‘It shall be done on the Ides,’ he said. ‘Send Julius Pollio to me.’
Tigellinus struck while the iron was hot, and the tribune was in attendance before Nero’s rage had had time to cool.
‘Bring Locusta here at once,’ he said.
The tribune executed the command, and Locusta’s green eye gleamed even more balefully than was its wont when the tribune ushered her into the Emperor’s chamber.
But Nero received them both with a burst of petulant anger.
‘You have failed me!’ he exclaimed. ‘You are traitors, both of you. While you are taking measures to shield yourselves you leave me obnoxious to the worst perils. I told you to provide me with a sure poison.’
‘We were but anxious to avert suspicion, Emperor,’ said Locusta, in the soft tones which involuntarily reminded the hearer of a serpent’s hiss. ‘You know there is a Julian law against murder and poisoning.’
The anger of Nero showed itself in mean, ignoble ways, and, like a bad boy in a passion, he was not ashamed to strike Locusta in the face.
‘Don’t talk of the Julian law to me, woman,’ he said; ‘as if I was afraid of the laws! Make me a poison which shall work like a dagger-stab, or you shall be ordered off for execution to-morrow on the old charges.’
Locusta shrank from his blow, and for one instant glared at him as though she would have liked to poison him. But she knew his power, and felt sure of his rewards; so she merely said—