that Epaphroditus had feathered his own nest at my expense, that was his business.
In fact Nero was attracted by the idea of showing his power to the Noble Order of Knights by having Epaphroditus’ name put in the rolls of the temple of Castor and Pollux. He was clever enough to know what such a measure would yield in the African provinces. He would show in this way that Roman citizens were equal under his rule, regardless of the color of their skin and their origins, and that he really was without prejudice.
So everything was successful. At the same time, Nero gave his consent to Sabina and Epaphroditus marrying and adopting the boy who had hitherto been registered as my son.
“But I’ll allow him to go on using the name Lausus in memory of you, noble Manilianus,” said Nero mockingly. “It is nice of you to hand over the boy completely to his mother and stepfather. It shows that you respect mother love and ignore your own feelings, although the boy is as like you as two peas in a pod.”
If I thought I had played a joke on Sabina by off-loading the burden of the menagerie on to her, then I was deceiving myself. Nero took a liking for Epaphroditus and had even his most exorbitant bills paid. Epaphroditus saw to it that the animals in the new menagerie in the Golden Palace were to drink out of marble troughs, and the panther cages had silver bars. Nero paid without a murmur, although I had had to pay the huge water bills from my own pocket when the city water supplies had been reorganized after the fire.
Epaphroditus knew how to arrange certain special animal displays for Nero which amused Nero, but I cannot describe them for reasons of decency. In a very short time Epaphroditus became a wealthy man and one of Nero’s favorites, thanks to the menagerie.
My dismissal put an end to the stone-throwing at me in the streets. People began to laugh at me instead and I regained some of my former friends, who magnanimously considered they ought to show pity for me now that I had fallen into disfavor and was an object of fun. I did not complain, for it is better to be laughed at than to be hated by everyone. Claudia, of course, being a woman, did not understand my reasonable attitude, but begged me to improve my reputation for the sake of my son. I tried to be tolerant toward her.
My patience was stretched to breaking point. In her maternal pride, Claudia wished to invite both Antonia and Rubria, the eldest of the Vestals, to your naming day so that I should legitimatize you in front of them, since old Paulina had died in the fire and could not be our witness. Claudia had realized what the destruction of the Vestal archives meant.
She said that it would be kept secret, of course, but in any case wanted a couple of reliable Christian men to be present. Time and time again she told me that the Christians more than anyone else had learned to keep their mouths shut because of their secret meetings. I thought they were the worst informers and chatterboxes. And Antonia and Rubria were women. To initiate them into it all seemed to me to be the same as getting up on the roof and shouting out my son’s descent all over the city.
But Claudia was stubborn, despite my warnings. Of course in itself, it was a great honor that Antonia, Claudius’ legal daughter, should acknowledge Claudia as her half sister and also take you and give you the name Antonianus in memory of both herself and your great ancestor Marcus Antonius. It was more frightening that she promised to remember you in her will.
“Don’t even talk about wills,” I cried, to keep her off the subject. “You are many years younger than Claudia and a woman in the best years of her life. In fact we are contemporaries, but Claudia is over forty, since she is about five years older than I am. I shall not even consider making a will for many years yet.”
Claudia did not like my remark, but Antonia stretched her slim body and gave me a veiled look with her arrogant eyes.
“I think I’m quite well preserved for my age,” she said, “although your Claudia is beginning to look a little worn, if one can put it that way. Sometimes I miss the company of a lively man. I am lonely after my marriages, which both ended in murder, for people are afraid of Nero and avoid me. If only they knew.”
I saw that she was burning to talk abut something. Claudia also became inquisitive. Only old Rubria smiled her wise old Vestal smile. We did not have to encourage Antonia much for her to tell us with feigned modesty that with great tenacity Nero had several times asked her to be his consort.
“Naturally I could not agree to that,” said Antonia. “I told him straight out that my half brother Britannicus and my half sister Octavia stood out all too clearly in my mind. Out of sensitivity, I said nothing of his mother, Agrippina, although as niece of my father she was my cousin and so a cousin of yours, my dearest Claudia.”
