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door of the house, torches glittered around her chair, highlighting her fiery curls and the malice in her jade eyes. I heard my guests laughing together, drinking my fine wine. Abruptly my anger seemed ridiculous. What Locusta had done was no worse than what countless married Roman women did every night, from lust rather than worthy ambition. I hardened my heart and took her in my arms. Locusta, I m sorry. I m delighted with the news. That s better. Her pink tongue caressed my lips. For a moment I thought you d turned into a weakling. No, I said firmly. That will never happen. Come inside. Let s tell the others of my good fortune. |Go to Table of Contents | Chapter IX DURING THEnext three weeks I worked myself into a state of high excitement and apprehension. All, as it turned out, for nothing. The performance at the Emperor s villa on the coast went off without a hitch. Nearly a thousand illustrious persons packed the small indoor amphitheater. Seated in the largest box was the boy himself I still thought of him thus, for he was barely past twenty, although his puffed cheeks, affected ringlets and sullen, swollen eyes lent him the look of a debauched man far older. At his side was the blonde strumpet Poppaea. She wore a gown of the sheer kind that had once cause Seneca to remark that such dresses neither afforded protection to the body nor concealment to modesty. Modesty, however, didn t seem to concern Nero. He paid more attention to Poppaea s ruby breasts snuggling against his ribs than to the show I staged down on the sand. Indeed, he paid no attention to his wife either. Octavia sat in an adjoining box. She was a pretty but frail creature, and she watched the show with obviously feigned interest. Next to Octavia, like a conspirator, was another, older woman, rather lean, with a thin and haunted face and dark hair in which dye could not conceal premature gray streaks. Nero s mother Agrippina. Frequently she cast disgusted glances at her son. Nero returned them with the blandest of smiles, free of all guile, even as he continued to openly fondle Poppaea s most private parts. By and large the notables assembled gave my performance a good reception, even thought their jaded appetites were not particularly satisfied by my exhibition of catching bear and deer with ropes. When I loosed half a dozen savagely yipping foxes and went against them alone with a sword, picking up a few wicked bites before I killed them all, the Senators and equites and their wives cheered. They liked blood. Not all, however. Seneca was in the gallery. So was the stubby Praetorian Prefect Burrus. Both watched glumly, disapproving of the gory entertainment. I also spied the tribune Julius in his glittering armor. He had nothing for me but unfriendly scowls. Ofonius Tigellinus was present too, occupying the box next to Locusta s. Tigellinus hardly gave an eye to the animal show. He fretted and fussed and exchanged sly smiles and remarks with my red-haired woman. Locusta was stunning in greenish silk that matched the color of her eyes. At the exhibition s end I accepted a garland and a purse from the Emperor. Gone were all fears of his recognizing me. Even now he hardly gave me a second glance. Meantime, Tigellinus was clutching Locusta s arm across the rail, and whispering earnestly. The audience broke up to return to the main part of the villa for the evening s banquet. I thought again of how Locusta had arranged for my appearance. How many hours had she spent doing it? While I was bathing prior to taking my place at dinner, one of Nero s masters of revels informed me that the name of the Cassian School would be high on the list when attractions were picked for the next Imperial games a few months hence. With that news I found I didn t care how much time Locusta had spent with the Sicilian. I would play the cuckold to hear such good tidings any day. Page 51 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html I hurried across the grounds to the white villa. The night was warm but blustery, promising a squall. Barges and other pleasure craft were moored at the wharf in the Bay of Baiae. Across the wind-chopped water gleamed the far lights of fine summer homes in Antium. Flushed with satisfaction, I was escorted to the great hall, where the feast was already in progress. Locusta had reserved a couch adjoining hers, much to the anger of Tigellinus. He was seated on a higher tier, immediately below the Emperor. The sovereign lolled in a purple chair, eating sloppily and directing all his attentions to Poppaea. Agrippina and Octavia sat on his other hand, rigid with humiliation. Neither touched the food heaped before them. Musicians drummed and piped. Laughter racketed off the walls. A hundred nude male and female slaves ran among the couches with solid silver winejars and trays overflowing with succulent foods. Locusta and I gorged ourselves on wine and fare like tiny hummingbird s breasts stuffed with a delicate spicy dough mixture. The party grew rowdier and rowdier. Since there was nothing shameful in open lovemaking, Locusta and I were indulging in a bit of it when there was a sudden fearful crash of pottery and metal. Heads swiveled. Eyed lifted. Tongues stopped. Agrippina was on her feet on the dais. She gazed down at her son, furious. All evening I ve watched your disgusting behavior. I ll bear no more. To run your hand up that creature s gown while your own wife watches have you no shame left? Poppaea sneered. Nero lurched up, stepping over the jars and platters Agrippina had upset. He seized her arm. His voice was wheedling and his smile looked false. Mother, pray don t embarrass us tonight. Me embarrass you! Your actions disgrace the title of Imperator, cover it with dung and Mother! Return to your place. He still smiled in a kindly way, guiding her elbow. Agrippina pulled back. Let go. The touch of your lecher s hand sickens me. Nero laughed, lips slack and moist. He continued to hold her arm. Agrippina s mouth turned white at the corners. I knew he was hurting her, but his tone remained gentleness itself. Mother, I insist you compose yourself in front of our guests. None of us here is without some stain. A flush spread from Agrippina s throat to her cheeks. With a ragged word or two none could hear, she turned away and sat down. The oblique reference to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |