me his favor if there were any particular oflicc I should like to have. He was even prepared to recommend me for a cohort command in the Praetorian Guard. I declined and said that I wished only to be his friend and companion, to learn the art of living. This pleased him, and he said, “You choose wisely, Minutus. There is no office insignificant enough not to waste a man’s time.”
In Nero’s favor, I must say that on those occasions when he was forced to sit in judgment on cases which he could not turn over to the City Prefect or Prefect Burrus, he judged fairly and considerately, limiting the lawyers’ verbiage and demanding written verdicts from the other judges to avoid ingratiation. After reading the three separate verdicts, he himself pronounced judgment the following day, according to his own opinion. Despite his youth, he could conduct himself with dignity in public, even though otherwise he dressed with artistic carelessness and wore his hair long.
I did not envy him his lot. It is difficult at seventeen to be exalted to the position of Emperor of Rome and rule over the world, constantly distressed by a jealous mother with a desire for power. I think that only Nero’s passionate love for Acte saved him from Agrippina’s influence and drew them apart, however bitter it was for Nero. But he could not endure his mother’s wounding words about Acte, and he could have made a worse choice, for Acte never mixed in State affairs and did not even angle for presents from him, although she was naturally pleased with what she received.
In unnoticeable ways, Acte also succeeded in subduing the Domitian wildness in Nero. She had great respect for Seneca, who secretly approved of the relationship since he considered it would have been much more dangerous if Nero had fallen in love with some noble Roman maiden or young matron. Nero’s marriage to Octavia was a mere formality, and they had not even slept together yet, for Octavia was still too young. And then, too, Nero loathed her because she was sister to Britannicus. To be honest, Octavia did not have many attractive features. She was a withdrawn, supercilious girl with whom it was difficult to talk seriously, and who unfortunately had not inherited the beauty and charm of her mother, Messalina.
Agrippina was wise and finally realized that her complaints and outbursts of rage only increased the distance between herself and Nero. So she reverted to the gentle mother, devoting herself to caressing and kissing him passionately and offering to share her bedroom with him so that she alone could be his best and nearest confidante. As a result, Nero was tormented by his guilty conscience. Once when he was choosing a gift for Acte in Palatine’s gown and jewel store, he innocently put aside a piece of jewelry for Agrippina, driven by a twinge of conscience. But Agrippina was livid with anger and pointed out that the valuables in the Palace were already hers, inherited from
Claudius, and that it was only thanks to her that Nero had access to them.
I, too, came up against Agrippina’s rage when, according to her, I did not report to her on Nero’s and his friends’ pranks and political opinions. It was as if this woman, for so long reserved and now corroded by her bitter experiences, had suddenly completely lost control of herself when she had begun to realize that she was not going to be allowed to rule over Rome through her son. Her face was twisted into frightening ugliness, her eyes glared like Medusa’s and her language became so obscene that it was difficult to listen to her. I no longer thought well of her.
I think the deepest cause of the rift between Nero and Agrippina was really that he loved his mother so much, more than was right for a son, and Agrippina had quite deliberately seduced him. So he was both drawn to his mother and repelled by her at the same time, and he fled from her into Acte’s arms, or found outlet for his hatred in alley fights at night in the streets of Rome. On the other hand, Seneca’s moral teaching kept his inner being in control, for Nero at least tried to appear outwardly as a worthy pupil. Agrippina, in her insane jealousy, made the great mistake of losing control of herself.
Agrippina’s only support, an extremely powerful one at that, was the Greek freedman Pallas, who considered himself a descendant of the mythical Arcadian kings and who, after serving the State under three Emperors, had developed such cunning that he never spoke to his slaves so that no one could then twist his words, but gave all his orders in writing. To me, the gossip about Agrippina’s relationship with him seemed unimportant. In any case, it had been Pallas who had first advised Claudius to marry her. Naturally the friendship the first lady of Rome openly showed to an ex-slave flattered him.
