The Other Cheek

         From the entrance I heard people running and then came the thuds.

          “Hail to The Empress!”

         My chambermaid knelt as Agrippina stormed into my quarters.

         I wanted to pay my respects to her, but she stopped me and ordered the servants out. She was stunning in a strange and unnatural manner for a woman. Without beating around the bush, she told me to get out of Rome and out of Nero’s sight. I was furious, shocked, but not surprised.

         I’m a Corinthian by birth. I was brought up to respect human will and freedom of spirit. I’m also a freed-woman of Rome. I shall not let anyone, not even the Empress Agrippina Claudius Drusus Germanicus -Nero’s mother, dictate to me.

         “I shall take no part in the Empress’s ambitions,” I answered trying to keep my calm.

         “My son is married and he’s the Emperor. You are meddling in muddy waters where you are not permitted to enter,” she roared, spicing her address to me with insults and expletives.

         “Only the Emperor can tell me what to do,” I said.

         “I’ll see what he can do to you,” she threatened.

         “He can do whatever to either of us,” I retorted.

         She swung back, glared at me, and all of a sudden her hand swooped on my face with a mighty force. I felt a warm liquid trickling from my nose.

         Agrippina left as she came with a terrific commotion. I took my jade-studded mirror, a gift of Nero’s, and saw the marks of her hand on my cheek and my bloodied nose. At this time, my chambermaid Flavia rushed in with a basin and wet towels. She must have been spying from the doorway as usual, but for this I shall not scold her. I think I’ll use her words in my favor when Nero comes back from his poetry recital.

         Agrippina is after me and she will not stop. She wants Nero stay with Octavia whom he neither loves nor desires. Agrippina made him marry her. For Rome’s sake, she told him. He was too gutless and too young to figure out that his mother Agrippina used men for her own ambitions. What can one expect from Caligula’s sister? First she married Claudius, her uncle, now she’s using her son. They told me that she had been giving Nero favors of the unspeakable kind in her carriage when they traveled together. Poor Nero! What can one expect from a weak-willed child raised by a mother like Agrippina?

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         My Nero, My Hero... He walked in last night and saw the broken things at the entrance. He was already fuming by the time he reached my chamber. Nobody could explain what happened, because the servants were afraid to talk ill of Agrippina to him. Nero looked at me and asked if I was maltreated by criminals or something, but I kept my quiet, making the tension built. As I had instructed her, Flavia answered Nero.

         “Your Highness,” she said, “Permit me to answer for my mistress. For she is too overwrought to be treated as such by the powerful Empress Agrippina. Her highness was here to order my mistress out of Rome for Empress Octavia’s sake. I beg your pardon for speaking out of turn, Sire.”

         “Flavia, for your loyalty to my beloved Acte, I’m granting you 20,000 cesterces a year and a golden bracelet.”

         Flavia fell on her knees and hailed the emperor. She couldn’t believe her good fortune.

         My Dear Empress Agrippina... After this, we’ll see what Nero can do to you!

         Two years ago, when I was much too young, I came with Nero to Rome from Corinth. He impressed me with his poetry, his romanticism, and his respect for me. Nero has great respect for us Greeks and he promised me to make Greece a free state.

         I’m not the first girl in the world to leave her motherland after a young lad in a fringed toga who pretended to be who he was not. I never knew he was the emperor. He came to Greece as an artist, incognito, to take part in the competitions. I was so taken with him then.

         When I think back, I had no choice but come with Nero for I was forcefully taken as a slave by a centurion. Then Nero took me from him and freed me. I still wonder if Nero had arranged the whole thing. But what does it matter? I’d have come with Nero anyway.

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         Rome is a crowded city with two major avenues, Via Sacra and Via Nova, but most streets are too narrow with tall houses. Very few nobles have private houses here. When we came to Rome, Nero granted me my own place. It is a domus, the enviable ground-floor with the advantages of a private house with my personal ornatrix (beautician) and a load of servants. What else could a girl need, another woman might ask.

         Yet I needed something more, something in the way of the arts and learning. That’s when Nero brought Seneca with him to my quarters one day. I owe Nero a lot for introducing me to Annaeus Seneca, if not for anything else. Actually Nero was very proud of me because of my knowledge of Greek and that I could recite Homer.

