He frowned at his two ministers to reprove their backwardness in murder, and effusively grasped the hand of the admiral. Burrus, as he looked at his scowling countenance, felt a fresh pang of remorse that he had ever deserted the cause of Britannicus. Seneca said to his agonised conscience, ‘If one would be the friend of a tyrant, one must not only wink at crimes, but commit them without a moment’s hesitation, however heinous they may be.’ While Anicetus was hastily suggesting the steps to be taken, the announcement came that one of Agrippina’s attendants--Lucius Agerinus--was waiting outside with a verbal message from the Augusta. Before he was admitted Nero whispered something to Anicetus. ‘Yes, yes,’ said the admiral, ‘the plan is excellent.’ Both Seneca and Burrus were amazed and shocked at the stupid and shameless comedy which was then enacted before their eyes. Agerinus had hardly begun to deliver his message when Nero, stepping up to him, dropped a sword at his feet. It fell with a clang on the white and purple mosaic, and instantly Nero and Anicetus began to clamour, ‘Murder! treason! murder! he has been sent by Agrippina to stab the Emperor!’ At this shout the body-guard came running in, and Agerinus was loaded with chains. Anicetus now had the excuse he needed. He summoned a band of soldiers and marines, and, accompanied by Herculeius, one of his naval captains, and Obaritus, an officer of the marines, he made his way to the villa at Bauli, giving out that he was ordered to execute Agrippina, who had just been detected in an attempt to assassinate her son. They found the precincts of the villa thronged by a curious crowd. These they drove away, and surrounded the grounds with guards. The slaves dispersed in all directions. Agrippina was still in her dimly lighted room, growing momently more alarmed because Agerinus did not return and she received no message from Nero. Nearer and nearer came the tread of feet till they heard the soldiers enter the atrium. There followed a brief altercation as the murderers scattered the few faithful attendants who would still have guarded the door of the chamber. The slave-girl rose to fly. ‘Dost thou also desert me?’ said the Empress bitterly. But the girl’s figure had scarcely disappeared when the door was rudely burst open, and she saw the cruel face of her enemy Anicetus, who held his drawn sword in his hand. For a moment they stopped before her imperious gesture. ‘If you have come from my son to inquire after my health,’ she said, ‘tell him that I am better. If you have come to commit a crime, I will not believe that you have his authority.’ ‘We have his authority,’ said Anicetus. ‘Behold his signet-ring!’