ACT · IV
SCENE · 1
The same. A public place. THRASEA and PRISCUS meeting.
PRISCUS.
I was coming to your house.
THRASEA.
’Tis well we meet.
How went it in the senate?
Pr.As you said.
A message read from Nero.
Thr.Seneca?
Pr. No doubt.
Thr. And in what terms touched he the murder?
Pr. With double tongue, as being an ill which none,
And Cæsar least, could have desired; and yet
A good none should lament.
Thr.He is very prompt.1700
What glozing for the hasty burial?
Pr. The speech was thus; that ’twas the better custom
Of simple times to shun all vain parade:
That private grief was mocked by frigid pomp,
And public business and quiet thereby
Idly disturbed;—Then for myself, it ran,
To have lost the aid and comfort of a brother
Demands your sympathy. Of your goodwill
I make no doubt; the more that my misfortune
Throws me upon it, seeing that all my hopes
Now anchor wholly on the commonwealth.
Wherefore to you, my lords, and to the people,
I look so much the more for maintenance
And favour, since I now am left alone
Of all my family, to bear the cares
Your empire throws upon me.
Thr.This was well.
Pr. Then were there gifts decreed to all his friends.
Thr. Hush-money. Did none murmur?
Pr.There were none
So much as frowned.
Thr.See, Lucan! let us speak with him.
Enter Lucan.
1720
If now he be not shaken, I mistake
His temper.
LUCAN.
Good day, Thrasea.
Luc. Comest thou from the house?
Thr.Nay, more’s the pity.
There was a distribution, as I hear,
To friends of order. Say, how didst thou fare?
Luc. In many things, Thrasea, I hold not with thee,
Nor will pretend that I can see in virtue
A self-sufficiency invulnerable
Against the crime of others. I believe
The world is wronged, and burn to avenge the wrong.
But, as an honest man, I take thy hand.
Thr. I looked for this, Lucan, and take thy hand.
Frivolity and crime are most unworthy
Of thy companionship.
Luc.My uncle’s hope
Tainted my judgment. I have been blind, and wronged thee.
Thr. Where I am misconceived I blame myself.
Luc. Hear me abjure.
Thr.Spare words. There’s no more fear
Thou wilt be duped. Cæsar, in slaying his brother,
Has doffed the mask.
Luc.The heart of Rome must swell
To put the monster down.
Thr.We have our part:
But in the sorry tragedy he makes
We can be but spectators. On his stage
There’s nought but folly. Come thou home with me:
I’ll show thee how we may regard this play,
Take note of all the actors, and watch the end.
[Exeunt.
SCENE · 2
The room in Domitia’s house, Enter DOMITIA and PARIS.
DOMITIA.
’Twas a most shameful deed; we take upon us
A just revenge.
PARIS.
But ’tis the general thought
That Nero killed his brother; that his mother
Had no hand in it, rather would have saved him.
Dom. ’Twas her intrigues determined him, and they
Who egg on others are the real movers.
Now will he hate her more a thousand-fold
For driving him to crime. She will not ’scape:
Our plot will stand.
Par.Is it thy scheme to push
Silana’s accusation?
Dom.Ay, ’tis that.
We shall accuse the Augusta of intent
To marry Plautus, to assert his claim,
And thus assail the throne.
Par.How wilt thou broach it?
Dom. We have fixed to-night. Cæsar will dine at home,
And with convenient company. ’Tis agreed
When he’s well drunk, you enter, announce the plot
As freshly hatched, and so unmask the affair
That he shall be persuaded.
Par.How glibly, madam,
Speech can glide o’er the hitch; I must feel flattered
That just in the awkward place I am shovelled in
To carry it through, who have no heart in the matter.
Dom. No heart! had you no ear then to my promise?
Par. ’Tis little for the risk. But what of Burrus?
Dom. Seeing that without his name the plot were weak,
And that to avouch his treason would discredit it,
We say he is suspected.
Par.’Twill not stand.1770
We lack confederates.
Dom.You forget Poppæa.
I have sent for her to try her. If I mistake not,
’Tis she that knocks. Get you behind the door,
And watch what passes. There![Paris hides.
Enter Poppæa.
