Agrippina saw to it that Nero was allowed to take part in Claudius’ official banquets and sit at the end of his couch as near as Britannicus. In this way, both the nobles of Rome and envoys from the provinces became acquainted with Nero and had the opportunity to compare the two boys, the cheerful and delightful Nero and the sullen Britannicus.
Agrippina invited the sons of the most noble families in Rome to meals with both the boys. Nero acted as host and Seneca led the conversation, in that he gave the subject to each one of them to speak on. I suspect he gave Nero his subject beforehand and helped him with his speech, for every time Nero excelled with his easy, beautiful oratory.
I was often invited to these meals, for at least half of the guests had already received their man-togas, and Nero seemed genuinely to like me. But I grew tired of listening to speakers constantly peppering their speeches with worn-out verses from Virgil and Horace or quotations from Greek poets. So I began to prepare for the invitations by reading Seneca’s works and learning by heart his favorite pieces on keeping one’s temper, the brevity of life and the imperturbable calm of the wise man in the vicissitudes of fate.
Since meeting Seneca, I had come to hold him in great esteem, for there was nothing on this earth upon which he could not give a sensible, mild and considered opinion in his well-schooled voice. But I wanted to see if the wise man’s imperturbability also withstood man’s natural conceit.
Of course Seneca saw through me. He was not stupid, but it must have pleased him to hear his own thoughts quoted alongside those of the authorities of the past. I was also cunning enough never to mention his name in my quotations, since that would have been rather too crude flattery, but I just said, “The other day I read somewhere,” or “I’ll always remember a word… “
Puberty to Nero was sheer torment, and then he received his man-toga when he was fourteen. He carried out the sacrifice to Jupiter like a man, neither breaking down nor repeating himself as he read the sacrificial litany. The liver showed nothing but good omens. He summoned back Rome’s youth and the Senate agreed unanimously, without the slightest protest, that he should receive the rank of Consul when he was twenty, and thus as Consul, the right to a seat in the Senate.
At this point an envoy arrived from the famous island of philosophers, Rhodes, to apply for the reinstatement of freedom and self-government to the island. I do not know if Claudius had become more favorably inclined toward the people of Rhodes, but Seneca considered that it was the most favorable moment for Nero to make his maiden speech in the Curia. With Seneca’s help, Nero secretly prepared for it with great care.
My father told me that he had been astounded when Nero, after the envoy’s speech and a few sarcastic remarks from the Senate, shyly rose to his feet and said: “Honored fathers.” Everyone came awake. When Claudius nodded his consent, Nero moved to the oratory platform and enthusiastically outlined the history of Rhodes, the island’s famous philosophers and the great Romans who had completed their education there.
“Has not this rose-colored isle of wise men, scientists, poets and orators already suffered enough from her blunders? Is she not entided to her praise?”… and so on.
When he had finished, they all looked at Claudius as if he were a criminal, for it was he who had robbed this noble island of her freedom. Claudius felt guilty and Nero’s eloquence had moved him.
“Don’t stare at me like cows at a gate, my fathers,” he said sourly. “Make a decision. You’re supposed to be the Senate of Rome.”
The vote was taken and Nero’s proposal received nearly five hundred votes. My father said that what he had liked best was Nero’s modesty. In reply to all the congratulations, Nero merely said, “Don’t praise me, praise my tutor.” He went up to Seneca and embraced him in full view of everyone.
Seneca smiled and said, so that everyone could hear, “Not even the best tutor can make a good orator of an untalented pupil.”
Nevertheless, the elders among the senators did not like Seneca, for he lived like a man of the world and, according to them, had watered down the strict old Stoicism in his writings; They also said he was much too inclined to have handsome boys as his pupils. But this was not entirely Seneca’s fault. Nero hated ugliness to the extent that a deformed face or a disfiguring birthmark took away his appetite. Anyhow, Seneca never made any advances to me, and he would not let the all-too-affectionate Nero kiss his teachers.
After his appointment as Praetor, Seneca was mostly concerned with civil cases which in themselves were more difficult and involved than criminal cases, since they were concerned with property, ownership, building plots, divorces and wills. He himself said he could not bring himself to condemn anyone to flogging or execution. He noticed that I faithfully listened in on all his cases and one day made a suggestion to me.
“You are a talented young man, Minutus Lausus,” he said. “You are as fluent in Greek as you are in Latin and show an interest in legal matters, as befits a true Roman. Would you consider becoming an assistant Praetor and, for instance, digging out old precedents and forgotten decrees in the tabularium under my supervision?”
I flushed with pleasure and assured him that such a task would be a great honor. Seneca’s face clouded over.
“You realize, I suppose,” he remarked, “that most young men would give an eye to have such an opportunity to get ahead of his rivals in the line of office?”
Of course I realized this and I assured him I was eternally grateful for such an incomparable favor. Seneca shook his head.
“You know,” he said, “by Rome’s standards, I am not a rich man. At the moment I am building myself a house. When it is finished, I hope to marry and put an end to all this talk. I presume you administer your estate yourself and could pay me some compensation for my legal tuition?”
I drew in my breath sharply and asked him to forgive my lack of perception. When I asked him what sum he would consider adequate, he smiled and patted my shoulder.
“Perhaps,” he said, “it would be best if you consulted your wealthy father, Marcus Mezentius, on the matter.”
I went straight to my father and asked him whether, for instance, ten gold pieces would be too large a sum for a philosopher who loved modesty and a simple life. My father burst out laughing.
“I know Seneca’s modest little habits,” he said. “Leave it all to me and don’t worry about it anymore.”
Later I heard that he had sent Seneca a thousand gold pieces, or a hundred thousand sesterces, which in my opinion was an enormous sum. But Seneca was not offended but, if possible, he treated me even more kindly than before, to show that he had forgiven my father for his upstart’s extravagance.
I worked for several months as Seneca’s assistant in the Praetorium. He was absolutely just in his decisions, all of which he carefully weighed. No lawyer could bamboozle him with mere eloquence, for he himself was the greatest orator of the day. In spite of this, people who lost their cases spread rumors that he accepted bribes. Of course, such rumors were heard about all praetors. But Seneca said definitely that he had never received a gift before a judgment had been made.
“On the other hand,” he said, “if it is a matter of ownership of a plot which is worth a million sesterces, it’s only natural that the winner of the case afterwards should give the judge a gift or two. No official can live on a praetor’s salary alone and pay for free performances at the theater during his term of office.”
Spring had come again. Under the influence of the green grass, the warm sun and the notes of the cittern, the stilted legal phrases were banished from our thoughts by the lighthearted verses of Ovid and Propertius. I had been waiting for an opportunity to solve the problem of Claudia and it occurred to me that Agrippina was the only person who could do this with magnanimity and justice. I could not tell Aunt Laelia about Claudia, or Tullia-her least of all. One lovely afternoon when the clouds over Rome shone with gold, the opportunity arose when Nero took me to the gardens on Pincius. There we found his mother busy giving instructions to the gardeners for the spring. She was flushed with the warmth and her face lit up, as always, when she saw her handsome son.