“Ah, Sejanus, my mother has but shortly left me. Her words were burdened with hateful censure. For years has she cherished letters written to her by the Divine Augustus. To-day, in rage, she gave them me. Here on the floor are the words of invective he wrote her about me. He calls me ‘a thorn in his flesh,’ ‘a canker feeding on his happiness’--ye gods! and I, like a whipped boy, heard the abuse without raising a hand! My mother never loved me. Nay, all the gradations of the word _hate_ express the regard she has always had for me. To-day she parted from me forever.” “Thy mother is aged and--” “Ay, aged,” interposed Tiberius; “but her mind is clear. Then Drusus hates me because I trust thee.” “Full well do I know his hatred,” assented Sejanus. “But--what didst thou say, O honest friend?” asked Tiberius, not grasping the full meaning of Sejanus. “At last I understand thy son’s hatred,” repeated Sejanus. “What dost thou mean?” “When thou hast finished, I will tell thee.” “Let not passion warp thy true regard for my son,” said the emperor, reproachfully. “Proceed, O noble Tiberius,” begged Sejanus. “Agrippina and her two sons--Nero and Drusus--hate me because of the death of Germanicus and because they do not receive more power. Ah! they all hate me. I hate them. I hate the Senators with their soft words and flattering servility. I hate the city, I hate the people. Bah!” The tone of Tiberius and the vehemence with which he ended his bitter words of hatred affected Sejanus like water on thirsty lips. Every such storm of abuse gave him a nearer approach to the quaffing of the cup of full power. In all his castle building he had never dreamed of the possibility of the emperor’s living outside of Rome. “Thou hast true cause for hatred, O abused man,” said Sejanus. “Ay! But I know well this game of hate. Woe to those that hate me and those that I hate! The people shall be taught that Tiberius never forgives or forgets. I will go to an island--Dost thou remember Capri, with its inaccessible cliffs? Ay, I will go there. From Capri the blows shall fall. Then can I cry with untrammelled joy, ‘I am free! I am free!’” As he uttered these last words, he gathered in his right hand a part of his toga which had become loosened, and threw it over his left shoulder. This action caused the plaster on his face to loosen. A little watery stream colored with blood trickled down his cheek and dropped upon his toga. Tiberius pressed the plaster with his hand, which, becoming moist with the suppuration, he wiped on his greasy hair. “Right well do I remember, O Tiberius, the cliffs of Capri,” said Sejanus. “There thou shalt be truly free. Ay, and respect for a ruler increases when his power is felt and he is not seen. But thou hast friends in Rome, O Tiberius,--friends who would die for thee.”