“Thank the gods, thou hast at last appeared, O faithful minister!” said Tiberius, giving a deep sigh of relief.
Chapter VI
LIKE a flabby, living tumor, with slimy, infernal eyes and terrific sucking tentacles that draw like death, that most repulsive and revolting of all animals, the octopus, folds itself in the shadowy recesses of a rock. It floats on the waters. It hides amidst the foliage of the sea. With the quintessence of cunning it watches and waits for its prey. The sucking arms dart out like a flash at the approach of a victim, which, after a short struggle, is ground to pieces in the rapacious jaws of the monster. After the meal the swelling paunch palpitates with satisfaction. The octopus then retreats, and awaits the appearance of another victim. When another one of its own ilk draws near, it makes of that other a companion, but in the companionship the stronger rules the weaker. A compact is formed. They repose, watch, and work together.
Such a nefarious compact existed between Tiberius and Sejanus. They skilfully watched, cunningly deceived, and malignantly intrigued together. Both were fearless, yet they worked their designs in a cowardly manner. With evil instinct Tiberius divined the true nature of Sejanus. The true pulsations of the inner heart of Sejanus, in spite of his different moods and actions, were known and felt by Tiberius. No gentle testing was needed between two such natures. They met and immediately recognized each other. No circumlocution was necessary; they spoke directly and plainly. As two equally pitched sounds of a discordant note vibrate in unison and assimilate, so did these two natures. Malignity, violence, and cruelty were the sounds they made and heard with equal zest and intelligence. But day by day the emperor and the minister became more dependent the one upon the other. Their plans grew more intricate and complicated. They became as necessary to each other as the two syllables are to form the words e-vil, en-vy, and mur-der.
Although these men belonged to the same vicious class, yet they were different in kind. Tiberius could be rash; Sejanus must be cautious. Of noble descent, Tiberius was base and mean; of low origin, Sejanus assumed an air of nobility. The one was slow, rough, and plain; the other, quick, smooth, and pompous. When they were together, Tiberius seemed inferior. There was more vigor in the wickedness of Sejanus. He was more elegant, more precise, and more ornate in the forming and working out of his plans. Tiberius was uncouth, diffuse, and ordinary. In their infernal deeds Tiberius was barbarous; Sejanus, artistic. If they had been sculptors, Tiberius would have carved a brutal and screaming Fury; Sejanus, a sly and deriding Satyr.
Such were the similarities and the differences between these two men who controlled the destinies of the nation. What was the effect of their personalities on the empire and the Roman people? Only at Rome and in Italy were sowed the seeds of violence. The other portions of the empire tranquilly lived under the old laws of the Divine Augustus. At Rome the Senate was deceived into believing that the emperor was no more than a figure-head.
The Curia was apparently respected. All freedom and forms of the old Roman republic seemed to be in force. But underneath this seeming tranquillity sinister ideas were working. The Praetorian soldiers were brought together in one building within the city. Intimidation fell upon the people. Interference with the courts took place. But the most iniquitous system of espionage was promulgated. No house of an important citizen was secure from spies. Traitors lurked in the bosoms of families. Money was freely paid for information. As everything malignant was believed, false testimony multiplied. The courts were filled with trials for treason. The city became a festering mass of sneaking spies, unscrupulous informers, and infamous liars.
Sejanus had already greeted the emperor in the room adjoining the council chamber. With an air of satisfaction Tiberius had replied that the minister was gladly welcome.
“Why has the audience been dismissed so hastily, O Tiberius?” asked Sejanus.
“Sit thou down. I will tell thee,” drawled the emperor, as he slowly paced up and down the room. He added: “Life at Rome is unbearable. I long to leave the city and live where I can be free.”