I and my fellow prisoners parted without regrets, for in the darkness, hunger and misery of the cave, we had become bitterly sick of one another’s company. While they returned to Antioch, I went on board a R. oman warship in Anemurium which was going to Ephesus. King An-tiochus compensated us generously for the sufferings we had had to endure, in order to keep us quiet.
In Ephesus, I was well received by the then Proconsul of Asia, Junius Silanus, who invited me to his country estate outside the city and had his own physician treat me. Silanus was about fifty, rather slow but so unimpeachable in character that Emperor Gaius in his day had described him as a gilded numbskull, because of his incalculable wealth.
When I mentioned Agrippina and Nero to Silanus, he forbade me to utter a single word about Claudius’ stomach trouble to him. A couple of prominent men had recently been banished from Rome just because they had asked an astrologist about the Emperor’s life-span. After that, the Senate had passed a bill exiling all Chaldeans.
Silanus seemed to think that Agrippina had in some way been responsible for the death of his brother Lucius, just as he thought that Messalina in her day had brought disaster to Appius Silanus by dreaming evil dreams about him. His insane suspiciousness made me angry.
“How can you think that of the first lady of Rome?” I said furiously. “Agrippina is a noble woman. Her brother Gaius was Emperor, and she herself is the wife of an Emperor and is descended from the god Augustus.”
Silanus smiled stupidly.
“Not even the most unimpeachable origins,” he remarked, “seem to protect anyone in Rome any longer. You must remember Domitia Lepida, Nero’s aunt, who brought Nero up out of kindness when Agrippina was banished for open lewdness and high treason. Domitia had always cared for Nero when he suffered from Agrippina’s severity. Quite recently she was condemned to death because she was said to have tried to harm Agrippina by witchcraft and because she had not kept her slaves in Calabria under control. Domitia too was descended from Augustus.
“And,” went on Silanus, “if time does eventually overtake Claudius, even if we may not discuss it aloud, then I too am descended from the god Augustus. I should not be surprised if the Senate in Rome preferred an older man to a half-grown boy. My reputation is without stain and I have no enemies.”
He was right in that, for Silanus was considered to be so stupid that no one could hate him. But of course I was surprised by his insane conceit.
“Are you seriously considering becoming Emperor?” I asked in amazement.
Junius Silanus blushed shyly.
“You mustn’t spread that idea abroad,” he said. “It is the Senate that decides. But between ourselves, I cannot honestly support Nero. His father was so feared and cruel that once in the forum, he gouged out the eye of a Roman knight who did not make way for him sufficiently respectfully.”
Because of his wealth, Silanus lived like a king in Asia. He also told me that Proconsul Gallio, after serving out his term of office, had fallen victim of hereditary tuberculosis and had returned to Rome to settle his affairs before going to the drier climate of Egypt to regain his health.
I suspected that he had other business in Egypt besides caring for his health. But I could not write to him to tell him of Silanus’ astounding expectations, and on the other hand I felt bound to report that Nero evidently did not have the support in the provinces that his mother and Seneca believed.
After much consideration, I finally wrote directly to Seneca and told him about my imprisonment.
Proconsul Junius Silanus has shown me generous hospitality [I wrote at the end] and does not wish me to go home until my wounds are completely healed. They are still suppurating. I am distressed that he does not think so highly of Agrippina and Nero as I do, but boasts of being a descendant of Augustus and believes implicitly that he has many friends in the Senate. I await your advice as to whether I should return to Rome or stay here for the time being.
Imprisonment had both dulled and enervated me. I let time run through my fingers with no thought for anything. I went with Silanus to the races and did well with bets on his team. There was also an excellent theater in Ephesus. And if there was nothing else to do, one could always go to the temple, which is one of the wonders of the world.
Gradually my strength returned to me, thanks to the good food, a comfortable bed and skillful treatment. I began riding again and joined in the boar hunts which Silanus’ tribunes organized.
Silanus’ Greek physician had been trained in Cos, and when I asked him about his remuneration, he laughed.
“Ephesus is the most wretched place in the world to practice the art of healing,” he said. “The priests of Artemis practice faith-healing and there are also hundreds of magicians from different countries here. The most fashionable one at the moment is a Jew who can cure the sick and calm the insane just by laying on his hands. His sweat-cloths and aprons are sold all round the country as cures for most things. But he’s not content with that either. He has rented Tyrannus’ school to teach his craft to others. He’s jealous of his colleagues too, and speaks contemptuously of books of magic and healing idols.”
“The Jews are the cause of all disturbances,” I said bitterly, “because they are no longer content with worshiping their own god among themselves under the protection of their special rights, but have to infect the Greeks as well.”
The Ionian autumn is mild. Junius Silanus’ freedman Helius, who administered his estate in Asia, looked after me in every way, had plays and mimes performed at mealtimes and sometimes sent a beautiful slave-girl to my bed if I looked bored. The golden days and the dark blue nights melted away. I thought that I no longer desired anything but the everyday life of human beings. That was sufficient hope and future for me. I became hardened and numb.
At the beginning of the winter, a swift Roman ship arrived, bringing to Ephesus an elderly knight called Publius Celer. He came with the message that Claudius had died of his stomach disorder, as had long been expected. Aphranius Burrus, the Prefect of the Praetorians, had had Nero borne to the Praetorians’ camp where Nero had made a speech and promised the men the customary gift of money. Amidst general acclamation, he had been declared Emperor, and the Senate had unanimously confirmed the decision.
Proconsul Junius Silanus carefully scrutinized the orders and credentials Celer had brought with him. Publius Celer was a powerful man, despite his age, and seemed to know what he wanted. A sword cut had left him with a scar in one corner of his mouth which made it crooked, so that he always looked scornful.
He had a message for me from Seneca, who thanked me for my letter and urged me to return to Rome, for Nero was missing his true friends as he was introducing his new liberal regime. The crimes, quarrels and mistakes of the past were forgotten and forgiven. Exiles could return to Rome. Supported by the fathers in the Senate, Nero hoped to be able to develop into a bearer of good fortune to humanity.
The necessary official measures were taken. Asia’s rulers decided to commission a portrait of Nero from the most famous sculptor in Home. But despite his wealth, Junius Silanus did not arrange a special banquet in honor of Nero, as he should have done, but invited only his closest friends to his country estate. In this way, we were no more than thirty at table.
After making an offering to Emperor Claudius, now proclaimed a god by the Senate, Junius Silanus turned his fat face to Celer and said venomously, “Let us drop all this chatter. Tell us what really happened in Rome.”