Now this is kind.
POPPÆA.
I am bounden, lady, to wait on Cæsar’s aunt.
Dom. I count the days, Poppæa, when you yourself
Will call me aunt: and in that happy hope
I’ll stand thy friend.
Pop.I shall have full need, madam,
Of all good offices.
Dom.Maybe: my sister
Is an unscrupulous enemy. Beware!
She stole from me a husband, and will now
Keep you from winning one.
Pop.She doth not hide
Her disapproval of my love to Cæsar,
And thus appears my foe; but in truth, madam,
Half of my heart sides with her, and the fear
Lest the full passion which I bear your nephew
May shame his rank, conquers my love so far
That oft I doubt if I have a heart to bear
The honour I have dreamed of, or a love
Worthy of him, since it so much can fear.
Dom. Tut, tut! if you’re the woman that I think
You’re just what I would wish his wife to be.
Wronged in his marriage, he since hath wronged himself:
Octavia is a ninny, but his low
And last intrigues have scandalized the court:
Our family is hurt. You are his equal
In wit and manners, and can hold your place;
Nor in opposing you is it his good
His mother weighs: rather it suits her schemes
To have his wife a fool. ’Tis not unknown
What lately she had dared to keep her place,
But that Britannicus’ so sudden death
Blasted her plots: now in her constant project
Your marriage threatens her.
Pop.The more I see
It blackens more. May I dare ask you, madam,
To tell your sister that I willingly
Retire, if she prevail upon her son
Quite to forget his love and put me by?
Dom. Which side to take? that must you first determine;
’Tis Cæsar or his mother. I supposed
’Twas him you loved, not her. Now should I tell you
That she is deeply pledged to take his life,
And seize the empire ...
Pop.Oh! what wicked crimes!
Impossible!
Dom.But if I prove it to you?
Pop. I could not hear it.
Dom.Nay, but if ’tis true,
Side you with us who hinder it, or her
Who pushes it?
Pop.O madam, ’tis incredible.
Dom. Ay, and to-night, as Nero sits at supper,
When Paris brings the news he’ll not believe it.
But then a word from you might turn the scale,
And rouse his better judgment.
Pop.The very thought
That her destruction were my safety, madam,
Would hold my tongue. Indeed you have wronged me much,
Telling me this.
Dom.Why, such things you will hear.
Pop. Nay, let me go.
Dom.Ay, go, but think upon it.
Pop. Farewell.[Exit.
Dom. (sola). Was I mistaken?
Par. (re-entering).My mind is changed.
Dom. How now! what say you?
Par. Madam, the plot will stand.
Dom.Did you hear all?
Par. And saw.
Par. Ay, be sure of it.
Why she and I could carry anything.
She’s a born actress: we must keep good friends
With her.
Dom.Then this is well; go learn your part.
[Exeunt.
SCENE · 3
At the tomb of Britannicus, Enter OCTAVIA and ATTENDANTS.
OCTAVIA.
Hang there, sweet roses, while your blooms are wet,
Hang there and weep unblamed; ay, weep one hour,
While yet your tender, fleshly hues remember
His fair young prime; then wither, droop, and die,
And with your changèd tissues paint my grief.
Nay, let those old wreaths lie, the shrivelled petals
Speak feelingly of sorrow; strew them down
About the steps: we mock death being trim.
Now here another. Ah! see, set it you:
I cannot reach. Have you not thought these roses
Weave a fit emblem—how they wait for noon
That comes to kill their promise, and the crown
Is but a mock one?
ATTENDANT.
’Tis a good custom, lady,
To honour thus the tombs of those we love.
Oct. Custom! Is this a custom? Then I think
I wrong my sorrow in such common shows.
Att. Nay, it doth ease affliction to be busy;
And grief, that cannot reckon with a mystery,
Is comforted by trifles.
Oct.Why, thou’rt wrong;
It brings no comfort.
Att.And ’tis kindly done
To hide the fresh-cut stone. Death is hard featured
In a new-built tomb.
Oct.O, hold thy peace! I see
Thou canst not be my comforter. Alas,
I blame thee not. But yet, whate’er be said,
Think not our gracious deed finds its account
In the honour done: the wreaths I bring were woven
More for myself; the tears I shed, I shed
The more abundantly that they are crimes
In the sight of him that slew him.
