I, Claudius - Robert Graves [149]
"Why's that?" I asked, draining my cup again. The conversation was like the sort one has in dreams—mad but interesting, "Because you're the man who's going to avenge his death."
"I? Who said so?"
"Thrasyllus."
"Does Thrasyllus never make mistakes?"
"No. Never. Caligula's going to be murdered and you're to avenge his death."
A gloomy silence suddenly fell and continued until dessert, when Livia said: "Come, Claudius, the rest of our talk shall be in private." The other two rose and left us alone.
I said: "That seemed to me a very odd conversation, Grandmother. Was it my fault? Had I been drinking too much? I mean, some jokes aren't safe, nowadays. It was rather dangerous fooling. I hope the servants..."
"Oh, they're deaf-mutes. No, don't blame the wine.
There's truth in wine, and the conversation was perfectly serious so far as I was concerned."
"But... but if you really think him a monster why do you encourage him? Why not give Nero your support?
He's a fine fellow."
"Because Caligula, not Nero, is to be the next Emperor."
"But he'll make a marvellously bad one if he's what you say he is. And you, who have devoted your whole life to the service of Rome..."
"Yes. But you can't fight against Fate. And now that Rome has been ungrateful and mad enough to allow my blackguardly son to put me on the shelf, and insult me—me, can you imagine it, perhaps the greatest ruler that the world has ever known, and his mother, too..." Her voice grew shrill. I was anxious to change the subject. I said, "Please, calm yourself. Grandmother. As you say, you can't fight against Fate. But isn't there something particular that you want to tell me. Grandmother, connected with all this?"
"Yes, it's about Thrasyllus. I consult him frequently.
Tiberius doesn't know that I do, but Thrasyllus has been here often. He told me some years ago what would happen between Tiberius and me—that he'd eventually rebel against my authority and take the Empire wholly into his own hands. I didn't believe it then. He also told me another thing: that though I would die a disappointed old woman I would be acknowledged a Goddess many years after my death. And previously he had said that one who must die in the year which I know now is the year in which I must die, will become the greatest Deity the world has ever known and that, finally, no temples at Rome or anywhere in the Empire will be dedicated to anyone else. "Not even to Augustus."
"When are you to die?"
"Three years hence, in the spring. I know the very day."
"But are you so anxious to become a Goddess? My uncle Tiberius isn't at all anxious, it seems."
"It is all I think about, now that my work is over. And why not? If Augustus is a God, it's absurd for me to be merely his priestess. I did all the work, didn't I? He no more had it in him to be a great ruler than Tiberius has."
"Yes, Grandmother. But isn't it enough for you to know what you have done without wanting to be worshipped by the ignorant rabble?"
"Claudius, let me explain. I quite agree about the ignorant rabble. It's not so much my fame on earth that I'm thinking about as the position I am to occupy in Heaven.
I have done many impious things—no great ruler can do otherwise. I have put the good of the Empire before all human considerations. To keep the Empire free from factions I have had to commit many crimes. Augustus did his best to wreck the Empire by his ridiculous favouritism: Marcellus against Agrippa, Gaius against Tiberius. Who saved Rome from renewed Civil War? I did. The unpleasant and difficult task of removing Marcellus and Gaius fell on me. Yes, don't pretend you haven't ever suspected me of poisoning them. And what is the proper reward for a ruler who commits such crimes for the good of his subjects?
The proper reward, obviously, is to be deified. Do you believe that the souls of criminals are eternally tormented?"