‘No one will believe it. And, besides, I have just divorced her on the charge of barrenness.’
‘Say it all the same, Nero. Some person of importance must be induced to confess.’
‘Who would be so infamous?’ said Nero. ‘After all, Poppæa, you know she is innocent—ten times more innocent than you.’
‘Call me some infamous name at once,’ said Poppæa, bursting into passion. ‘And is it for you to taunt me? Was it not for love of you that I became faithless to my Otho? No,’ she cried, as Nero approached her; ‘keep away from me! I will return to the wronged Otho. He loved me. He will take me back.’ And she rushed towards the door.
‘Poppæa,’ pleaded Nero, hasting to intercept her flight, ‘forgive me. You see how miserable I am. I have no one to love me but you.’
‘And who could help loving you?’ she continued, weeping crocodile tears in floods. ‘Who could resist those golden locks, that lovely countenance, that divine voice?’
Her cajolery won the day. Nero played with her hand, and turned an inquiring look on the Prætorian Præfect.
‘I have it,’ said Tigellinus. ‘Send for Anicetus.’
Nero winced at the name. Anicetus was still admiral of the fleet at Misenum; but, since his share in the murder of Agrippina, Nero could never see him without recalling the image of his mother’s bloodstained corpse. He had practically banished Anicetus from Court, and when the sunshine of court favour was withdrawn from him, the wretch had sunk into contempt. But now his unscrupulosity was once more needed for a crime which was, if possible, still blacker. He had murdered Nero’s mother by violence; he was to murder Nero’s wife by calumny. He was offered a vast reward, and a purely nominal punishment, if he would confess and make it public that Octavia had treasonably tampered with him, to seduce the allegiance of the imperial sailors at Misenum, and that, in furtherance of her object, she had not stopped short of offering him her hand.
The infamous tale was published; and since Nero proclaimed his conviction of its truth, the world was compelled to profess belief in it also, although every man and woman in Rome knew it to be a lie. An edict was published proclaiming Octavia’s guilt, and she was banished to the dreary islet of Pandataria.