I thought the clamor of the music had but disturbed the animals and distracted the crowd from some of the climaxes in the show, but this was only my personal opinion and I did not express it. I thought myself incompetent to judge the indifferent results of his efforts when my own had been so successful.

Despite all this, I was diepressed and had no appetite. As soon as I was no longer observed by envious eyes, I made an offering to my father and drank two goblets of wine. I sent my runner to find out where my father had been executed and the whereabouts of his and Tullia’s bodies. But they were not to be found, as I have already related.

I had to content myself with cremating Jucundus’ and Barbus’ remains in the morning on a hurriedly made pyre. I thought Barbus had earned the right to a pyre similar to my son’s by his loyalty and long service. When I had the last flames extinguished with wine, I gathered their ashes myself and placed them in an urn.

Later I put the urn in a mausoleum in Caere I had had built on the burial site my father had once bought. Jucundus was of old Etruscan blood on my father’s side and his mother, Lugunda, was of noble British stock. Barbus, on his side, had shown loyalty unto death, a sign of a certain nobility of mind. On the lid of their urn is a bronze Etruscan cockerel which crows eternal life for them, as you will see one day, Julius, when you go to Caere with the remains of your wretched, perplexed and unworthy father.

* * *

I was forced to take part in Nero’s banquet so as not to offend him by leaving early. I will gladly admit that he was very successful with the small displays he had arranged in illuminated places in the park—beautiful dancing, satyrs chasing nymphs among the bushes, a scene with Apollo and Daphne, and other things which might entertain the people and encourage a more fastidious audience to frivolous thoughts. The meal was plentiful, with the help of the meat from the bulls, and the fountains filled the pools with wine which was unmixed with water.

As the instigators of the fire had received their due punishment and all had been atoned for, the foremost ladies in Rome, together with all the colleges of priests, had arranged a superb conciliatory meal which became the climax of the feast in the gardens. For this purpose both the most sacred white stone cones had secretly been fetched from their temples.

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They were now placed upon their sacred cushions in an illuminated tent, garlanded by the women and offered the traditional sacred meal, I watched with curiosity, remembering that the Romans had inherited this mystery from the Etruscans, and I fervently joined in with the holy laughter together with the senators and knights. The people were not allowed to laugh. Then the front of the tent flap was drawn across the opening and a little later the lights which shone through the canvas were suddenly extinguished without anyone touching them. We all heaved a sigh of relief at the success of the ceremony, which had been accomplished as tradition demantled.

While the stone cones, or the gods they represented, remained in the dark tent after the sacred meal, to embrace each other on their sacred cushions to the progress of Rome, Nero arranged a satyric play to counteract all this holiness. The only thing that can be laid against him is that he himself felt obliged to take part in it, in the belief that in this way he was gaining the favor of the people.

So, on an open stage, accompanied by profane wedding hymns, he had himself dressed as a bride and hid his face behind a scarlet veil. Skillfully imitating a woman’s voice, he then sang the customary lament. He was led to the bridal bed by Pythagoras, a handsome slave in bridegroom’s costume. A goddess appeared to console and advise the frightened bride. Whimpering with terror, Nero allowed the bridegroom to untie the two knots in the girdle and, virtually undressed, they finally sank onto the bed in each other’s arms.

Nero imitated a terrified maiden’s whimpers and squeals so well that the audience rocked with laughter, at which he went on to whimper with feigned pleasure, so that many noble ladies blushed and covered their eyes with their hands. Both he and Pythagoras carried out their roles so skillfully that it looked as if they had practiced the scene beforehand.

Nevertheless, Poppaea was so angry about this display that shortly afterward she left the banquet. An additional reason was, of course, that she was three months pregnant again and had to be careful of her health, and the exciting daylong circus show had fatigued her.

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