“Prostitution, adultery, witchcraft, and spells cast upon thee would be a good charge,” slyly advised the minister.
“Adultery with whom?”
“Some one of your enemies,—Furnius.”
“Furnius, Furnius?” said Tiberius, trying to recall the name. “Ay, he who writes lampoons against me.”
“Ay, make the people hold their tongues.”
“Charge them both,” was his imperious order.
“Then, O noble Tiberius, Cremutius Cordus, the historian, has written in his annals praises to Brutus. He has even called Cassius ‘The last of the Romans.’ Men are daring everything! Is this not a direct insult against the Divine Julius and the Divine Augustus? Shall annals be written lauding men who fought for the Roman republic? Let this stimulation of the republican idea once course through the veins of the people and the emperor falls, and with his fall the empire will crumble.”
“Who has told thee this?”
“My agents are everywhere.”
“Truly, O faithful minister, thine eyes never close. Duty has become incarnate in thee. Charge the historian Cordus with his crime. All thoughts of the republic must be stifled. Ah! even the Senate begins to act with freedom. But the attacks against Sosius and Sabinus will quiet that body. Behind their servile flattery, which I abhor, there lurks bitter hatred of me. Oh! verily must I leave Rome and its people! Not a moment of peace is found here.”