laudius complained of poverty, a bystander said, "You
should go into partnership with a couple of your freedmen, and then your
finances would be all right." The fact that Narcissus, Pallas and
Polybius constituted the real government is nothing against them, any
more than it is to the discredit of certain Irish refugees that they
manage the municipal machinery of New York City--it merely proves the
impotence of the men who have allowed the power to slip from their
grasp, and ride as passengers when they should be at the throttle.

Messalina managed her husband by alternate cajolings and threats. He was
proud of her saucy beauty, and it was pleasing to an old man's vanity to
think that other people thought she loved him. She bore him two sons--by
name, Brittanicus and Germanicus. A local wit of the day said, "It was
kind of Messalina to present her husband with these boys, otherwise he
would never have had any claim on them."

But the lines were tightening around Messalina, and she herself was
drawing the cords. She had put favorites in high places, banished
enemies, and ordered the execution of certain people she did not like.
Narcissus and Pallas gave her her own way, because they knew Claudius
must find her out for himself. They let her believe that she was the
real power behind the throne. Her ambitions grew--she herself would be
ruler--she gave it out that Claudius was insane. Finally she decided
that the time was right for a "coup de grace." Claudius was absent from
Rome, and Messalina wedded at high noon with young Silius, her lover.
She was led to believe that the army would back her up, and proclaim her
son, Brittanicus, Emperor, in which case, she herself and Silius would
be the actual rulers. The wedding festivities were at their height, when
the cry went up that Claudius had returned, and was approaching to
demand vengeance. Narcissus, the wily, took up the shout, and
panic-stricken, Messalina fled for safety in one way and Silius in
another.

Narcissus followed the woman, adding to her drunken fright by telling
her that Claudius was close behind, and suggested that she kill herself
before the wronged man should appear. A dagger was handed her, and she
stabbed herself ineffectually in hysteric haste. The kind secretary
then, with one plunge of his sword, completed the work so well begun.

A truthful account of Messalina's death was told to Claudius while he
was at dinner. He finished the meal without sayin