“But is there no other way?” she pleaded.
“There is no other way,” he replied impressively. “But why fearest thou? Be strong. Be brave. Trust in me. Tullia took this course to find happiness with Tarquinius. Clytemnestra gave up Agamemnon for Aegisthus. Art thou weaker than they were? In thy veins flows the blood of the mighty Marc Antony. Did thy noble ancestor tremble at the death of his enemies? Tullia and Clytemnestra were dissolute. Thou art an outraged woman.”
“Not so loud, O my love,” she whispered cautiously. “We may be overheard.”
“Where is thy servant Marcia?” he asked.
“She is within calling distance. Have a care,” she warned him.
He softened his tone as he poured out his passion. “I can no longer live apart from thee, O my love,” he exclaimed. “I love thee! oh, how I love thee! The gods alone understand a love that cannot be told. If all the openings in this room were ears, if all the sparkling objects were eyes, they would hear and see that I love thee. A dangerous love, sayest thou? Ay; but if death be the ultimate reward, I will be content if I have obtained thy love.”
As a sleeping child is wooed by the whisper of a mother’s voice, so Livilla succumbed to the loving words of Sejanus. They affected her like a narcotic. Her objections gave way, her nervousness disappeared, and her fear completely vanished. Her face, which at first was overspread with an unnatural pallor, gradually became flushed. Her eyes lost their frightened stare, and grew soft and dreamy. Her quivering mouth became firm and composed. Observing the change that was passing over her, Sejanus approached and took her in his arms.
“I love thee, O Sejanus!” exclaimed Livilla, abandoning herself to his caresses. Suddenly, as if struck by a happy inspiration, she asked, “Could we not leave Rome and live together in a foreign country?”
“Ah, but what corner of the empire could long hide the daughter of Antonia and the minister of Tiberius?” he asked.
“But, O my love, I cannot here in Rome become thy wife,” she cried.