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but I think my eyes bore witness to how enraptured I was by her young beauty. We could not talk for long, for I had to see to my many duties as son-in-law at my father-in-law�s banquet. But I fulfilled them absentmindedly and could think of nothing else but Poppaea�s deep gray eyes and shimmering complexion. I stumbled, too, as I read out the ancient oaths to the guardian spirits of the house. Finally my wife Sabina drew me to one side. �Your eyes are quite rigid and your face is red,� she said acidly, �as if you were drunk, although there has been little wine drunk yet. Don�t get entangled in Lollia Poppaea�s intrigues. She�s a calculating little bitch, and she has her price, but I�m afraid it�s too high for a fool like you.� I was angry on Poppaea�s behalf, for her behavior was quite innocent and one could not possibly mistake it. At the same time, Sabina�s offensive remark excited me secretly and made me think that perhaps I had some hope if I were tactful enough to become closer acquainted with Poppaea. In a brief pause in my duties I approached her again, which was not difficult since other women obviously avoided her and the men had once again gathered around the guest of honor to listen to his unvarnished stories from Britain. To my dazzled eyes, Poppaea looked like an abandoned child, however proudly she tried to hold up her blonde head. I felt a great tenderness for her, but when I tried to brush her bare arm she jerked back, turned away and gave me a look which reflected deep disappointment. �Is that all you want, Minutus?� she whispered bitterly. �Are you like all other men, although I hoped I had found a friend in you. Don�t you see why I prefer hiding my face behind a veil to exposing myself to lustful stares? Remember I am married, although if I could get a divorce, I could feel free.� I assured her that I would rather open my veins than hurt her in any way. She was near to tears and leaned against me in exhaustion so that I could feel her body against mine. From what she said, I understood that she did not have the money for a divorce and in fact only the Emperor could dissolve her marriage, for she was a patrician. But she knew no one in the Palace who was influential enough to be able to put her case before Nero.
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�I have experienced the meanness of all men,� she said. �If I turn to a stranger for help he would just make the most of my defenseless position. If only I had a real friend who would be content with my eternal gratitude without offending my modesty.� The end of the story was that I saw her home from the banquet. Her husband, Crispinus, willingly gave his permission so that he himself could get drunk in peace. They were so poor they did not even have a sedan of their own outside, so I offered Poppaea ours. She hesitated at first but then allowed me to sit by her so that I felt her proximity all the way. In the end we did not go directly to the Praetorian garrison area, for the night was beautiful and clear and Poppaea was as tired of the smell of sweat in the camp as I was of the stench from the menagerie. From the nearest hillside, we looked across at the view over the lights of the bazaars. In some strange way, we ended up at my house on Aventine, for Poppaea wished to ask Aunt Laelia something about her poor father. But Aunt Laelia had of course gone to bed and Poppaea could not bring herself to awaken her at that late hour. So we sat together and drank a little wine as we watched the dawn breaking over Palatine. We dreamed of how things might be if she, and I too, were free. Poppaea leaned trustfully against me and told me she had always longed for pure unselfish friendship, although she had never found it. After I had pleaded with her, she agreed to accept a considerable sum of money as a loan to enable her to start divorce proceedings against Crispinus. To amuse her, I told her about Nero�s unusual friendliness, his magnanimity to his friends, and his other qualities, for Poppaea was inquisitive in the way women are and had never met Nero herself. I told her about Acte, too, about her beauty and good behavior, and about other women Nero knew. I confirmed that Nero had not even consummated his marriage with Octavia yet because of his antipathy to her as Britannicus� sister and his own former half sister. Poppaea Sabina knew how to flatter me and she egged me on to tell her more with skillful questions, so that I began to admire her for her intelligence as much as her beauty. It seemed surprising that such a lovely and sensitive woman, who had already borne a son, could still appear unmoved and in the depths of her
