The loyal veteran who had recognized Nero on the road did not hasten to report his flight, as any sensible man would have done, but instead rushed straight to the Praetorian camp on his trembling old legs. There everyone knew his scars and reputation and as a member of the Mithras brotherhood, he also had the centurions’ confidence. The moment was as favorable as possible, with Tigellinus still in the Senate where loquacious men continued to express their rage and their patriotic zeal, now they could for once talk without being interrupted.

The old man made a speech to his comrades and told them to remember their military oath and their debt of gratitude to Nero, as well as the weals Tigellinus’ stick had raised on their backs. Both the Praetorian legions practically unanimously decided to support Nero. They were certain of his generosity, while Galba was known as a miserly man.

They decided to meet force with force and never doubted the result of the battle, for they thought many legionaries would desert Galba if they saw Rome’s elite troops set against each other. Quickly they sent a cavalry troop under the command of a centurion to find Nero and bring him back to the safety of the Praetorian camp. But the men lost much time looking for Nero’s hiding place, for at first they did not think of the freedman’s distant villa.

But Nero had had enough of power. He sent his freedman to turn back the cavalrymen as soon as he heard of their errand. Then Epaphroditus stabbed him in the throat, practiced as he was in certain games to which Nero used to devote himself. Nero evidently chose suicide by a stab in the throat in order to convince the Senate that he sacrificed even his vocal chords, so that no doubt should arise over his death. If later another great singer was to gain fame in the East, no one would even think of Nero, for it would be known that he had cut his own throat

As the blood artistically welled up from the wound, Nero, with the last shreds of his strength, received the centurion, in a broken voice thanked him for his loyalty, then turned his eyes upward and died with such a credible rattling and jerking that the seasoned centurion, tears in his own eyes, covered his face with his scarlet centurion mantle so that Nero should die in the way of Emperors, with his face hidden. Julius Caesar, too, covered his head to honor the gods when the assassins’ daggers riddled his body. Nero’s freedman and Epaphroditus now told the centurion that, for his own sake and that of all loyal Praetorians, it would be wisest to return to the camp with the news of Nero’s death, so that no one would do anything foolish. Then he should hurry to the Senate and say that in the hope of a reward he had followed Nero to capture him alive and hand him over to the Senate, but that Nero had managed to take his own life.

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The flecks of blood on the mantle he had placed over the body were evidence enough, but naturally he could also cut off Nero’s head and take it with him to the Senate if he thought such a deed compatible with his soldier’s honor. But even without it he could be certain of a reward for his good news. Nero wished his body to be cremated quietly and unmutilated. The centurion left his cloak behind as evidence, since the Senate would immediately send a committee to the villa to investigate the circumstances surrounding Nero’s death. As soon as he and the cavalryman had gone, the faithful conspirators had to move swiftly. It had been easy to find a body the size and build of Nero’s in these disturbed times when many lay in the ditches along the roads after the disturbances before Galba’s arrival. So the body was rapidly put on the pyre, the fire lit and oil poured over it all. Where, how and in what disguise Nero himself continued his flight, I could not possibly say. But I am fairly certain that he was taken eastward, probably to seek the protection of the Parthians. At the court of the Arsicades so many secrets have been collected over three hundred years that they could keep them better than Romans can.

Even in the Senate we are talkative. The Parthians know the art of keeping silent.

I admit that the unexpected increase in cittern-playing in Parthia is the only definite evidence I can put forward in support of my conclusions. But I know that Nero will never again seek power in Rome. All those who attempt this or try in the future, even if they have scars on their throats, are false Neros and we crucify them without hesitation.

Nero’s companions had got so far with the cremation that when the investigators arrived they were pouring water onto the smoldering blocks of marble so that they fell apart as lime and covered the remains of the body in a shell which hid all the features. Nero had no deformities by which his body could have been identified. The tooth he had had extracted in Greece had been removed from the corpse too, for safety’s sake.

The remains were wrapped in a white cloak embroidered with gold, which Nero had used that same winter at the feast of Saturnalia. With Galba’s permission, two hundred thousand sesterces were used for the funeral ceremonies. In a porphyritic sarcophagus in the Domitians’ mausoleum there lies a half-burned body in a lime-shell. Anyone can go there to establish that Nero is really dead. Statilia and Acte have nothing against people honoring Nero’s memory.

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