Thus occupied, and thus distracted--sternly
attracted to the grave by his creed, hideously repelled by infirmity of
nature--he was suddenly interrupted by a courier with letters for the
master of the house; letters, and from Rome! What was their import? That
was soon told--briefly that Nero was adjudged to be a public enemy by the
senate, and that official orders were issued for apprehending him, in
order that he might be brought to condign punishment according to the
method of ancient precedent. Ancient precedent! _more majorum!_ And
how was that? eagerly demanded the emperor. He was answered--that the
state criminal in such cases was first stripped naked, then impaled as it
were between the prongs of a pitchfork, and in that condition scourged to
death. Horror-struck with this account, he drew forth two poniards, or
short swords, tried their edges, and then, in utter imbecility of purpose,
returned them to their scabbards, alleging that the destined moment had
not yet arrived. Then he called upon Sporus, the infamous partner in his
former excesses, to commence the funeral anthem. Others, again, he
besought to lead the way in dying, and to sustain him by the spectacle of
their example.
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