But Livia worked strenuously for her son. Years before, the death of Marcellus had been accomplished. Now, while her son corrupted the youth of Rhodes, Caius and Lucius were both mysteriously murdered. Tiberius and “Little Agrippa,” as he is sometimes called, the third and last son of Agrippa and Julia, were then conjointly adopted by Augustus. But the young Agrippa was cunningly surrounded by such wicked companions that he became demented and was exiled to an island called Planasia. Thus Tiberius finally became the last reluctant choice of the old emperor.
During the mild reign of Augustus the malevolence of Tiberius was restrained. The sullenness of the heir was hidden behind the benign and resplendent deeds of the benefactor. But after the death of Augustus the accumulated evil that had been dammed up for so many years burst forth with terrific violence. The deaths of Marcellus, Caius, and Lucius were secretly accomplished. Now the poor Agrippa was openly murdered. The hand of outrage was then stayed, but for only a short time. The good and loyal Germanicus, the beloved of the Roman people, was the next victim. He was poisoned in Syria. But this only whetted the appetite for crime and intensified the thirst for blood. It seemed as if the infernal region had at last found a medium through which to pour forth its Stygian essences; for when Tiberius sat on the throne the Roman people became submerged in intemperance, felony, and licentiousness, confiscations, pillage, and robbery, envy, hatred, and murder.
Although he behaved deferentially to the Senate, prefixing his remarks when he addressed them with “By your leave,” “With your permission,” etc., yet that servile body dared not assert its rights, but cringingly obeyed his every request. He detested vice in others, but he himself was saturated with abominations. He also detested men pre-eminent in virtue, because of the unfavorable light in which they placed him. He financially helped some Senators, but others he mercilessly robbed and murdered. Few men were trusted by him. He was taciturn, and rarely smiled an honest smile. He was suspicious of every one. He hated flattery. Gladiatorial combats he prohibited; yet he watched men tortured to death with no nice compunction at seeing blood thus spilt. His soul was filled with evil which was reflected in all his acts. He was gloomy, revengeful, and unforgiving. He was easy to anger. He never forgot an injury. His acts of tyranny were covered by the cloak of hypocrisy. He was a heavy drinker, a profligate, an insatiable, bloody tyrant.
In the council chamber of the palace the emperor had just received a foreign delegation. Orientals clad in silken robes, embroidered with gold and silver, mingled with the high Roman officials, clad in their soft white togas bordered with purple. Both costumes were imposing in their different styles,—the one luxuriously royal, the other regal in its proud simplicity. Among the Romans present were the young sons of Agrippina,—Nero and Drusus. These young princes, grandsons of the Divine Augustus, were loved for their manly virtues and for the veneration in which their murdered father, Germanicus, was held by the Roman people. The simple and childlike brother of Livilla, Claudius, walked among the guests, smiling at the nods of recognition, as if they were great favors bestowed upon him. Drusus, the son of Tiberius, was present. Although he was angered at the wrong done him by his father in the Senate that day, yet he forced a respectful tone when he addressed him.
“Is not the audience at an end, O father?” he asked.
“Ay, my son, ’tis over; but I would see Sejanus before the delegation leaves.”
Drusus slightly frowned when the name of Sejanus was pronounced. But smothering his resentment, he said: “Thy presence, O father, is expected on the Esquiline this night. Fail us not. Many days have passed since thou hast honored my home.”
“Gladly will I be there, O my son,” said Tiberius.
“Let nothing hinder thee,” persisted Drusus.
“I will be there. But why art thou so anxious?”