The freedman acknowledged that this was so.
“And now, C?sar,” said Sc?vinus, “to be perfectly frank, as indeed the occasion demands, I have a special reason for being generous, if it is generous to give what is scarcely one’s own. My affairs are not prosperous, and my creditors have begun to press me. Legacies would be of no use if there should be a balance on the wrong side when my estate is wound up; services have been rendered me which it was a matter of honour to repay, and I felt that I could do it only by gifts.”
The accused spoke so calmly and coolly, and with [248] such an appearance of frankness, that the Emperor was staggered.
“It is the Epicharis case over again,” he said to Tigellinus, who had by this time been summoned. “People seem to be making a trade of these lying accusations. They shall find that they are not to my taste.”
Sc?vinus saw his advantage, and pursued it. “I ask you, C?sar, to protect me against the unfaithfulness and falsehood of this man, this villain, who owes to me all that he has, and now seeks to raise himself higher on the ruins of my fortune. About other things I care not so much, but it is terrible that he should seek to make a profit for himself out of the loss of my honour. C?sar, I implore your protection against him.”
“And you shall have it, Sc?vinus,” said the Emperor. “As for you,” he went on in a voice of thunder, turning to the freedman, “you have a patron who is far too good for you. Henceforth he will treat you, I hope, as you deserve. He has my leave to squeeze out of you again all that he has given you, to the uttermost drop. Assuredly it was the unhappiest hour of your life when you came to me with this cock-and-bull story of a dagger and bandages. And now, Tigellinus,” he went on, “it is time to be getting ready for the Circus.”
The freedman stood struck dumb with disappointment and dismay. But his wife did not lose her courage and presence of mind.
[249] “Ask him,” she whispered, “whether he has not lately had many conferences with Natalis, and whether he is not an intimate friend of Caius Piso’s.”
The freedman caught eagerly at the suggestion. “C?sar,” said he, “ask Sc?vinus what dealings he has lately had with Natalis and Caius Piso.”
Sc?vinus could not repress a start when he heard the names of two of the most prominent conspirators thus openly joined with his own, and the start did not escape the watchful eye of Tigellinus.
“There may be more in this, Sire, than you think,” he whispered in Nero’s ear. “Natalis is a notorious busy-body, and Piso is the most dangerous man in Rome.”
“What do you advise, then?” asked the Emperor, impressed by his Minister’s earnestness.
“Send for Natalis,” replied Tigellinus, “and question him; but don’t question him in the presence of the accused. Ask them separately what they have been interesting themselves in; if there is anything that they don’t want to have known, they will certainly contradict each other.”
The suggestion was immediately carried out. Natalis, arrested just as he was setting out for the Circus, and having a dagger actually concealed upon his person, lost his presence of mind. Interrogated by Tigellinus as to the business discussed at recent interviews with Sc?vinus, with a scribe sitting close by to take down his words, he hesitated and stam- [250] mered. His invention seemed to fail him as well as his courage. At last he managed to blunder out a few words to the effect that Sc?vinus had been consulting him about the best way of investing some sums of money which would shortly be coming in to him from the paying off of sundry mortgages and loans. This was a peculiarly unlucky venture in the face of Sc?vinus’ recent confession of poverty. Tigellinus smiled an evil smile as he listened. Natalis caught the look, and stammered worse than ever, for he knew that he had blundered.
“Thank you, my friend,” said the Minister in the blandest of voices. “I am sure that the Senator Sc?vinus is a lucky man to have so admirable an adviser. Still you will pardon me for saying that you are a trifle obscure in your description. It will be instructive to call in the Senator himself, and hear his account of the matter.”
Sc?vinus accordingly was brought in. The look of terror which came over his face as soon as he caught sight of Natalis was as good as a confession. Tigellinus, who hated him, as he hated every man better born and better bred than himself, smiled again.
“The Emperor,” he began, in his soft, unctuous voice, “who feels a paternal interest in the affairs of his subjects, is anxious to know what was the subject of discussion when you were closeted yesterday so long with our friend Natalis.”
[251] Sc?vinus, who had by this time recovered his self-possession, answered without hesitation. His course was, it need hardly be said, clear before him. Indeed, he congratulated himself on the happy thought of having pleaded his poverty to the Emperor.
“I was consulting my friend about raising a loan on more moderate interest than what I am now paying.” The Emperor laughed outright.
“Scribe,” said Tigellinus to the slave who had been taking down the depositions in shorthand�for shorthand was an art well known to the Romans by that time,�“scribe, read aloud the answer of Antonius Natalis.”
“One of you has certainly lied,” said Tigellinus, “and probably both; but there are means of making you speak the truth.”
He made a sign to a guard who stood at the door of the apartment. In a few minutes half-a-dozen slaves appeared, bringing with them a rack and other instruments of torture.
Sc?vinus started at the sight. “C?sar,” he cried, “is this with your permission? Torture to a Senator of Rome!”
“Silence, villain!” said the Minister. “You know that when the life of the Emperor is concerned�and what else meant you by the dagger?�all means of discovering the truth are permitted by the law.”
The slaves began to prepare the rack for use. Natalis lost all his fortitude at the ghastly sound of [252] the creaking beams, as the executioners worked the hideous thing backwards and forwards to see that it was in order.
“Spare me, Caesar,” he cried, falling on his knees, “and I will confess all that I know.”
Sc?vinus was not so lost to shame. He hesitated. He was even ready, if his companion had backed him up, to brave it out. But the cowardice of the other was contagious. If Natalis was to save himself by confession, why not he? His friends were lost anyhow; they would not fare one whit the worse for anything that he might say.
“Caesar,” he said, still striving to keep up some show of dignity, “if you will deign to listen, I have something to say.”
Tigellinus gloated with malignant pleasure over the man’s useless humiliation. A Senator, offering to betray his friends and refused! What could be more welcome hearing to a parvenu!
“Nay, sir,” he said; “we must observe due precedence. Every man according to his rank. In honourable things the Senator before the knight; in dishonourable the knight before the Senator. Is not that so, Sire?”
“Yes,” said Nero; “speak on, Antonius Natalis. Meanwhile let our honourable Senator be removed. It has already been very interesting to observe how his account of things differed from his confederate’s, and it may be interesting again.”
________________________________________
VACILLATION
[253] SCAEVINUS � for we must do the poor cowardly wretch such justice as he deserves � had made an effort to save his friends, and, one ought perhaps to add, himself. While Natalis was being interrogated, he entered into conversation with the slave who had been told off to attend on him. The slave was a young man of mixed Greek and Asiatic race, with an extremely intelligent countenance, but sickly and lame. It was impossible for any one with the least insight into character to look at him and to hear him speak without perceiving that there was something out of the common about him. In after years he was to become one of the most notable exponents of the Stoic philosophy, for this Phrygian cripple was no less a person than the philosopher Epictetus. At the time of which I am writing he was only a feeble lad with, however, a certain air of ability and courage which greatly impressed an intelligent observer. Sc?vinus, feeling that his situation was practically desperate, resolved to make a last effort. If it failed he could hardly be in a worse position than the present; if it succeeded it was just possible [254] that the fortunes of the conspiracy might yet be retrieved.
“Can you take a message for me to a friend?” he said in Greek to Epictetus.