From Gore Vidal’s Julian: the new emperor is taking a bath while discussing politics with his uncle, a distinguished senator.

I submerged for a moment, eyes tight shut, soaking my head. When I came to the surface, Oribasius was sitting on the bench beside my uncle.

“That is no way to approach the sacred presence.” And I splashed Oribasius very satisfactorily. He laughed. My uncle Julian laughed too, for I had soaked him as well. Then I was alarmed. In just this way are monsters born. First the tyrant plays harmless games: splashes senators in the bath, serves wooden food to dinner guests, plays practical jokes; and no matter what he says or does, everyone flatters him, finds witty his most inane remarks. Then the small jokes begin to pall….