‘The tumult has been aimed at you,’ she cried, ‘not at me. What harm have I done to any one, that they should hate me? Do they hate me because I shall give Cæsar a genuine heir? Do they prefer the offspring of Octavia and some Egyptian flute-player? Be a man, Nero! It only needs the smallest display of resolution to suppress these disorders. But if you show yourself timid and incapable, the rebellion may become formidable. If the people despair of making you Octavia’s husband, they may make Octavia another’s wife.’
The daring and indomitable purpose of the woman succeeded. She goaded his timidity; she fired his rage. He sent for Tigellinus, determined at last to stop short at nothing.
With Tigellinus he needed no concealment.
‘Præfect,’ he said, ‘Octavia must at all costs be got rid of.’
‘Locusta is here,’ said Tigellinus, with alacrity.
‘No, no,’ said Nero, stamping on the ground; ‘I will not have the scene of Britannicus acted over again. I am haunted by too many ghosts already.’
‘Devise something,’ he said, impatiently, while Tigellinus mused. ‘Poppæa, suggest something to this fool.’
‘A charge must be made against her,’ said Poppæa, eager if possible to shame as well as to kill.
‘The last charge broke down.’
‘Nonsense!’ answered Poppæa. ‘Say that you have positive evidence that she has made away with her own unborn child.’