The early distaste for blood was diminishing.
Domitian had the purple, but it was not bright enough; he wanted
it red, and what Domitian wanted he got. Your god and master
orders it, was the formula he began to use when addressing the
Senate and People of Rome.
To that the people were indifferent. The spectacles he gave in the
Flavian amphitheatre were too magnificently atrocious not to be a
compensation in full for any eccentricity in which he might
indulge. Besides, under Nero, Claud, Caligula, on en avait vu bien
d'autres. And at those spectacles where he presided, crowned with
a tiara, on which were the images of Jupiter, Juno and Minerva,
while grouped about him the college of Flavian flamens wore tiaras
that differed therefrom merely in this, that they bore his image
too, the people right royally applauded their master and their
god.
And it was just as well they did; Domitian was quite capable of
ordering everybody into the arena. As yet, however, he had
appeared little different from any other prince. That Rome might
understand that there was a difference, and also in what that
difference consisted, he gave a supper. Everyone worth knowing was
bidden, and, as is usual in state functions, everyone that was
bidden came. The supper hall was draped with black; the ceiling,
the walls, the floor, everything was basaltic. The couches were
black, the linen was black, the slaves were black.
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