Petronius did not think that Caesar could love really and deeply even his own child; though he loved her passionately, he felt certain, however, that he would exaggerate his suffering.

He was not mistaken.

Nero listened, with stony face and fixed eyes, to the consolation offered by knights and senators.

It was evident that, even if he suffered, he was thinking of this: What impression would his suffering make upon others?
He was posing as a Niobe, and giving an exhibition of parental sorrow, as an actor would give it on the stage.

He had not the power even then to endure in his silent and as it were petrified sorrow, for at moments he made a gesture as if to cast the dust of the earth on his head, and at moments he groaned deeply; but seeing Petronius, he sprang up and cried in a tragic voice, so that all present could hear him,--"Eheu! And thou art guilty of her death! At thy advice the evil spirit entered these walls,--the evil spirit which, with one look, drew the life from her breast! Woe is me! Would that my eyes had not seen the light of Helios! Woe is me! Eheu! eheu!" And raising his voice still more, he passed into a despairing shout; but Petronius resolved at that moment to put everything on one cast of the dice; hence, stretching out his hand, he seized the silk kerchief which Nero wore around his neck always, and, placing it on the mouth of the Imperator, said solemnly,--"Lord, Rome and the world are benumbed with pain; but do thou preserve thy voice for us!" Those present were amazed; Nero himself was amazed for a moment.
Petronius alone was unmoved; he knew too well what he was doing.