Att.Speak not so,
Lady; thou’rt o’er-distraught.
Oct.What would’st thou have me?
Knowing my sorrow thou should’st rather wonder,
And think it well that I speak sense at all.
Att. Let not such passion kill thy courage, lady;
The greatest die. There stands the tomb of Julius,
Whose mighty march was no less foully stayed
At noon of power: there is Augustus’ tomb,
Wherein so many lie ...
Oct.Why, what are they
To me? Is’t not my brother that is dead?
Whose life was mine, as needful to my day
As is the sun; as natural, old a want
To very life as is the bathing air
That my blood battens on. Take these away
And give him back; it then were likelier
I should not gasp, fret, pale, nor starve, nor pine.
He is gone! O miserably, suddenly,
For ever; alas! alas!—See, who comes hither?
Att. ’Tis Agrippina, lady; and she carries
Wreaths such as ours.
Oct.Let us begone in haste.
Att. Alas! she hath seen us, lady: ’tis too late.
Oct. I’ll but salute her. I pray you all keep back,
Nor speak with her attendants.
Enter Agrippina, Fulvia, and Attendants.
AGRIPPINA.
My dearest daughter,
I have longed for this embrace. Where else but here
Beside this sacred tomb should we have met?
I should have been much with thee in thy sorrow,
But am forbidden the palace.
Oct.I must thank thee
Doing this grace to my unhappy brother.
The gods grant thee kind messages. Farewell.
Agr. Nay, go not thus. See how I hang these garlands.
Oct. Not there, nay, not on mine; not there! thy grief1891
Must own a lower place; mix not its show
With mine. He was my brother.
Agr.Thou art right.
Set them here, Fulvia. If my heart is wronged,
’Tis done unwittingly; thou canst not know.
Oct. I leave thee.
Agr.Grant one word.
Oct.Would’st thou be kind
’Twill be but one.
Agr.’Tis this then: I am kind.
In sum ’twas this I came to say.
Oct.If hither
Thou didst but come to seek me, know I had chosen
The hour to be alone.
Agr.My dearest child,1900
My injured child! See, I would have thee trust
My friendship. ’Twas my constant, loving wish
To right thy brother’s wrongs, and now my heart
Is wholly turned on thee.
Oct.Think not of me.
Am I not past all help? nor do I crave
The help that leads to death.
Agr.O never dream
That I had hand in that accursèd deed.
The terror of it rather hath possessed
My purpose with the justice of revenge.
Oct. I cannot thank thee, and from thy messengers
Have gathered all. There’s nought to say. Farewell.
Agr. Thou dost not know Poppæa marries Cæsar.
Oct. Ay.
Agr. Thou consentest?
Oct.Say, would my refusal
Or my consent be counted?
Agr.It shall not be.
Oct. It matters not.
Agr.Thou lookest for divorce?
Oct. Can I remain his wife who killed my brother?
Agr. Thou art the last branch of the house of Claudius,
And if thou wilt forget the hurt now done thee,
May’st yet retrieve thy blood; but being too proud,
Wilt more dishonour what thou seemest to honour.
If now thou’rt brave, and wilt join hands with me ....
Oct. O never, never! was it not that hand
That .... O my brother, with thy trait’rous foe
Make peace, and at thy tomb! Ask clemency
Of him that murdered thee! O never.—
Thou most dear shade, who wast too mild and kind,
If death seal not thy spiritual sense
To my loud sorrow, hear me! O thou my joy,
By whom the bitterness of life, my lot
Of horror, was quite sweetened,—cruelly,
Most cruelly slain. Ay, I will all forget
When he who wrought this thing can bring again
Out of thy cold unmotionable ashes
The well-compacted body and grace of life.
Ay, if he make one smile of thine, although
It last no time, I will forget: but else,
I say, the thing he hath done, since so ’tis done
That he cannot undo it, he must o’er-do
Ere I forget.
Agr.I will be yet thy friend—
[Exit Oct. with Attendants.
There comes no help from her. Maybe her grief
Is yet too fresh. Come, Fulvia, let us go.