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uncorrupted soul feel deep distaste for the burdens of the court. I admired her even more, and the more unapproachable I imagined she was, the more desirable she became to me. When we parted at sunrise, just before the sounding of the trumpets, she allowed me a kiss of friendship. When I felt her soft lips melt under mine, I was so captivated that I swore I would do everything in my power to help free her from her worthless marriage. During the following days, I lived as if in a confused dream. All colors seemed clearer in my sight than before, the night was softly dark and I was as if slightly intoxicated, even attempting to write poems. We met in the temple of Minerva and together pretended to look at the paintings and sculpture of Greek masters. Poppaea Sabina told me that she had had a serious talk with her husband and Crispinus had agreed to a divorce if he received sufficient compensation. With sound common sense, Poppaea explained that it would be wiser to pay Crispinus than waste money on lawyers and mutual accusations which had to be proved and only led to public scandal. But she was appalled at the very thought of my giving her even more money. She possessed some jewelry of her own which she could sell, although they were valuable family heirlooms. But her freedom was to cost much more. Poppaea made me feel so ashamed that I forced her to accept a large money order through my banker. Now all that remained was to acquire Nero�s agreement to the dissolution of the marriage. This he could do himself as the pontifex maximus, an office he could exercise whenever he wished to, although he did not do so continuously because it only increased his work in the service of the State with its innumerable religious duties. I did not want to spoil things by mentioning the matter to Nero myself, for he could then have suspected me of dishonorable intentions. I myself was married according to the longer form and Nero had begun to remark sarcastically that it would be better if I confined myself to the business of the menagerie, which I knew about, and not join in conversations on philosophy and music. This mortified me. So I thought of Otho, who was Nero�s best friend and who had so much money and influence that he even dared to quarrel with
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Nero when he felt like it. Otho had a weakness for keeping his face so smooth that he looked quite hairless, and this gave me an opening to mention one day that I knew a woman who used ass�s milk on her delicate skin. Otho was at once interested and told me that when he had had too much to drink and too many sleepless nights, he bathed his face with bread soaked in milk. I told him in confidence about Poppaea Sabina and her unhappy marriage. He wanted to meet her himself, of course, before taking the matter up with Nero. So I myself, like a happy fool, took Poppaea to Otho�s magnificent house. Poppaea�s beauty, modesty and lovely complexion made such an impression on him that he willingly promised to be her spokesman, but first he had to be told all the necessary circumstances. Smiling cheerfully, Otho questioned Poppaea on the intimate details of her marriage. When he noticed that this embarrassed me so much I did not know which way to look, he suggested that I should leave them. This I did gladly, for I realized that Poppaea would prefer to talk alone with a man as experienced and sympathetic as Otho. Behind locked doors, they talked until late into the afternoon. Finally Poppaea came out to me and took my hand, her eyes shyly lowered and her chin hidden in her veil. Otho thanked me for introducing him to such a delightful woman and promised to do his best about the divorce. Poppaea had red patches on her white throat from the delicate conversation she had endured. But Otho kept his promise. Nero, in the presence of two judges and with the necessary documents, had the marriage dissolved. Poppaea was allowed to keep her son and a few weeks later Otho quietly married her without even waiting the customary nine months. This was such a stunning blow to me that at first I simply did not believe it. It was as if the sky had fallen around me; all colors faded and I had such a terrible headache that I had to stay shut up in a darkened room for a few days. When I once again came to my senses, I burned my poems on the household altar, vowing never to write any again, a decision I have adhered to ever since. I realized I could not reproach Otho, for I myself had felt Poppaea�s powers of enchantment. I had just thought that Otho, who was famed for his many love
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affairs with women and youths, would never have been attracted by such a shy and inexperienced woman as Poppaea. But perhaps Otho wished to change his ways, and Poppaea might become a favorable influence on his dissipated soul. I received a personal invitation to the wedding from Poppaea, and I sent them the most beautiful set of silver drinking vessels I could find as a wedding present. But at the banquet itself I must have been like a ghost from the underworld and I drank more than I usually did. Finally I remarked to Poppaea, my eyes brimming with tears, that perhaps I too could have had a divorce. �But why didn�t you say something then?� cried Poppaea. �Though I could not have caused Flavia Sabina such grief. Of course, Otho has his failings. He�s a little effeminate and he drags one foot when he walks, whereas one hardly notices your limp. But he has promised to start a new life and leave the friends who have led him into certain vices. I can�t even tell you about those. Poor Otho is so sensitive and so easily influenced by others. So I hope my influence will make a new man of him.� �He�s richer than I am too,� I said, without hiding my bitterness �He is of a very ancient family and he�s the Emperor�s closest friend.� Poppaea stared reproachfully at me. �Do you think that of me, Minutus?