Vespasian carried on running over his speech in his head as prayers of thanks to Jupiter Optimus Maximus were said and the sacrifices were cleared away.
‘Servius Sulpicius Galba,’ Marcus Asinius Marcellus said, once he was seated in his curule chair, ‘for what reason have you summoned the Senate on a day that we were not due to sit?’
Galba rose to his feet, bald, muscular and sinewy; his eyes glared around him, his jaw jutted forward and he held himself rigid as if he was about to address troops who had severely displeased him. ‘Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus,’ he bellowed, causing those around him to wince, ‘died in the early hours of this morning.’ With that he sat back down as if he had just announced the name and position of the most junior of magistrates for the upcoming year.
Uproar was instantaneous as all vied to be loudest in their grief for the departed Emperor. Vespasian, prepared for this moment, strode to the centre of the floor and demanded the presiding Consul’s attention.
Marcellus stood, arms outstretched, roaring for silence, which was slow to come, but eventually the senators settled with all eyes on Vespasian standing in their midst. ‘Titus Flavius Vespasianus,’ Marcellus said, his voice rough edged from yelling, ‘has the floor.’
Vespasian composed his face into the most sombre of expressions. ‘Conscript Fathers, I mourn with you.’ He looked around, catching the eye of many in his audience so that they could see just how deeply he felt. ‘But the time for grief must be postponed for the good of Rome. Rome must have someone to lead her in her mourning. Before we succumb to the deep sorrow that we all feel let us first do our duty to Rome as her responsible Senate.
‘Let us remember the indecision and inaction with which we, to our shame, marked the passing of the last Emperor; our prevarication caused the Guard to nominate Claudius, not this ancient House.’ He turned full circle, gesturing with one hand to take in the entirety of the Senate. ‘We were all of us to blame. Let us on this occasion, Conscript Fathers, reassert our authority with a decisive act; a course of action that none here can deem wrong as it was clearly stated to be the will of the late Emperor, just three days ago in this very House. Let us call upon the Emperor’s son, who, in accordance with Claudius’ wishes expressed in here, remains his heir.’ Vespasian paused, contemplating the consequences of his next line for Titus’ friend. ‘Britannicus has not yet come of age! Let us therefore call upon Nero Claudius Caesar Drusus Germanicus to come to this House at his earliest convenience. Here, Conscript Fathers, we shall ask him, no, beg him, to take up the Purple so sadly lain down by his father. If we can persuade Nero to shoulder the onerous burden of power, then, Conscript Fathers, we would have done our duty. Then, and only then, would we be free to mourn!’
Vespasian walked to his stool amidst thunderous applause as Gaius waddled out into the centre of the House, the nervous sweat lining his top lip betraying his unease at being so conspicuous.
Again Marcellus called for silence and when it was manifest he gave the floor to Gaius. ‘Conscript Fathers, my nephew has displayed two of the qualities that have made us Romans great. Unselfish dedication to duty and the ability to suppress deeply felt emotion in order to best serve the Senate and the People of Rome. I second his motion but I would add one more line to it: that, should Nero be gracious enough to grant our pleas, then we should thank him by voting him all the honours and titles that we voted Claudius throughout his reign so that he should begin his rule in no less dignity than his father’s ended.’ With a dramatic flourish of his right arm above his head, Gaius moved back to his seat next to Vespasian as applause came from every senator, each, no doubt, wishing that they had been the first to have moved such a sycophantic motion.
‘That seems to have got them going, dear boy,’ Gaius observed as he sat down with a flurry of hands patting his back and shouts of agreement in his ears.
‘We were only doing our duty,’ Vespasian replied, just managing to keep a sombre countenance.
They sat, with the rest of the Senate, nodding, murmuring, applauding or shouting in agreement where appropriate as, first, the two Vitellius brothers extolled Nero’s many virtues and the likelihood of him ushering in a golden age, and then Gaius Licinius Mucianus expounded at length on the necessity of coming to a decision very quickly. He was followed by Lucius Junius Paetus who begged Marcellus, with great rhetorical eloquence, to call an immediate vote; but before the Consul could do so, Marcus Valerius Messalla Corvinus took to the floor.
‘Conscript Fathers,’ Corvinus declaimed once he had received permission to address the House, ‘should we come to an agreement on this matter I would suggest that we contemplate how we carry our request to Nero. We can’t send too many delegates to the Palatine otherwise there would not be enough of our body here to welcome Nero when he arrives.’ Corvinus paused for a few moments as the senators reflected on the difficulty of getting the balance right. ‘I propose, therefore, that we remove these problems by sending only one man. Naturally the obvious choice to go should be the Junior Consul, who in the absence of his colleague is the most senior magistrate here. But then, Conscript Fathers, should not the most senior magistrate be waiting here at the bottom of the steps to greet Nero and escort him in?’ There were murmurings of agreement and worried mutterings that it was vital for the Senate to start off with a favourable relationship with the man they planned to make emperor.