         Nero even told Seneca to come visit me with a few of his other pupils for classes. As a result, Annaeus and I formed a liking to each other resembling a father-daughter or mentor-follower bond. Seneca told me to write down things even if they ended up being destroyed or burned in the furnaces and he told me he’d always supply me with papyrus and parchment.

         From Seneca I found out that, unlike in Greece, they looked down upon philosophy in Rome. Because of this, I learned when to speak up and when to keep my mouth shut. Together Annaeus and I have influenced Nero greatly.

         Nero promised the populace to be as magnanimous as the great Emperor Augustus, and he has kept his promise to a degree. He says he wants to make everyone happy. Seneca is a champion of the human rights and under his tutelage Nero has given many rights to the people that weren’t there before. If he can listen to good council, how can a man be evil?

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         After many fights between mother and son, Nero is out of the clutches of Agrippina, and he has thrown away the bracelet she had been making him wear. He banished Agrippina from the palace. I wasn’t happy when he threw the bracelet away because I think he had an emotional tie to it. He also stopped worshipping the only goddess he ever worshipped, the Syrian Atargatis. I think it was unwise to make so many changes so suddenly.

         Nero is living with me now. He left Octavia for good and he moved me to a very big house, which he took from a very wealthy senator. He makes people say that I was a princess before I came here. He says he’ll build a special palace for me, yet he has changed so. In a worse way too, I’m afraid. I think he’s unwell but I’m scared to tell him that.

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         The way Nero does things makes me cringe. Especially when it comes to the queer stuff. . .Poor Nero! Pity him is all I can do.

         All his sick tastes have surfaced now and he’s acting weird and paranoid. He goes around with long and twisted hair looking like a chariot racer, giving concerts and performances and forcing people to make him win awards. He thinks he’s the greatest poet ever-lived. Seneca says his poetry and acting are quite acceptable but not the greatest. Of course, I wouldn’t tell Nero that. What bothers Seneca is that Nero has restricted the actions of both tribunes, a big blow to democracy and great disrespect to Romans.

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         Poor Agrippina! I never thought I’d feel pity for that woman. But I do now. Nero had his own mother killed. He says he was frightened of her for she was ruthless and disliked him immensely after he banished her from the palace.

         What a way to go! First he put her in a collapsible boat that sank with everyone in it. In order to be saved, one of the slaves shouted, “Help! I’m Agrippina, the emperor’s mother.” They battered her with oars and killed her. Seeing this, Agrippina didn’t utter a sound but managed to swim ashore. She was injured in the shoulder but alive. Then Nero sent Anicetus after her. Anicetus broke into her house and battered her to death. When Nero told me this himself, I was shocked.

         “You are so overcome with delight that you can’t speak!” he remarked. “You’re very happy, Precious, aren’t you?”

         “No,” I said. “I’m never happy when someone dies.”

         “Then I must make you see death.”

         So he made me go to the arena with him to watch the beasts tear people apart. Me and my big mouth! Up to now, I had made excuses not to go to the arena. Now he doesn’t take no for an answer. He tells me it is just like the Greek games, but he’s wrong. Greek games were never brutal at all.

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         Yesterday Nero brought over a handful of his new coins.

         “They are the best ever,” he claimed.

         He may be right on that account. The coins were well-modeled in high relief with great attention to the details of beard, hair, and wreath. Although I thought the neck was unflattering, I kept my mouth shut. On the other side of the coin was the seated figure of Rome helmeted with spear and shield. I have to say, the coin was superbly crafted overall. But coins do not an emperor make.

         He is now talking about renaming Rome, Neropolis, and renaming the month of April, Neroneus.

         Plus, so many other unspeakable, incredulous things. . . I don’t think I’ll be able to take it any longer. It is very difficult to live with a man so perilously mindless even when one loves him.

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         I feel so bad for the people of the new sect. I abhor the morning massacres. That’s when the beasts are the most savage. Romans used to make fun of the Jews before, but they are really getting at those who are the followers of a man named Jesus. They pick them up in hordes, charge them with any crime their minds can dream up, and throw them to the beasts of the Circus Maximus. And Nero makes me watch that!

         It is hard not to admire these people. I know many people sympathize with them and respect them. Before being thrown to the lions, they are asked to give up their religion if they choose life. Very few do so, if any. They march into the Circus calmly and face the beasts without a fight.

