“Hercules save me,” said Tullia, bursting into tears, “no one has ever called me a fishwife before. If you’re so offended by what I said about your Christians last night, then you might have said so straight out instead of sulking all evening. There’s nothing worse than a man who won’t speak out, but just remains as dumb as an ox for days and days.”
Several senators’ wives laughingly agreed in an attempt to smooth things over.
“That’s right, Manilianus,” they said. “You needn’t throw away your ivory stool just because of a little squabble. Stop this foolishness now and forgive Tullia if she’s hurt you in some way. You are man and wife, after all, and you’ve grown gray respectably together over the years.”
Tullia was deeply offended and snatched her festive veil from her head.
“Look for yourselves, you old gossips,” she cried, “and see if I’ve got as much as one single gray hair in my head. And it’s not dyed either, although I do use Arabian rinses, of course, to bring out the natural color of my hair. All that nonsense about dyeing it is just envy and slander.”
“This is a solemn moment in my life,” my father said to the centurion, “perhaps the most solemn ever. I cannot endure this female chatter a moment longer. Take me away from this dreadful noise as you have been ordered to.”
But the women were still all around them and the centurion did not dare order his men to make a way for them by force for he had already been reprimantled for simply touching Tullia. Besides, he was not quite sure what was happening.
When Tigellinus noticed the crowd gathering and the noise increasing, he pushed his way through to my father, his face gray with anger, and he struck Tullia in the chest with his fist.
“Get to Orcus, you damned bitch,” he said. “You’re no senator’s wife any longer and you’re not protected by rank. If you don’t keep your mouth shut at once, I’ll have you arrested for disturbing the peace and insulting the Senate.”
Tullia turned deathly pale when she saw that he was serious, but her sudden fear did not affect her pride.
“Servant of the devil,” she swore, in her haste remembering only the ways of speech of my father’s friends. “Stick to haggling over horses and fornicating with pretty boys. You’re overstepping your authority when you strike a Roman woman in front of the Curia. Only the City Prefect has the right to arrest me. Your own crude behavior will arouse more anger than my polite request to know what is going on and where my husband is going with his guard of honor. I’ll appeal to the Emperor.”
Nero had already reprimantled Tigellinus for mismanaging the arrest of the Christians and Tigellinus was annoyed about this. So he pointed to the Curia.
“Nero is still there,” he sneered. “Hurry up and appeal to him. He knows what’s going on.”
“Don’t throw your life away just for my sake, my dear Tullia,” my father warned her. “And don’t spoil the last moments of my life. Forgive me if I have hurt you, and forgive me for not being the husband you wished for. You have always been a good wife to me, although we’ve disagreed on so many things.”
Tullia was so happy that she completely forgot Tigellinus and flung her arms around my father.
“Did you really say ‘my dear Tullia’?” she cried. “Wait just a moment and I’ll soon be back.”
Smiling tearfully, she went across to Nero, who was looking discomfited, and greeted him respectfully.
“Be so gracious as to explain to me,” she said, “what kind of unfortunate misunderstanding this is. Everything can be remedied with good will on both sides.”
“Your husband has deeply offended me,” said Nero, “but that I can, of course, forgive him. Unfortunately he has also publicly declared in front of the Senate that he is a Christian. The Senate has removed from him his rank and office and condemned him to be executed by the sword as a public enemy. Be so good as to keep silent, for we wish to avoid public scandal. I have nothing against you. You may retain your property, but your husband’s property must be confiscated by the State because of his crime.”
Tullia refused to believe her ears.
“Well, these are fine times!” she cried. “Is there no other charge against my husband except that in his softheadedness he’s gone and become a Christian?”
“It is the same punishment for all Christians, because of their ill-deeds,” Nero said impatiently. “Go away now, and don’t bother me any more, for you can see I am in a hurry. My duty to the State demands that I lead the procession to the circus in my capacity as first citizen.”
Then Tullia tossed her head proudly, without a thought for the slack skin around her chin.
“I have a very varied life behind me,” she cried, “and I have not always behaved as well as one might expect a woman of my position to do. But I am a Roman woman and I shall go with my husband, wherever he goes. Where Gaius is, there is also Gaia. I, too, am a Christian and now acknowledge it publicly.”
This was not true. On the contrary, she had constantly poisoned my father’s life with her perpetual nagging and her contempt for his Christian friends. But now she turned to face-the inquisitive crowd.
“Hear me,” she cried out aloud, “you, the Senate and the people of Rome. I, Tullia Manilia, formerly Valeria, formerly Sulia, am a Christian. Long live Christ of Nazareth and his kingdom.”
To make doubly sure, she then cried “Hallelujah,” for she had heard the Jews repeat that word at their meetings at my father’s house during their arguments with other Christians about the different ways.
Fortunately her voice did not carry very far and Tigellinus covered her mouth with his hand. When the senators’ wives noticed how angry Nero had become, they hurriedly went back to their sedans, simmering with curiosity, to extract the truth of what had happened in the Senate from their husbands at the first opportunity. Nero only just managed to maintain his dignity.
“You shall have your own way then, insane woman,” he said, “as long as you keep your mouth shut. It would be just if I sent you to the circus to be punished with the others, but you are much too ugly and wrinkled to act as Dirce. So, like your husband, you may feel the sword, but for that you have the esteem of your forefathers to thank, not me.”
Tullia had made the scandal so public that with the best will in the world, Nero would not have dared send a dismissed senator’s spouse to the wild animals in front of the people. As the Praetorians led Tullia back through the crowd to my father, Nero vented his rage on Tigellinus and ordered him to have my father’s household arrested and to have every one of them who admitted to being a Christian taken straight to the circus. At the same time the magistrates’ men were to seal the house and confiscate all papers connected with my father’s and Tullia’s fortunes.
“And don’t you touch it,” Nero said warningly. “I consider myself to be their heir, as you force me into police duties by neglecting yours.”
The only thing that consoled him in his rage was the thought of my father’s and Tullia’s huge wealth.
Some anxious Christians still stood outside the Curia, hoping to the last that the authority of the Senate would save the condemned Christians from the horror of the circus. Among them was a youth who wore a narrow red band and who had not hurried to the circus to ensure himself a place among the always overcrowded seats of the knights.
When the Praetorians, with the centurion in the lead, escorted my father and Tullia to the nearest execution place, he followed them, together with several other Christians. The Praetorians discussed how they could complete their task in the shortest possible time and be in time for the show, and they decided to head for the Ostian gate and implement the execution by the burial monument. This was not really an official place of execution, but it was at least outside the walls.
“If it isn’t a place of execution, then we’ll make it into one now,” they joked. “Then the lady won’t have to walk so far in her gold sandals.”
Tullia snapped back that she could walk as far as her husband without any difficulty and no one could prevent her from doing so. As evidence of her strength, she supported my father, who, weighed down by his years, unused to physical exertion and weary from a whole night’s drinking, soon began to waver. Yet he had been neither drunk nor confused when he had risen to speak in the Senate, but had been carefully prepared for the event.
This was revealed at the search of his house. Obviously he had for several weeks been putting his financial affairs in order and he had spent his last night burning all his account books and the list of his freedmen together with his correspondence with them. My father had always kept quiet about his affairs and on the whole had not regarded his freedman’s property as his own, although naturally, so that they should not be offended, he had accepted the gifts they sent him.
