She went, leaving the phial in his hands. He struck a silver bell, and ordered Tigellinus to be summoned.
‘I have decided,’ he said to the Prætorian. ‘Britannicus shall die.’
‘You will deserve the title of “father of your country,” which you so modestly rejected,’ said Tigellinus. ‘Augustus received that title on the Nones of February, more than eighty years ago; doubtless the Senate will confer it upon you soon after the Ides.’
‘But how is the deed to be done?’ asked Nero gloomily. ‘I shrink from the business even if it be necessary.’
‘What are you afraid of, Cæsar?’
‘The voice of the people. It can shake the throne of the greatest.’
‘How will the people know anything about it?’
‘Britannicus has a prægustator, just as I and Agrippina have. If that wretch is poisoned too, every one will know what has taken place.’
‘His prægustator is—?’
‘A freedman named Syneros.’