Pallas always regarded Nero as if he were a silly boy and took every opportunity to show how indispensable his own experience was to the care of the State finances. When Nero wished to lower the taxes to please the people and the provinces, Pallas pretended to agree willingly, but then asked acidly where the Emperor thought he was going to find the money the State needed, demonstrating with clear figures that the State would go bankrupt if taxes were lowered. However talented Nero was in other ways, he had no head for figures and regarded calculations as work for slaves and not worthy of an Emperor.
Personally, Pallas was a courageous man. It had been he who, a quarter of a century before, had risked his life by going to Capri to expose Sejanus’ conspiracy to Emperor Tiberius. His wealth was immense, reputed to be three hundred million sesterces, and his influence as great. He respected Britannicus and Octavia for their position as children of Claudius, and he had not been directly involved in Messalina’s wretched death. When he had agreed to take over the State finances, he had extracted a promise from Claudius that he need never account for the measures he adopted. He had demantled the same promise of Nero on the first day he came to power, when he had paid out from the State treasury the gifts Nero had promised the Praetorians.
But he was an aging, tired man and the administration of the State monies had not kept up with the huge development of Rome, but had become rigid in the old traditions. This I heard said in many quarters. But he still considered himself indispensable. During disputes with Nero, he always threatened to resign from his post, thus bringing chaos to the State finances.
“Ask your mother about it, if you don’t believe me,” he would add.
Seneca, who feared his own position might be affected, now made a determining decision on Nero’s behalf. With the help of the cleverest bankers in Rome, he drew up a detailed plan for the care of the State finances and a thorough reorganization of the tax collections, to the advantage of the State in the spirit of the day. After consulting Burrus, he had the Praetorians occupy Palatine and guard the forum.
“Are you the Emperor or not?” he said to Nero. “Summon Pallas and tell him he must go,”
Nero feared and respected Pallas so much that he did not wish to do this.
“Couldn’t I send him a written order,” he asked, “just as he always does?”
But Seneca wanted to harden Nero, however difficult it was for Nero to look Pallas straight in the eye, Pallas had of course heard rumors about this new order, but he despised Seneca the philosopher and schoolmaster too much to take it seriously. And since Nero wished to be surrounded by his friends, to have their moral support and approval when he appeared as Emperor, I also witnessed this unpleasant event.
When Pallas received the message from Nero, he was already under guard to prevent his sending a message to Agrippina. But it must be admitted that he appeared before Nero like a prince, not a flicker on his lined old face, as Nero, with delicate gestures, made an impassioned speech in his honor, not forgetting the Arcadian kings, and thanking him deeply for all his services to the State.
“I can no longer bear to see you becoming old before your time and being broken by the weight of your great burden of responsibilities, as you yourself have often complained about,” said Nero finally. “As a special favor, I shall permit you to retire immediately to your country estate, of whose excellence and luxury we all know, so that to the end of your days you can enjoy the wealth you have accumulated without the slightest mistrust or fault spotting your reputation.”
“I hope you will permit me, before I leave, to undergo the cleansing oath of the Capitoline, as is due to my position,” was all that Pallas could say in reply.
Nero remarked that in accordance with his oath, he could not demand such an oath of such a faithful and reliable servant of the State, but that if Pallas himself wished it, to lighten his conscience, then of course Nero had no objection. On the contrary. The oath would put an end to all the endless gossip which was circulating.
We expressed our approval with vigorous clapping, laughter and cries. Nero puffed up like a cockerel and smiled to himself in satisfaction as he stood there in his purple Imperial robe. Pallas contented himself with looking coldly at each of us in turn. I shall never forget his look, so full of icy contempt for us, Nero’s best friends. Since then, I have had to admit that a fortune of three hundred million sesterces is by no means disproportionate compensation for looking after the gigantic finances of the Roman Empire for twenty-five years. Seneca accumulated just as much in five years as compensation for his exile, not to mention my own fortune, whose size you will one day discover, Julius, after I am gone. I myself have not for many years bothered to find out even
