‘I meant no offence, Cæsar,’ said Tigellinus; ‘forgive the faithfulness of a friend and an honest soldier who loves you. Do you not see what a fine young fellow Britannicus is growing? Octavia brings you no children. He must in any case succeed you.’
Nero paced the room, as he always did when he felt agitated; and, after leaving his remarks to work, Tigellinus added—
‘Besides it is not easy to divine the plans of the Augusta, with whom at present you are on such bad terms?’
Nero strode up and down with still more passion, and Tigellinus continued at intervals to heap fuel on the flames of his fury.
‘You heard the murmurs of applause which greeted his insolent song the other night?’
Nero nodded.
‘Do you think that the Prætorians are absolutely loyal to you? I have heard them talking about Britannicus among themselves. Pudens, I know, is a favourite officer of theirs, and he adores Britannicus. Supposing it came to civil war, do you think that you would be quite sure to win?’
Nero still said nothing.
‘Why not put an end to the difficulty? Rome is sick at the thought of another civil war. Every one would be glad if you put your brother out of the way. And really, why should you hesitate? You have attempted it twice already, only you have been unlucky.’
By this time the subtle tempter had worked the Emperor into a frenzy of wrath and fear. The crime had long been assuming shape in his mind, and in point of fact he had already incurred its guilt.