         I talked to Seneca about it. He told me this was some kind of a loving brotherhood worshipping only one God. He said the bond between them was very similar to what we call agape in Greece. I know this situation bothers Seneca as much as it does me, but he told me to endure it and think of other more pleasant things. I don’t think there are any pleasant things in my life anymore.

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         Wow! I could jump for joy. I’m free of Nero. Recently he was showing up less and less in my house. I know he was at the parties with other people, namely Poppaea. Poppaea is of high birth and amazingly beautiful. Now that her husband is dead, she’s all his.

         When he told me, I was both heartbroken and glad. The man I had loved had tired of me but I was getting rid of a terrible situation. I still acted as if I was unhappy to let him go. He put me on a regular pension and let me have a house, said good bye, and went to live with Poppaea. I gave him no trouble, at all. It is better this way.

         Look, what’s happening to Octavia. Nero had Octavia tried for adultery in order to be able to divorce her. Now he’s claiming sterility on her part. As soon as he gets his divorce he’ll marry Poppaea. He told me that. I bet he’ll get rid of Octavia for good after the divorce because Octavia is so popular with the people. That’s why I stay friends with Nero. Still, can one ever tell what can happen inside a twisted mind?

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         I went to pay a visit to a consul’s wife, who is a very learned lady. Her servant led me to her drawing room. The lady seemed very unnerved, and she tried to hide some papers. I asked her what the papers contained. She said they weren’t important. But as she was putting them away in a drawer, a parchment slipped through. I picked it up to give it to her. On it, it was written something like “Epistles of Paul.” She begged me not to talk of it to anyone especially to Nero. I told her Nero was with Poppaea; although, I knew that she ought to have heard of that. I told her I’d never get anyone in trouble; just that I was curious for myself. Still shaken, she showed me some of the papers and told me a few other things as well.

         I found out that now the new sect is taking hold among the upper classes, even though nobody admits to it out of mortal fear. I told her it wouldn’t hurt to keep an open mind. She knows I’m of Greek origin and I’m tolerant of others’ ideas. She told me a group of them were meeting every week and discussing the new principles; she even invited me to attend one of their meetings. I’ll definitely go. I’m so excited!

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         It is a good thing I had just moved out of the city. Rome burned down together with my old house.

         Nero blamed the Christians for it. So, he is burning the Christians alive in his gardens instead of torches. The hell that existed in his mind has descended to earth. Why did he turn to be such an awful man, my God? And I loved him so!

         Some are blaming him for torching the place. I’m told he didn’t do it because at the time he was far away from the place where the fire started. They rumor that he went up to the balcony on the roof and sang, “Troy is burning.” That doesn’t mean much. Nero sings all the time for any reason.

         Despite all this horror, I know a new age has begun. I’m taught that in crucifying Jesus the Romans have sealed their doom, since God’s power is sealed in love, peace, and humility.

         I adore the parables, too. The story about turning the other cheek has found much favor with me, because through my trials and tribulations, that’s what I by myself had figured out I should do. Maybe, like the other Christians, I’m also called by God. I hope I am. There is so much to learn though.

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Anno Domini 68, June

         So much has happened within the last few years. As I had predicted, Octavia is dead. She wasn’t the only one. Many executions of countless noblemen, senators, generals, even war heroes took place.

         Then we had a food shortage in Rome since Nero’s excesses totally drained the treasury.

         A few months ago Gaius Julius Vindex of Spain withdrew his oath of allegiance, but he was defeated and he killed himself. Later Gallia and the Germans withdrew also. So did Clodius Macer in North Africa. When Nymphidius Sabinus, persuaded his troops to abandon their allegiance to Nero, the senate condemned the emperor to be flogged to death.

         Before they could get to him, Nero chose suicide.

         I have insisted that he be given a proper burial and I succeeded. I went to his funeral and put flowers on his grave.

         Poor pitiful Nero! The scapegoat of his useless gods!

         In the beginning, all he wanted was to be applauded and adored as an artist. He had meant so serve the Romans well. Only God knows what went wrong with him.

         I know this may be useless because Nero turned into such an obnoxiously horrific creature. Still, I shall pray for his soul as long as I live, for love always turns the other cheek.

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