Waki Waltari

The Roman by Mika Waltari

Nero still had many possibilities left. Tigellinus had made out a long list which I later found in his secret hiding place and which also had my name prominendy on it. But I forgave him that gladly for the sake of our friendship. I was more surprised at how clearly he had recognized the necessity of executing certain key State officials when the revolt flared in Gaul and Iberia.

On the list were both the Consuls and so many senators that I was horrified when I read it. I was vexed that I had to destroy it for political reasons. It might have been amusing some time later to read chosen names from it to certain guests whom I was forced to invite home for my position’s sake, although I did not particularly wish for their company.

But Nero contented himself with dismissing both Consuls and taking over himself, since his sensitivity and love of mankind hindered him from putting into action the rigorous program which alone could have saved him. He still had the support of the Praetorians, thanks to Tigellinus. But this would have involved pruning the tree to the last branch and he thought that even the strongest tree would not stand such treatment.

After his artistic success in Greece, Nero had grown even more weary of his Imperial duties. Had the Senate been more reliable then, I think he would have gradually transferred a great part of his powers to it. But you know about the disunity in the Senate, and its internal envy and constant intrigues. Not even the most enlightened ruler can trust the Senate completely, not even Vespasian. I hope you will always remember that, although I myself am a senator and do my best to defend its traditions and authority.

Even so, the Senate is a better tool by which to govern the country than are the irresponsible people. To be a member of the Senate, certain qualifications are demantled, while the people blindly follow the man who promises free oil and arranges the best theater performances and the most free days under the cloak of new festivals. The people are a dangerous and unreliable factor in the sound development of the State and they can nullify even the best calculations. So the people must be kept in order and satisfied.

Nero did not want war, least of all civil war, which for all Julians with their bitter memories is the worst thing that can happen to an Emperor. Yet he did nothing to suppress the revolt, for he wished to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. He answered his critics by saying ironically that perhaps it would be best if he met alone the legions approaching Rome in a triumphal march and won them over to his side by singing to them. To me this showed that he might have had plans entirely of his own. It was not just empty talk that in his youth he would have preferred to have studied in Rhodes rather than take up politics. He had always longed toward the East and had never managed to get farther than Achaia.

 

 

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Nero knew more about Parthia than the usual military information concerning grazing lands, roads, springs, fords, mountain passes and fortified points. He also liked to talk about the Parthians’ distinctive civilization, although we laughed at him since to Romans the Parthians are and always will be barbarians until the day Rome civilizes them.

After Nero’s death, I thought that perhaps his talk about holding a concert in Ecbatana had not been entirely a joke. I have discovered that cittern-playing and singing are now the height of fashion in the aristocratic circles of Parthia. In that case, they are behind the times. Here in Rome, as the worst consequence of the conquest of Jerusalem, we have a constant jingling and jangling of Eastern musical instruments. Sistrii and tambourines, or whatever they are called.

Young people’s new-fangled music makes an aging man like me quite ill. Sometimes I remember the cittern-plucking of Nero’s time as a vanished golden age, although I am not musical, as I am always being told by you and your mother.

But it is just as incomprehensible to me that you have to have a slave behind you while you are studying, waving a sistrum or banging two copper saucepan lids against each other while a hoarse singer wails Egyptian street ballads. I should go mad if I had to listen to such things all the time. Yet you seriously maintain that otherwise you cannot concentrate on your studies and your mother is on your side, as usual, and tells me that I do not understand anything. No doubt you would grow a beard too, if fifteen-year-olds could.

Nero remained inactive, hurt by the lies and public insults he had had to endure. Galba’s troops marched victoriously and, thanks to Nero, untested in battle toward Rome. Then the day before Minerva day arrived. Tigellinus, to save his own skin, placed the Praetorians at the Senate’s disposal. First the Senate was summoned in secret to an extraordinary meeting at dawn. Not all the members who were in Rome received a summons, but only the trustworthy ones and naturally not Nero, although he had had the right to attend since he was as much a senator as the others and of higher rank than they. Tigellinus saw to it that the Praetorian guards and the German life guards were withdrawn from the Golden Palace at the changing of guard during the night.

 

 

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