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click to read pdf file - The Preterist Archive

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158 DARKNESS AND DAWN<br />

the orphan son of a murdered mother of a father ;<br />

foully dealt<br />

with, infamously calumniated. What cared the Eoman world<br />

whether he perished or not, or how he perished<br />

? He choked<br />

down the sob which rose, and left his brother's presence in<br />

silence ; but, as he traversed the long corridor <strong>to</strong> the room of<br />

Octavia, he could not help asking himself, with d<strong>read</strong> forebodings,<br />

what would be his fate Would ?<br />

he be starved, like<br />

the younger Drusus ? or poisoned, like the elder ? or bidden<br />

<strong>to</strong> end his own life, like poor young Tiberius Gemellus ? or<br />

assassinated by violence, like Agrippa Posthumus ? How<br />

was he better than they<br />

? And if he perished, who would<br />

care <strong>to</strong> avenge him ? But, oh God ! if there were such a God<br />

as He in whom the Christians believed, what a world was this<br />

in<strong>to</strong> which he had been plunged<br />

! What sin had he or his ances<strong>to</strong>rs<br />

committed, that these hell-dogs of wrong and murder<br />

banned his steps from birth ? <strong>The</strong> old Eomans had been<br />

strong and noble and simple. Even in the days of Augustus<br />

they could thrill <strong>to</strong> the lesson of Virgil :<br />

'Tu regere imperio populos, Romane, memen<strong>to</strong> ;<br />

Hae tibi erunt artes, pacisque imponere morem,<br />

'<br />

Parcere subjectis, et debellare superbos.<br />

Whence the present dearth of all nobleness ? What creeping<br />

paralysis of immoral apathy had stricken this corrupt and<br />

servile aris<strong>to</strong>cracy, this nerveless and obsequious Senate ?<br />

From what black pit of Acheron had surged up the slime of<br />

universal corruption which polluted every class around him<br />

with ignoble debaucheries ? He saw on every side of him a<br />

remorseless egotism, an unutterable sadness, the fatalism of<br />

infidelity and despair. A poisoning of the blood with physical<br />

and moral madness seemed <strong>to</strong> have become the heritage<br />

of the ruling Caesars. Where could he look for relief? Men<br />

had ceased <strong>to</strong> believe in the gods. <strong>The</strong> S<strong>to</strong>ics had nothing<br />

better <strong>to</strong> offer than hard theories and the possibility of suicide<br />

and what a thing must life be if it had no more precious<br />

privilege than the means of its own agonising and violent<br />

suppression !<br />

Britannicus was intelligent beyond his years, and thoughts<br />

like these chased each other through his mind as he made his<br />

way with slow and painful steps <strong>to</strong> the rooms of his sister. For<br />

an instant the thought of a rebellion flashed across his mind,<br />

but it was at once rejected. What could he do ? He was

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