� she whispered, her month trembling. �I thought you understood that fame and wealth mean nothing to me if I like another person. I don�t look down on you, even if you are only the superintendent of the menagerie.� She was so hurt and so beautiful that I relented and begged for her forgiveness. For a long time, Otho was transformed. He stayed away from Nero�s feasts, and when Nero sent especially for him, he went home early, saying he could not keep his beautiful wife waiting too long. He boasted so much to Nero of Poppaea�s charm and love-making that Nero became more and more inquisitive and began to ask Otho to bring his wife with him to Palatine. Otho explained, however, that Poppaea was much too shy and proud, and he kept finding other excuses as well. But he was persuaded to tell how not even Venus herself being born from the waves could be more beautiful than Poppaea in her morning bath
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of ass�s milk. Otho had acquired a whole stable of asses which were milked for her alone. I was consumed with such black jealousy that I stayed away from all gatherings at which Otho was present. My writer friends teased me about my melancholy and I gradually consoled myself with the thought that if I really loved her, I should only wish her well. Outwardly at least, Poppaea had made the most advantageous match she could have found in Rome. But my wife Flavia Sabina became more of a stranger to me than ever, and we could no longer meet without quarreling. I began to think quite seriously about a divorce, however hated I might become by the whole of the Flavius family. But I could not even imagine Sabina agreeing. She had let me understand once and for all that I had instilled in her a distaste for the delights of the marriage bed. On her part, she did not mind that I occasionally slept with an experienced slave-girl, as long as I left her in peace. There was no legal reason for a dissolution of a marriage of our kind, and Sabina became enraged when I once mentioned the subject, mostly from fear that she might lose her beloved animals. Finally I could do nothing but hope that one day she would be torn to pieces by one of her lions as she cowed them with her strong will and forced them to do fantastic tricks, with the help of the lion- tamer Epaphroditus. Thus the first five years of Nero�s rule went by for me. This was probably the happiest and most flourishing time the world had ever known, or even ever will know, but I felt like a caged animal. I gradually began to neglect my office, gave up riding and put on an excessive amount of weight. Nevertheless, there was no great difference between me and other young men in Rome. Numerous unkempt long-haired men could be seen on the streets, dripping with sweat, singing and playing on lyres, a new generation in society who despised the rigid old customs. I myself simply felt indifferent to everything, for the best part of my life had already drifted unnoticeably by, although I was not yet thirty. Then Nero and Otho fell out. To annoy Nero, Otho took Poppaea to Palatine with him one day. Nero naturally fell blindly in love with her and, like a spoiled child, he was used to getting what he
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wanted. But Poppaea rejected his advances and said that Nero had nothing which Otho could not also offer. After the meal, Nero had a bottle of his most expensive perfume opened and all the guests were allowed to rub a little of it on themselves. When Nero was later a guest at Otho�s house, Otho had the same perfume sprayed in a mist over all those present. It was said that Nero, in his morbid love, once had himself taken to Otho�s house in the middle of the night and hammered in vain on the door. Otho would not let him in, because Poppaea thought it was an unsuitable time for a visit. It was even said that Otho, in the presence of several people, had said to Nero, �In me you see the future Emperor.� Whether he had got this idea from some prophecy or from elsewhere, I do not know. Nero had, however, kept his temper and laughed at him scornfully. �I can�t even see you as a future consul,� he said. To my surprise, Poppaea sent for me one lovely spring day when the cherry trees in the Lucullus gardens were in flower. I thought I had managed to forget her, but my indifference was obviously only on the surface for I obeyed her summons immediately, trembling with ardor. Poppaea was more beautiful than ever. Her little son was with her and she behaved as befits a loving mother. She was dressed in a silk gown which revealed rather than hid the entrancing beauty of her figure. �Oh, Minutus,� she cried, �how I have missed you! You are the only unselfish friend I have. I must have your advice.� I could not help feeling some distrust, remembering what had happened the last time I had been her adviser. But Poppaea gave me such an innocent smile that I could think no evil of her. �You must have heard of the fearful difficulty I am in because of Nero,� she said. �I don�t understand how it happened. I myself have not given the slightest cause for it. But Nero is harassing me with his affection, even to the extent that dear Otho is risking Falling from grace for protecting my virtue.� She looked at me attentively. Her gray eyes suddenly turned violet and she had had her golden hair arranged so that she looked like an ivory and gold statue of a goddess. She twisted her slim fingers.