Tiberius

the subject and subdue the proud.

'But now, fellow citizens, we must ask, not only where shall we find his like but, more urgently, whether it is proper that any one man, lacking his supreme qualities, should wield the same degree of power. For my part, I think it is a task beyond any of us. It is certainly beyond me. I was honoured in his last years to be permitted to share his burdens, and, believe me, I know their weight. I know what hard, demanding, hazardous work it is to rule such an empire as Rome's.

'Besides, I would urge you to consider whether it is proper that a state like ours, which can rely on so many distinguished personages, should commit such power to one man, and concentrate the management of the empire in the hands of a single person. Would it not be better, Conscript Fathers, to share it among a number of us?' The previous night Livia had asked me to rehearse my speech. I had declined to do so, saying that twice-cooked meat never tastes good, but I had given her the gist.

'They won't know what you mean,' she said, 'and they will be afraid you are trying to trick them. Besides, though you don't know it, they stand rather in awe of you. You've been away so much, you're practically a stranger in Rome, and consequently you have become an enigma. They will be seeking to uncover the secret meaning of your discourse.'

'There is no secret meaning,' I said, 'I am giving them their chance. Over the years I have heard, or come to know of, so many mutterings, so many protests at his concentration of power, so many complaints that the path of honour and glory in which our ancestors delighted is now closed, blocked off, that I wish to give them the opportunity to explore it. That's all.' 'All?' she said. 'They will be scared stiff.' Now, when I finished speaking, there was a prolonged silence in the Curia. It was broken only by a shifting of bodies and a few coughs. I resumed my seat, and waited. Nothing happened. When I looked at a senator, his gaze slipped away.

I sighed. Suddenly I was beset by abject appeals to take Augustus' place… 'There was no alternative' it was cried. I rose again and, making an effort to speak courteously, and not to reveal the disgust I felt, I explained that while I did not feel myself capable of assuming the whole burden of government, I was naturally ready to take on any branch of it that they might choose to entrust to me.

C. Asinius Gallus then rose to speak. I knew him for an ambitious man, but an imprudent one. His father had been one of Augustus' generals, but Augustus had never entrusted an army to the son. Moreover, I had cause to dislike, as well as distrust him: he had married my dear Vipsania after our divorce, and treated her badly, partly because his taste ran to very young virgins, and he often proclaimed that the body of a mature woman disgusted him. So, when he got to his feet, I prepared for something disagreeable.

'Tell us, Caesar,' he said, 'which branch you desire to have handed to you.'

'That is not for me to say,' I replied. 'Frankly, I would be happy to retire altogether from affairs of state. Yet I am ready to accept any duty which the Senate cares to impose upon me.'

'That's not good enough,' Gallus said, 'and we all know it. For if we nominate a branch which does not please you, then we shall offend you and since you already have the power, by reason of your tribune's status, to annul any decision we take, and since you have already shown your willingness to employ the power entrusted to you by the fact that you have accepted a bodyguard of the Praetorians, none of us is likely to make the sort of specific proposal you call for. Besides, you have misunderstood the nature of my question. It was never my intention that we should parcel out functions which, frankly, are indivisible. I only put forward my question in order to make it quite clear that the state is a single organic whole which requires that it be directed by a single mind. And who, Conscript Fathers, better than Tiberius, who has won such great honours, denied the rest of us, in war, and who has done the state, and Augustus, such service in peace?'

After this speech there was a general confused babble, as one senator after another (and sometimes more than one at the same time) protested that they had no wish but to surrender the power that belonged to them into my hands. Quintus Haterius even went so far as to cry out: 'How long, Caesar, will you allow the state to have no head?' – as if Augustus had been dead for years rather than a few days.

Finally, Mamercus Aemilius Scaurus, a man never without a sneer on his lips, remarked that since I had not used my tribune's power to veto the motion which suggested I should replace Augustus, he hoped that the Senate's prayers would not go unrewarded. His comment was greeted with acclamation. He smiled, pleased to be the object of general attention and to have forced me towards the unwelcome chalice. For Scaurus was one of the few senators intelligent enough to understand that I was sincere and it pleased him to destroy my hope that someone would consent to take up part of the burden, and so make it possible to attempt to restore the Republic.

I was beaten. Driven to power by a generation fit for slavery, there was bitterness in my heart as I indicated my acceptance. What was I accepting? Misery and back-breaking labour. What was I setting aside? The hope of happiness. 'I shall do as you ask,' 1 growled, 'until I grow so old that you may be good enough to grant me a respite.' That evening I was prostrated by a migraine. I dismissed the slaves whose remedies were vain. Sejanus stroked my head with a napkin soaked in vinegar.

'You shouldn't work yourself into these states,' he said. 'It's because you live in a world formed by your own imagination, a world where men still seek to practise virtue. But it's not like that. In your heart you know it isn't. It's just your obstinate Claudian pride that insists that other men ought to have standards like yours. You don't understand human nature. It's made up of wolves, jackals and lambs. And the occasional lion such as you.' 'What are you yourself, dear boy?' 'When I'm with you, I feel I might be a lion's cub. On my own I recognise myself as a wolf.' He soaked the napkin again.

'Is that any better? In the same way you won't admit the truth about the empire, though you know in your heart of hearts what it is. It's impossible that we should be an empire beyond Italy and the Republic at home. The two forms of government don't mix, and the Republic could never administer the empire.' He wiped my brow again.

'There,' he sighed, 'you're committed to it. You can't escape ever. Now you must sleep. I'll put out the light.'

2

Sejanus comforted me as no other could. He was no longer the happy, if circumspect, boy I had first known on Rhodes, but a man in the prime of life, of matchless vigour and capacity. His judgment was admirable, his industry extraordinary. But it was his buoyancy that I valued most. I am by nature melancholic, given to brooding and depression, forever conscious of dangers and difficulties. His sanguine temperament uplifted me. I had only to see him stride towards me, that frank and confident smile on his face, his whole air one of athletic well-being, to feel the clouds lift. He had, moreover, one other great virtue: he always, it seemed to me, told me the truth. This is rare, for truth is what men like to conceal from those who exercise power.

Of course, people were jealous and tried to turn me against him. My niece Agrippina, for instance, despised him for his comparatively humble birth, and lack of ancestors – as if Sejanus was not at least as well born as her father Marcus Agrippa. She was also forever complaining of his manners, merely because he did not practise polite insincerity. Others denounced him in anonymous letters, and Scaurus drew me aside to inform me that he 'knew for a fact' that, in his youth, Sejanus had been the catamite of the debauched moneylender Marcus Gavius Apicius, and that his fortunes were founded on this liaison.

'What's more,' he said, 'Apicius still makes him an allowance and in return Sejanus procures young guardsmen for him. What do you think of that, Tiberius?'

'You seem to forget,' I replied, 'that Sejanus is married to Apicius' daughter, Apicata, and is the father of her two children. I think that contradicts your malicious assertions.' Nevertheless my denial did not entirely convince me myself, for I knew Apicius and could imagine how desirable he would have found the youthful Sejanus. Nor did I believe that, as a boy, Sejanus would have resisted the temptation of physical pleasure. The second part of the accusation seemed merely spiteful. However, I arranged that a watch be kept on Apicius' acquaintance.

Concern with such matters was abruptly thrust aside. Word came that the army in Pannonia had mutinied. This was especially painful to me, since the legions stationed there had long been under my own command. Their complaints were manifold, also long-standing, for they were experiencing one of those periodic revulsions from service which may afflict even veteran soldiers. The ringleader was a fellow called Percennius who, having worked