That Tiberius had the reputation for unimaginable debauchery and licentiousness was due, in no small part, to his scribe, Lucius.
Recalled to Rome from his exile in Capri, after the death of his stepfather, Augustus, who he had always disliked for his moral insincerity, the new emperor was keen to sweep everything under the carpet; among his papers were various scrolls detailing practices and habits that, well, are best left to the imagination.
“Lucius,” he said, calling the scribe to his study, “I have some work for you. After you have finished burning these scrolls, I will allow you to join the revels.”
Lucius, who was under no illusions as to his master’s intended meaning, was prepared for such an eventuality.
“Sire,” he said, “I fear I have lost the appetite for such practices.”
“Do not be a spoil sport, Lucius. You must do your duty and please your master one last time.”
Lucius began to stoke the fire; Tiberius returned to his official letters. “Sire,” said Lucius, “I feel bound to inform you that copies of the scrolls are in the hands of a fellow scribe. In the event of my death, they will be handed to your mother, the Empress Livia.”
Of all his many enemies, the new emperor feared more than any his mother.
If Lucius, however, was able to leave Capri with his life, he was not safe for long. When the emperor’s mother died, at the ripe age of eighty-seven, the scribe lost his sole protector.
When Tiberius’s guard knocked at the door, he was found in bed with his slave.
The scribe was put to death, but his slave was freed.
*
“When I was learning Latin at school,” said George, “I never realized how brutal the Romans were.”
“Attenzione!” said Giorgio. “On a Sunday afternoon in the stadium the Romans can still be brutal.”
“What else could Lucius have done? He was a condemned man.”
“He should have probably burned all the scrolls and gone down in flames with them.”
“At least, the scribe was happy before he died.”