Waki Waltari

The Roman by Mika Waltari

I was surprised to hear that there he had written accounts of several stormy visions he had had, although he is said to have calmed down after being allowed to return to Ephesus.

Nero punished the members of the committee for Eastern affairs by sending us back to Rome to see that the Jews there did not rise in armed rebellion. He said derisively that we could perhaps manage that, even if otherwise we had lack of ability. He could not dismiss us from the committee, since that was the Senate’s business, but to please him the Senate made certain changes, although it was hard to find new men who were prepared to sacrifice their time for this thankless task.

So I was no longer on the committee when Nero proclaimed Achaia a free kingdom and returned Greece’s independence to her. The political circumstances were not changed by this, as I had experienced in my youth when I had been a tribune in Corinth. On the other hand the Greeks would now have to choose their own governor, pay for their own campaigns and dig their own canals. Despite this, the measure roused immense joy among the short-sighted Greeks.

I noticed that Nero did not once mention the Roman Senate, but made it clear that Nero and Nero alone had been able to carry out such a declaration of independence. We had heard with our own ears, at the introduction of the building of the Corinthian canal, that Nero hoped that this great enterprise would bring fortune to Achaia and the Roman people, with no mention of the Senate, although this should always be said in official speeches. The correct expression is “the Senate and people of Rome” and so it will always be, however the times change.

So it was not surprising that I began to feel that Orcus was guiding my feet and that Charon was breathing coldly down my neck as I followed the Jews to their death. Many another farsighted senator had felt the same way, although nothing had been said, for who could trust anyone any longer? For safety’s sake, one of us always took a reserve of a million sesterces in gold on a cart when we traveled anywhere.

Nero did not even let us meet him in Naples. He wished to begin his triumphal procession to Rome from there since it was in the theater in Naples that he had first performed in public. Instead of a triumph in the ordinary sense, he wished to make his return to Rome into an artistic procession of triumph to give the people pleasure and a few free days. In itself this was politically wise, especially since the campaigns in the East had failed, but we were not pleased that we had to pull down part of the city wall for his procession. No victor had ever demantled such an honor before, not even Augustus himself at his triumphs. We thought Nero was beginning to show some unpleasant signs of an Eastern autocrat. That will not do for Rome, whatever an unwashed scamp of a boy writes on the decay of our customs.

 

 

489

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not only we, but the people too, and I mean of course all right-thinking citizens, shook our heads at the sight of Nero in Augustus’ sacred triumphal chariot, driving through the breach in the city wall and then straight through the city, followed by wagon-loads of victory wreaths, and instead of soldiers, guard of honor of actors, musicians, singers and dancers from all over the world. Instead of battles, he had had artists paint great canvases and sculpt groups of figures rep-presenting his victories in different singing competitions. He himself was dressed in a purple cloak covered with golden stars and had a double Olympic olive wreath on his head.

In honor of Nero it must also be said that he followed the ancient custom of humbly mounting the steep steps on the Capitoline on his knees to dedicate his best victory wreaths not only to Jupiter Custos, but also to the other important gods of Rome, Juno and Venus. All the same, there were enough wreaths left to cover all the walls of the reception rooms and the circular banqueting hall in the Golden Palace.

Nero’s return home, nevertheless, was not quite so agreeable as an outsider might have thought. Statilia Messalina was a spoiled and weak woman, but a woman all the same, and she would not tolerate Nero giving Sporus exactly the same marital rights as herself, so that he could exchange marital beds according to his whim of the moment. They quarreled so violently that it resounded throughout the Palace, but with Poppaea’s fate still fresh in his mind, Nero dared not kick his wife, and Statilia made the most of this. After a while, in his anger, Nero demantled his victory wreaths back from Juno, and other things which he could not do. In the end he banished Statilia to Antium, but that turned out to be only to her advantage.

Statilia Messalina relives that day today and grieves for Nero, remembering his good points, as befits a widow. She often demonstratively decorates the Domitians’ modest mausoleum, which can easily be seen by Mars field from the Pincian hill, near Lucullus’ gardens, where in my youth I saw the cherry trees bloom with Nero and Agrippina.

Nero’s bones rest in the tomb of the Domitians, it is said. There has been a good deal of trouble in the Eastern provinces over his memory. The people do not believe he is dead, but imagine he will come back again to remind us that his rule was a time of happiness compared with today’s tax-burdened State cupidity.

 

 

490

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