As he uttered these last words, he gathered in his right hand a part of his toga which had become loosened, and threw it over his left shoulder. This action caused the plaster on his face to loosen. A little watery stream colored with blood trickled down his cheek and dropped upon his toga. Tiberius pressed the plaster with his hand, which, becoming moist with the suppuration, he wiped on his greasy hair.
“Right well do I remember, O Tiberius, the cliffs of Capri,” said Sejanus. “There thou shalt be truly free. Ay, and respect for a ruler increases when his power is felt and he is not seen. But thou hast friends in Rome, O Tiberius,—friends who would die for thee.”
“Ay, thou art the only man who dost understand my wishes. I love and trust thee. I confide in thee as I confide in no other man. But what knowest thou about Drusus, O truthful friend?”
“Goest thou to his dinner this night?” inquired Sejanus.
“Ay; and thou?” asked the emperor.
“Business in the camp prevents me.”
“Always on duty, O faithful Sejanus! Would that others were as attentive as thou art!”
“I shall appear later,” he said. He paused a moment, and then continued, “But how can I inform thee of thy danger?”
“By Hercules! To what danger dost thou refer?”
“Thou wouldst not believe me if I should tell thee,” replied Sejanus.