‘Jealous, mighty Prefect, on your account!’ quoth Plautia, sinking on a couch with a sigh, and the fitful mutterings of her laughter. ‘I can freely pay tribute to your invincible fascinations, but I am not jealous. Never allow your conceit to grow at such a rate, Prefect, or it will do you serious harm.’
‘There is no fear,’ he replied, biting his lip; ‘but whence did you know concerning Livia?’
‘A bird of the air brought it this morning.’
‘If I could net that same bird I would, perhaps, clip its wings.’
‘To what purpose, but the pleasure of playing the tyrant? All Rome must know, and speedily too, of the Prefect’s last move.’
‘That is true; but simply to teach him or her caution. Another time it might happen to be a more secret matter, premature exposure of which might lead to serious results. Bid your newsbearers be more wary, sweet lady. But you have not yet told me why you sent for me.’
‘Partly for one more look at you, ere you depart on your matrimonial expedition,’ she said satirically.
‘Do you also know that?’
‘It is part and parcel with the other.’
She rested her hand gently on his arm, and smiled in his face. ‘You are going to Capreae—to your Livia,’ continued she. ‘I congratulate you on the success of the whole affair. What follows then, Sejanus?’—she dropped her voice in a low tone—‘Tiberius is an old man.’