At the memory of Agrippina’s death I had a sudden attack of coughing and Claudia had to thump me on the back and warn me against emptying my wine goblet with such haste. I was wise enough to remember my father’s unfortunate fate when he had in his confusion in the Senate brought about his own ruin.
Still coughing, I asked Antonia what Nero had given as a reason for his proposal. She fluttered her blue- shadowed eyes and looked down at the floor.
“Nero told me that he had loved me secretly for a long time,” she said. “He said that that was the only reason why he had borne such a grudge against my dead husband Cornelius Sulla, whom he thought was much too unenterprising a husband for me. Perhaps that excuses his behavior toward Sulla, although officially he stated only political reasons for having Sulla murdered in our modest home in Massilia. Between ourselves, I can admit that my husband had in fact secret connections with the commantlers of the legions in Germany.”
When she had in this way shown that she completely trusted us as her relatives, she went on: “I am woman enough to be a little touched by Nero’s open admission. It’s a pity that he’s so untrustworthy and that I hate him so bitterly, for he can be sympathetic when he wants to be. But I kept my head and referred to the age difference between us, although it is no greater than that between you and Claudia. I have been used to regarding Nero as a nasty boy since childhood. And naturally, the memory of Britannicus is an insurmountable obstacle, even if I might forgive him for what he did to Octavia. Octavia was herself responsible in that she seduced Anicetus.”
I did not tell her what a clever actor Nero could be when it was a question of his own advantage. With his position in mind, it would of course have been very valuable with regard to the Senate and the people if he were able to be allied to the Claudians in yet a third way through Antonia.
The thought of this depressed me and in my heart I did not want you ever to be disgraced in public by your father’s descent. By secret means I had acquired the letters, together with other documents, which my father, before I was born, had written but had never sent to Tullia from Jerusalem and Galilee. From them it appeared that my father, seriously confused by his unhappy love, through a forged will and Tullia’s betrayal of him, had descended to believing everything the Jews had told him, even hallucinations. The saddest thing from my point of view was that the letters revealed my mother’s past. She was no more than a simple acrobatic dancer whom my father had freed. No more was known about her descent than that she came from the Greek islands.
So her statue in Myrina in Asia and all the papers my father had acquired in Antioch on her descent were simply dust thrown in people’s eyes to ensure my future. The letters made me wonder whether I was even born in wedlock or whether my father, after my mother’s death, had acquired the evidence by bribing the authorities in Damascus. Thanks to Jucundus, I myself had found how easy it was to arrange such things if one had money and influence.
I had not mentioned my father’s letters and documents to Claudia. Among the papers, which from a financial point of view were very valuable, there were also a number of notes in Aramaic on the life of Jesus of Nazareth, written by a Jewish customs official who had been an acquaintance of my father’s. I felt I could not destroy them, so I hid them away together with the letters in my most secret hiding place where I had certain papers which would not tolerate the light of day.
I tried to overcome my depression and raised my goblet in honor of Antonia because she had so sensitively succeeded in repudiating Nero’s approaches. She finally admitted that she had given him a kiss or two, in a sisterly way, so that he would not be too indignant at her refusal.
Antonia forgot her harassing suggestions about remembering you in her will. We took you on our knees in turn, despite your violent kicks and screams. So you received the names Clement Claudius Antonianus Manilianus, and that was a sufficiently burdensome heritage for an infant. I gave up my idea of calling you Marcus as well, in memory of my father, which I had thought of doing before Antonia came with her suggestion.
When Antonia left for home in her sedan that night she took farewell of me with a sisterly kiss, as we were legally if also secretly related to one another, and asked me to call her sister-in-law in future when we met alone. Warmed by her friendliness, I eagerly returned her kiss. I did so gladly. I was a trifle drunk.
Again she complained of her loneliness and hoped that I, now that we were related, would come and see her sometimes. I did not necessarily have to take Claudia with me since she had so much to do with the boy, and our large house and her years were probably beginning to weigh on her. She was, however, by descent the most noble
