herself without difficulty to all the sacrifices which
her rank and situation imposed upon her. She
changed husbands without repugnance, though her marriage
to Octavianus occurred but five years after the proscriptions,
while he was still red with the blood of her family
and friends. Likewise she renounced her two sons,
the future emperor Tiberius, who had been born before
her second marriage, as well as the one who had been
born after. So too when, a few years later,
Tiberius Claudius Nero died, appointing Augustus their
guardian, with equal serenity she took them back and
educated them with the most careful motherly solicitude.
To the second husband, whom politics had given her,
she was a faithful companion. Scandal imputed
to her absurd poisonings which she did not commit,
and accused her of insatiable ambitions and perfidious
intrigues. No one ever dared accuse her of infidelity
to Augustus or of dissolute conduct. The great
fame, power, and wealth of her husband did not disturb
the calm poise of her spirit. In that palace
of Augustus, adorned with triumphal laurel, toward
which the eyes of the subjects were turned from every
part of the empire, in that palace where, in little
councils with the most eminent men of the senate,
were debated the supreme interests of the world,—laws
and elections, wars and peace,—she preserved
the beautiful traditions of simplicity and industry.
These she had learned as a child in the house of
her father,—a house as much more illustrious
with inherited glory as it was poorer in wealth than
that which Victory had prepared for Augustus on the
Palatine.
[Illustration: The young Augustus.]
We know—it is Suetonius who tells us—that
this house on the Palatine built by Augustus, in which
Livia spent the larger part of her life, was small
and not at all luxurious. In it there was not
a single piece of marble nor a precious mosaic; for
forty years Augustus slept in the same bedchamber,
and the furniture of the house was so simple that in
the second century of our era it was exhibited to the
public as an extraordinary curiosity. The imperial
pair had several villas, at Lanuvium, at Palestrina,
at Tivoli, but all of them were unpretentious and
simple. Nor was there any more pomp and ceremony
about the dinners to which they invited the conspicuous
personages of Rome, the dignitaries of the state and
the heads of the great families. Only on very
special occasions were six courses served; usually
there were but three. Moreover, Augustus never
wore any other togas than those woven by Livia; woven
not indeed and altogether by Livia’s hands,—though
she did not disdain, now and then, to work the loom,—but
by her slaves and freed-women. Faithful to the
traditions of the aristocracy, Livia counted it among
her duties personally to direct the weaving-rooms
which were in the house. As she carefully parceled
out the wool to the slaves, watching over them lest
they steal or waste it, and frequently taking her
place among them while they were at work, she felt
that she too contributed to the prosperity and the
glory of the empire.