lunge to the bottom with
all not prepared to escape. If Agrippina could be lured on board such a
vessel, her drowning would seem one of the natural disasters of the open
sea.

This suggestion filled with joy the mind of the unnatural son. The court
was then at Baiae, celebrating the festival called the Quinquatria.
Agrippina was invited to attend, and Nero, pretending a desire for
reconciliation, went to the sea-shore to meet her on her arrival,
embraced her tenderly, and conducted her to a villa in a pleasant
situation, looking out on a charming bay of the Mediterranean.

On the waters of the bay floated a number of vessels, among which was
one superbly decorated, being prepared, as she was told, in her honor as
the emperor's mother. This was intended to convey her to Baiae, where a
banquet was to be given to her that evening.

Agrippina was fond of sailing. She had frequently joined coasting
parties and made pleasure trips of her own. But for some reason, perhaps
through suspicion of Nero's dark project, she now took a carriage in
preference, and arrived safely at Baiae, much to the discomfiture of her
worthless son.

Nero, however, was cunning enough to conceal his disappointment. He gave
her the most gracious reception, placed her at table above himself, and
by his affectionate attentions and his easy flow of talk succeeded in
dispelling any suspicions his mother may have entertained.

The banquet was continued till a late hour, and when Agrippina rose to
go Nero attended her to the shore, where lay the sumptuously decorated
vessel ready to convey her back to her villa. Here he lavished upon her
marks of fond affection, clasped her warmly to his bosom, and bade her
adieu in words of tender regret, disguising his fell purpose under the
utmost show of tenderness.

Agrippina went on board, attended by only two of her train, one of whom,
a maid named Acerronia, lay at the foot of her mistress's couch, and
gladly expressed her joy at the loving reconciliation which she had just
perceived.

The night was calm and serene. The stars shone with their brightest
lustre. The sea extended with an unruffled surface. The vessel moved
swiftly, at no great distance from the shore, under the regular sweep of
the rowers' oars. Yet little way had been made when there came a
disastrous change. A signal was given, and suddenly the deck over
Agrippina's cabin sank in, borne down by a great weight of lead.

One of the attendants