hollis (they/them) currently studying classics and archaeology.
Elaboration for those who don’t know because it is my FAVORITE story about ancient Rome. Nero wanted to assassinate his mother, Agrippina, without making it look like an assassination. According to Tacitus:
He decided to kill her, debating only whether by poison, the dagger, or some other form of violence. The first choice fell on poison. But, if it was to be given at the imperial table, then the death could not be referred to chance, since Britannicus had already met a similar fate. At the same time, it seemed an arduous task to tamper with the domestics of a woman whose experience of crime had made her vigilant for foul play; and, besides, she had herself fortified her system by taking antidotes in advance.Cold steel and bloodshed no one could devise a method of concealing: moreover, there was the risk that the agent chosen for such an atrocity might spurn his orders. Mother wit came to the rescue in the person of Anicetus the freedman, preceptor of Nero’s boyish years, and detested by Agrippina with a vigour which was reciprocated. Accordingly, he pointed out that it was possible to construct a ship, part of which could be artificially detached, well out at sea, and throw the unsuspecting passenger overboard:— “Nowhere had accident such scope as on salt water; and, if the lady should be cut off by shipwreck, who so captious as to read murder into the delinquency of wind and wave? The sovereign, naturally, would assign the deceased a temple and the other displays of filial piety.”
A starlit night and the calm of an unruffled sea appeared to have been sent by Heaven to afford proof of guilt. The ship had made no great way, and two of Agrippina’s household were in attendance, Crepereius Gallus standing not far from the tiller, while Acerronia, bending over the feet of the recumbent princess, recalled exultantly the penitence of the son and the re-entry of the mother into favour.
Suddenly the signal was given: the canopy above them, which had been heavily weighted with lead, dropped, and Crepereius was crushed and killed on the spot. Agrippina and Acerronia were saved by the height of the couch-sides, which, as it happened, were too solid to give way under the impact. Nor did the break-up of the vessel follow: for confusion was universal, and even the men accessory to the plot were impeded by the large numbers of the ignorant. The crew then decided to throw their weight on one side and so capsize the ship; but, even on their own part, agreement came too slowly for a sudden emergency, and a counter-effort by others allowed the victims a gentler fall into the waves. Acerronia, however, incautious enough to raise the cry that she was Agrippina, and to demand aid for the emperor’s mother, was dispatched with poles, oars, and every nautical weapon that came to hand.
Agrippina, silent and so not generally recognised, though she received one wound in the shoulder, swam until she was met by a few fishing-smacks, and so reached the Lucrine lake, whence she was carried into her own villa.
There she reflected on the evident purpose of the treacherous letter of invitation and the exceptional honour with which she had been treated, and on the fact that, hard by the shore, a vessel, driven by no gale and striking no reef, had collapsed at the top ike an artificial structure on land. She reviewed as well the killing of Acerronia, glanced simultaneously at her own wound, and realized that the one defence against treachery was to leave it undetected. Accordingly she sent the freedman Agermus to carry word to her son that, thanks to divine kindness and to his fortunate star, she had survived a grave accident.
playing quiplash when everyone has the collective maturity of a 14 year old
another banger from a group of people who are totally adults
I am in tears, while carrying you to your last resting place as much as I rejoiced when bringing you home in my own hands fifteen years ago
Now, Patrice, you will no longer give me a thousand kisses, nor will you be able to lie affectionately round my neck.
You were a good dog, and in sorrow I have placed you in a marble tomb, and I have united you forever to myself when I die.
You readily matched a human with your clever ways; alas, what a pet we have lost!
You, sweet Patrice, were in the habit of joining us at table and fawningly asking for food in our lap,
You were accustomed to lick with your greedy tongue the cup which my hands often held for you
And often welcomed your tired master with wagging tail
Ancient Roman epitaph for a dog, found in Salerno. (CIL X 659)
playing quiplash when everyone has the collective maturity of a 14 year old