She would not speak with me. Now on all hands
Thou seest I am set aside, and count for nought.
Yet not for this am I a whit discouraged;
I shall rise yet. Am I not Agrippina?[Exeunt.
SCENE · 4
A room in the Palace. Enter through a door from the supper-room NERO and POPPÆA.
NERO.
Now ere they follow, Poppæa, ease my heart,
And tell me thy request.
POPPÆA.
Thou’lt grant it me?
Ner. Whate’er it be, if thou wilt come to Baiæ.
Pop. I’ll have it without bargain or not at all.
1950
Ner. I grant it: ask.
Pop.’Tis that you give my husband
The post in Lusitania which he begs.
Ner. ’Tis his. Would he were there.
Pop.My thanks.
Ner.I prithee
Call him not husband.
Pop.Ah, now I pierce this veil
Of generosity: why, when he goes
I must go with him.
Ner.Eh! if that’s the case
I grant not his commission.
Pop.’Tis a promise.
Ner. I had a promise once.
Pop.That was conditioned.
Ner. And what condition have I not fulfilled?
Pop. Heavens! is’t forgotten?
Ner.Say, what have I lacked in?
Pop. Or did I dream ’twas promised me? ’Twas this;1960
Marriage.
Ner. By Juno, I will marry thee.
But come to Baiæ.
Pop.Nay; thine oath is vain
Upon the point of honour. There are things
Idle and ceremonial, and that count
In love as nought, but which alone can make
Divorce from Otho honourable, nay,
To me, I say, possible. Till the day
Octavia is divorced I am Otho’s wife,
Ay, and am well content to be: he loves me,
And lacks in nothing that a gentlema.
And lover should observe. I sometimes think
That you mistake ...
Ner.Ah!
Pop.But to mistake in that!
Seem to forget! I fly.
Ner.O most impatient!
I have yet no pretext.
Pop.Nay, nor ever will.
Besides, your mother rules: she would not suffer it.
I have no desire to taste her dishes.
Ner.Hush!
They come.
Enter through the door Petronius, Tigellinus and
Anicetus.
Where be the others?
TIGELLINUS.
They have taken
Cæsar’s gracious permission, and gone home.
’Tis late.
Ner.Why, who art thou to say ’tis late?
Be seated, be seated. I’ll tell thee, Anicetus,
More of my scheme anon; but for the present
We keep Minerva’s feast at Baiæ; thither
Must thou convey the court. Combine high pomp
With masterly dispatch; our games shall reach
The limit of invention, and ourselves
Take part. To thee I say, come not behind.
ANICETUS.
Grant me the means to be great Cæsar’s herald,
I’ll make a wonder that shall fetch the nymphs
From their blue depths in ravishment to see
His ships upon the waters.
Ner.I shall be liberal,
And give thee full instruction. (To Pop.) Think, my love,
What could be pleasanter, now spring is come,
Than to confide our vexed and careful spirits
To nature’s flush; to leave our memories
With the din and smoke of Rome, and force a pageant
Upon the lazy mirror of the bay,—
One to make Venus jealous, and confound
The richness of the season. Thou dost not guess
What I can do. Say, would’st thou miss the seeing
Of my magnificence?
Enter Paris.
Pop.See, here is Paris.
Ner. He comes to make us merry. The gods defend us!
He has seen a ghost.
Pop.He has something to deliver.
Ner. Patience! I know his mood: he will be tragic;
And you shall see the severe and tearful muse
Outstride her dignity, and fall along.
(To Paris) Begin!
PARIS.
Most mighty and most honoured Cæsar,
I cannot speak for shame.
Petr.Why, man, thou’st spoken.
Ner. He opens well.
Petr. Like the nurse in Seneca’s tragedy.
Par. The tale I bring, my lords, is little suited
To make your sport.
Petr.No?
Ner.This is excellent.2011
Pop. I think he is in earnest.
Ner.’Tis his art.
Par. I am a messenger now, and no actor,
Sent by your royal aunt Domitia
To unmask a thing, which, though the gods be praised
That in discovery have wrought prevention,
Is yet a damnèd plot ....
Ner. (rising). A plot, a plot![All rise.
