration authorities did not ask any unnecessary questions. Claudia’s position would in itself not change, for she had already managed my household for a long time.

I agreed to everything with a heavy heart, for I could hardly do otherwise. I was afraid I had now involved myself in a political intrigue against Nero. Aunt Paulina almost certainly had no such idea, but with Antonia it was different.

“I am several years younger than Claudia,” she said finally, “but Nero will not permit me to marry again. No man sufficiently noble would dare to marry me if he remembers what happened to Cornelius Sulla. Perhaps everything would have been different if Sulla had not been such a fumbling idiot. But he could not help himself. So I am glad on Claudia’s behalf that she as an Emperor’s legal daughter may marry, even if in secret. Your cunning, my dear Minutus, your unscrupulousness and your wealth will perhaps compensate for the other qualities I should have wished to see in Claudia’s husband. Remember that you are binding yourelf to both the Claudians and the Plautians by this marriage.”

 

 

332

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264 265 266 267 268 269 270