Dying Every Day: Seneca at the Court of Nero

by James Romm

Nero’s young friends, companions of his wilding sprees like Marcus Otho and Claudius Senecio, egged on the princeps to defy these two father figures. “Are you afraid of them?” they asked, knowing they would score points by irreverence. “Don’t you realize that you are Caesar—that you have power over them, not they over you?” The slow unraveling of Nero’s trust in Seneca had begun—a process that would take ten years to play out and would result in disaster for both men. Nero extended his newfound license to the commoners: he removed the armed details that kept order in Rome’s open-air theaters. Fans of various pantomime dancers—balletlike performers whose sensuality made them the sex symbols of their day—used this freedom to start factional fights in the stands. Nero went to the theaters in disguise and watched these frays with delight, or even took part, throwing stones or broken bits of bench along with the most rabid brawlers. Finally the disorder became so grave that even Nero felt it had to be stopped.