legitimate ambitions of the most eminent men of the
opposite faction. Nor were these the only weapons
employed; others no less efficacious were called into
play, and intrigues, calumnies, accusations, and trials
were set on foot without scruple and with a ferocity
the horror of which Tacitus has painted with indelible
colors. Among these intrigues two matrimonial
projects must be mentioned. In the year 25 Sejanus
attempted a bold stroke; he repudiated his wife Apicata,
and asked Tiberius for the hand of Livilla (Livia),
the widow of Drusus. Sejanus had frequented
the political aristocracy of the empire, and, despite
his equestrian origin, was quick to adopt not only
their ambitions and their manners, but also their ideas
on marriage. He, too, considered it as simply
a political instrument, a means of acquiring and consolidating
power. He had therefore disrupted his first
family in order to contract this marriage, which would
have redoubled his power and his influence and have
introduced him into the imperial household.
But his bold stroke failed, because Tiberius refused;
and he refused, Tacitus tells us, above all because
he was afraid that this marriage would still further
irritate Agrippina. The emperor is supposed
to have told Sejanus that too many feminine quarrels
were already disturbing and agitating the house of
the Caesars, to the serious detriment of his nephew’s
sons. And what would happen, he asked, if this
marriage should still further foment existing hatreds?
Quid si intendatur certamen tali conjugio?
The reply is significant, because it proves to us
that Tiberius, who is accused of harboring a fierce
hate against the sons of Germanicus and Agrippina,
was still seeking, two years after the death of Drusus,
to appease both factions, attempting not to irritate
his adversaries and to preserve a reasonable equanimity
in the midst of these animosities and these struggles.
[Illustration: The starving Livilla refusing
food.]
In any case, Sejanus was refused, and this refusal
was a slight success for the party of Agrippina, which,
a year later, in 26, attempted on its own account
an analogous move. Agrippina asked Tiberius for
permission to remarry. If we are to believe Tacitus,
Agrippina made this request on her own initiative,
impelled by one of those numerous and more or less
reasonable caprices which were continually shooting
through her head. But are we to suppose that
suddenly, after a long widowhood, Agrippina put forth
so strange a proposal without any arriere-pensee
whatever? Furthermore, if this proposal had been
merely the momentary caprice of a whimsical woman,
would it have been so seriously debated in the imperial
household, and would the daughter of Agrippina have
recounted the episode in her memoirs? It is more
probable that this marriage, too, had a political aim.
By giving a husband to Agrippina, they were also
seeking to give a leader to the anti-Tiberian party.