Stand off; stand off! a plot, thou say’st? a plot?
Pop. (aside to Nero). Pray heaven this prove not now
some fresh contrivance
Of the empress.
Ner.Stand all aside. Art thou in earnest?
Par. Pardon me, Cæsar. Did this plot concern
Less than thy life ....
Ner.My life! by all the gods,
Speak but his name who dares.
Grant me indulgence?
Ner.Speak, fool, or thou diest.
Par. The matter is disclosed by certain freedmen
Engaged by the empress.
Ner.Ah!
Pop. (to Nero).Said I not so?
Ner. Be this proved, ’tis the last.
Pop. (to Nero).Ay, till the next.
Ner. Paris, as thou would’st live another moment,
Speak now but truth.
Par. (shows a paper). See here the evidence.
If Cæsar read this, ’twill give certain colour
To worst suspicion. Here are writ the names.
Ner. Read me the names.
Par.Rubellius Plautus.
Ner.Ha!
Enough. I know ’tis true the villain’s blood
Hath from Augustus equal claim with mine.
Who else?
Par. Balbillus and Arruntius Stella,
With Fænius Rufus, and your royal mother,
And some who ’scape the crime disclosing it.
Ner. I’ll have their lives to-night.
Tig.I pray now, Cæsar,
Grant me this order.
Ner.Nay, who are ye?
Go, Tigellinus, fetch me Burrus hither.
Par. I have his name set down with the conspiracy.
Ner. Burrus?
Par.’Tis question of him, nothing certain.
Ner. Escort him here unarmed; I’ll speak with him.
Tig. Cæsar, I go.[Exit.
Ner.Give me thy paper, sirrah.
What have we here?[Reads.
Petr. (to Servt.) Call me my servant there.
Anic. Wilt thou go?
Petr.Ay, ’tis sadly out of place,
This business at this time. Look, Anicetus,
Thou’rt new to Cæsar’s suppers; let me tell thee
There’s ever something wrong. See how he takes it!
Mad, mad!
Ner. (aside). I see. Plautus. This hits my life:
Britannicus being dead, that hope cut off,
She looks to Plautus’ claim: and I to be
Poisoned or what appears not: yet I doubt not
Poisoned. ’Tis found in time. Now ’tis plain war;
The strongest wins. Poison! ’Tis life for life.
Nay, maybe already I have swallowed down
Some death-steeped morsel; ay, this very night
Have tasted of it, and the subtle drug
Runs in my veins concocting: my spirit sickens,
I faint and tremble. What is it?
Anic. (advancing).Cæsar, a word.2060
Ner. What would’st thou say?
Anic. (to Ner.)’Tis I can do this thing.
None that be here lack will: I have the means.
’Twere easy, would you give me the command.
Ner. What would be easy?
Anic.Why, this thing that hangs,
Which you for Rome so wisely, and for you
Rome and your friends have wished. If but your foe
Step on a ship of mine, I’ll beg my death
If it touch land again. We go to Baiæ,
And there upon the hazard of the sea
May this disorder sleep.
Enter Burrus with Tigellinus.
Ner. (to Anic.)I thank thy zeal;2070
There is no need; give way.—Burrus, thou’rt called
Upon a stern occasion. Is’t not death
To any man or woman whosoe’er
That plots to murder Cæsar?
BURRUS.
Death deserved.
Ner. Here be the names of some who thus offend.
Thine is amongst them: of thine honesty
I am too well persuaded to demand
More proof than this, that thou do execute
All these conspirators to-night.
Bur.—Cæsar
Is not mistaken in me. Let me see
The names.[Takes paper and reads.
Par. (aside). Now may Jove blast the general’s wits,
Else we be lost.
Petr. (to Anic.) Take my advice. (going).
Anic. (to Petr.)Nay, nay,
I’ll see it out.[Exit Petronius.
Bur. (aside). What’s this? Why, ’tis mere nonsense.—
What evidence hath Cæsar of this plot?
Ner. Confession of the traitors. Paris brings it
Fresh from Domitia.
Bur.Now, with your permission,
I’ll question Paris.
Ner.Question! why, is’t not plain?
