" "And you
have done wisely," the senate answered, a reply which, in its
terseness, tells all.
Diplomacy and the plow, such were Rome's methods. As for herself
she fought, she did not till. Italy, devastated by the civil wars,
was uncultivated, cut up into vast unproductive estates. From one
end to the other there was barely a trace of agriculture, not a
sign of traffic. You met soldiers, cooks, petty tradesmen,
gladiators, philosophers, patricians, market gardeners, lazzaroni
and millionaires; the merchant and the farmer, never. Rome's
resources were in distant commercial centres, in taxes and
tribute; her wealth had come of pillage and exaction. Save her
strength, she had nothing of her own. Her religion, literature,
art, philosophy, luxury and corruption, everything had come from
abroad. In Greece were her artists; in Africa, Gaul and Spain, her
agriculturists; in Asia her artisans. Her own breasts were
sterile. When she gave birth it was to a litter of monsters,
sometimes to a genius, by accident to a poet. She consumed, she
did not produce. It was because of that she fell.
V
NERO
"Save a monster, what can you expect from Agrippina and myself?"
It was Domitius, Nero's father, who made this ingenious remark. He
was not a good man; he was not even good-looking, merely vicious
and rich. But his viciousness was benign beside that of Agrippina,
who poisoned him when Nero's birth ensured the heritage of his
wealth.
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