The killing was about to begin.
Four hours later, after Vespasian had sent repeated messages back to the Senate assuring them that Nero was coming once he had finished changing, the senators rose to their feet and applauded the Golden Prince after he had, with great verbosity and many shows of reluctance, accepted their pleas. Tears of gratitude were evident in many an eye in imitation of the tears rolling down Nero’s cheeks, as he slowly rotated with both hands pressed to his heart so all understood just how acutely he felt the emotion. Resplendent in golden slippers, a purple tunic embroidered with gold thread, a wreath of laurels worked from thin foil of the same metal and bracelets studded with all manner of precious jewels, Nero showed his modesty by sporting a plain white citizen’s toga. Of his humility all could be certain as Nero approached the Consul and, kneeling before him, pleaded to be allowed to address the Senate once again.
Fighting against a look of bemusement that kept on flickering over his face, Marcellus gave the floor to the new Emperor. Nero drew himself up to his full height, which was average, and passed his pale blue eyes over his audience, before arranging himself into the classic orator’s pose with his left arm across his midriff, supporting the folds of his toga, and his right down by his side, his hand clutching a scroll. Once he was happy with his stance, he heaved a couple of sobs and then cleared his throat of the heavy emotion before launching into a speech that within a few paragraphs had surprised everyone by its fair-mindedness and conservatism. All could see it bore no resemblance to his character and yet none wanted to disbelieve what they were hearing.
Nero affirmed the authority of the Senate, hoped for the consensus of the military, avowed that he had no animosities, brought with him no wrongs to be righted nor any desire for revenge and promised that he would not be the judge of all law cases and, also, that there would be no bribery within his household. As Nero talked on into the afternoon, Vespasian’s mind turned to his revenge. He scanned the lines of senators, each looking as if the weak, husky voice addressing them was the most beautiful sound in creation, and soon found the object of his hatred. Paelignus again almost jumped from his stool as he felt Vespasian’s gaze upon him and then turned into the full venom of his stare. As Nero worked himself up to a rhetorical climax, referring often to his scroll, Vespasian bathed in the thought of Paelignus’ humiliation and then death until, having peaked with the announcement that after Claudius’ funeral the following day he would meet with the Armenian delegation waiting in the city and, in one move, restabilise the Roman East, the Senate rose and cheered the Golden Prince who was now their Emperor.
The Junior Consul stood and motioned for silence. ‘Princeps, we have all been moved by your words that have so finely expressed the principles of just governance. I would propose that we should have your speech inscribed on silver tablets to be read out every time new consuls come into office as an example to all. What does the House say?’
With a unanimous cheer, accepting this inspirational way of honouring such a fine piece of rhetoric, the Senate hailed their Emperor. The cheering and applause went on and on as Nero graciously accepted it, again and again, with lavish hand gestures and expressions of modesty until, no doubt fearing for his dinner being ruined, the Junior Consul brought it to an end. ‘We look forward to taking our oaths to you tomorrow morning, after the funeral of your father. Until then we thank you for your time and will offer up prayers to all the gods of this city to hold their hands over you.’
Nero was too overcome to be able to reply; he walked with a quivering lower lip to the open doors of the Senate House. There, on the threshold, stood his mother, banned from entering the building because of her sex; Burrus stood behind her with a waiting guard of Praetorians. Nero threw himself into Agrippina’s arms and they embraced as if both were in rapturous joy.
‘What is the password of the day, Princeps?’ Burrus asked as the couple released one another.
‘The only password possible, Burrus,’ Nero replied, gazing at Agrippina. ‘Excellent mother.’
Burrus saluted and signalled to the guards to move aside as Nero walked forward to a thunderous ovation from the people of Rome, gathered in their thousands in the Forum. The Senate filed out behind Nero to share in the acclaim that the Golden Prince was receiving. Vespasian joined them, with Gaius, and watched the undeserved outpouring of love by the people, wondering for how long the words that Seneca had put in Nero’s mouth would stick there.
‘You shouldn’t have done that, bumpkin,’ a voice said in his ear.