An extract from Nero in Greece: The Tour!
Emperor Nero having accidentally kicked his wife Poppaea to death is now to marry the none too keen on the idea Statilia Messalina.
Sporus, Nero’s eunuch lover, is determined to stop this wedding.
“Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”
A high pitched squeal from the back of the hall and from behind a pillar shot Sporus running full pelt down the centre. The Emperor and Empress turned round.
“What the____?” began Nero.
A thought shared by the trumpet players, who went spectacularly off key.
The Guards proved their general useless once again by their motionless gawps as Sporus headed towards the Imperial party. Epaphroditus though, was much quicker off the mark.
“An assassin!” declared the secretary and then shot off towards the bombing eunuch before the Emperor could recognise him.
Sporus, surprisingly for such a natural coward, was unfazed by the sight of the Emperor’s Private Secretary running towards him, he was even unfazed by the two Praetorians who finally joined the race. His thoughts were solely concentrated on stopping this pantomime of a wedding. Nero wouldn’t hurt him so, not after he saw how upset his darling Sporus/Poppaea/Whatever was at this betrayal. His eyes firmly on Epaphroditus, intending to scout round him at the last moment Sporus utterly failed to see Straton slip out from his hiding spot.
Crack, thump. Sporus hit the marble floor, oompthing the air out of him, banging his chin on the ground, a red slash on his ankle bleeding from Straton’s targeted whip shot.
The overseer grabbed him by the other ankle, dangling him upside down. “Got me eunuch,” he grinned.
Epaphroditus on his interception mission, realised with dismay that he was moving too fast to stop in time.
“Minerva’s Arse!” he swore as he careered into Straton, sweeping him from his feet.
The two Praetorians in a similar dilemma added to the pile up with a smack. The confusion of limbs, whips and swords freed Sporus from the overseer’s hold and he wriggled out from beneath Straton ,crawling along the floor.
Epaphroditus, his eye smarting from an accidental encounter with Straton’s fist, pushed his way free and threw himself on top of the eunuch flattening him.
“Oh no you don’t,” he hissed in Sporus’ ear.
At the far end of the hall the wedding party stood in bemused silence. “What is going on?” asked Statilia.
Nero, keen to appear in charge in front of his soon to be wife, cupped his hands over his mouth and called. “EPAPHRODITUS! WHAT’S GOING ON?”
“All under control Caesar.” Came the call back.
“Well that’s good,” Nero smiled to Statilia. “Shall we go in?” Taking her arm with a pat. A third, perfectly tuned, blast from the trumpets and the great doors of the banqueting hall were flung open.
