burned alive!" Suetonius
says that a storm put out the flames, and dogs devoured the corpse.
Another astrologer predicted that Domitian would die before noon on the
morrow. In order to convince him of his error, Domitian ordered him to
be executed the subsequent night. Before noon on the morrow Domitian
was dead.

Philostratus and Dion Cassius both unite in saying that at that hour
Apollonius was at Ephesus, preaching to the multitude. In the middle of
the sermon he hesitated, but in a moment he began anew. Again he
hesitated, his eyes half closed; then, suddenly he shouted, "Strike
him! Strike him once more!" And immediately to his startled audience he
related a scene that was occurring at Rome, the attack on Domitian, his
struggle with an assailant, his effort to tear out his eyes, the rush
of conspirators, and finally the fall of the emperor, pierced by seven
knives.

The story may not be true, and yet if it were!

VII

THE POISON IN THE PURPLE

Rome never was healthy. The tramontana visited it then as now, fever,
too, and sudden death. To emperors it was fatal. Since Caesar a malaria
had battened on them all. Nerva escaped, but only through abdication.
The mantle that fell from Domitian's shoulders on to his was so
dangerous in its splendor, that, fearing the infection, he passed it to
Ulpius Trajanus, the lustre undimmed.

Ulpius Trajanus, Trajan for brevity, a Spaniard by birth, a soldier by
choice; one who had fought against Parthian and Jew, who had triumphed
through Pannonia and made it his own; a general whose hair had whitened
on the field; a consul who had frightened nations, was afraid of the
sheen of that purple which dazzled, corroded and killed. He bore it,
indeed, but at arm's-length. He kept himself free from the subtlety of
its poison, from the microbes of Rome as well.

He was in Cologne when Domitian died and Nerva accepted and renounced
the throne. It was a year before he ventured among the seven hills.
When he arrived you would have said another Augustus, not the real
Augustus, but the Augustus of legend, and the late Mr. Gibbon. When he
girt the new prefect of the pretorium with the immemorial sword, he
addressed him in copy-book phrases--"If I rule wisely, use it for me;
unwisely, against me."

Rome listened open-mouthed. The change from Domitian's formula, "Your
god and master orders it," was too abrupt to be immediately understood.
Before it was grasped Trajan was off again