Question is treasonous; and thou to question,
Whose name the black suspicion pricks! wilt thou
Question?—who hast the deepest cause of all
For sure conviction? Is’t not horrible
That I, to whose security the empire
Looks for stability, should most of all
Live an uneasy and precarious life,
And find no remedy because my ministers,
Who should be over-zealous to protect me
Even from imagined danger, shut their eyes
And ears to plots and perils which I hear
My slaves and women prate of?
Bur.Cæsar, the matter
Demands inquiry. That you have been much wronged
Is clear: by whom is doubtful. Let me pray
You save your judgment from reproach of haste,
And hear what I advise.
Ner.Speak; I will hear.
Speak.
Bur. First dismiss the company: ’tis ill
To have had this audience.
Ner.Friends, you are all dismissed.
Begone without a word: this business presses.
Pop. (to Nero). Have some one with you, Nero; are you advised?
Keep a guard while you can.
Ner. (to Pop.)Nay, have no fear.
Pop. I would not trust him. Did not Paris say
His name was with the rest?
Ner. (to Pop.)Be not afraid.—2110
Good night, my lords. (To Bur.) Shall Paris stay?
Bur.No, none.
Ner. Paris, await without; the rest go home.
[Anic. Tig. and Par. go out: Poppæa tarries.
Pop. (to Nero). Oh, do not trust this man!
Ner. (to Pop.)He’s not my enemy.
Pop. I fear to leave thee with him.
Ner.Have no fear.
Pop. Could he not kill thee?
Ner.Nay, nay.
Pop.Oh, he will.
Alas! alas! Oh! oh![Faints.
Ner.Why, thou must go.
[Exit Nero carrying out Poppæa.
Bur. (solus). Be hanged! the fool’s gone too.
Re-enter Nero.
Ner.Now, Burrus, now.
Art thou my friend?
Bur.—We are alone, and while
There’s none to hear, you must excuse a soldier
If he speak plainly, Cæsar.
Ner.Indeed, Burrus,2120
Thou art my only friend; speak as a friend.
Bur. I have heard it said the German warriors,
Meet o’er their cups, and, hot with wine, resolve
Matters of state; but ere they put in act
Their midnight policy, they meet again
In morning hours to see if sober sense
Approve what frenzied zeal inspired. The custom
Has been applauded. Chance has given to you
The one half of the method: use the other.
2130
Ner. I am not drunk.
Bur.Such wandering judgment, Cæsar,
Asks such excuse.
Ner.My judgment wanders not.
I am cool. My face is flushed?....
Bur.How will this look
If, sitting here at table, at a breath
Of hearsay you commit to instant death
Your mother and four noble citizens,
With others of less note?
Ner.Choose I the time?
Shall the conspirators be pardoned then
’Cause Cæsar sups? or say Cæsar must fast
And touch no wine, lest when his blood be warm
Some treasonous practice creep into his ears,
And they who would befriend conspiracy
May point suspicion on his judgment! Now
Is a good hour for treason; Cæsar sups,
And must not credit it.
Bur.I do not blame
Your feast.
Ner. No more then: let it be to-night.
Bur. What! on a charge unproven?
Bur. See, you acquit me; why not then the rest?
Ner. Acquit my mother! would’st thou persuade me, Burrus,
She can be acquitted?
Bur.Of the deeds she has done
She is guilty; for this action charged against her,
It is not hers.
Ner.Oh, more, much more is hers2151
Than thou dost dream. The crime men charge on me,
My brother’s death, Burrus, indeed, I swear,
Though thou believe me not, yet if my part
In that were separate and weighed ’gainst hers ...
I would not tell thee... Oh, I had been happy had I
But heard thee then.
Bur.Your peace even now as much
Hangs on good counsel. You are hot: be guided, Cæsar.
Ner. Nay, now thou’rt changed, thou’rt wrong: thou goest round
To the other side. If thou would’st give the advice
I need, I’d take it gladly. Listen, Burrus:
I have another secret; if I tell thee
Thou may’st befriend me. I will tell thee. Hark!
’Tis this: I fear my mother; I cannot sound
Her heartlessness; my terror shames the shows
And feeble efforts of my trust and love.
I have read her eyes—
Oh, there’s no tenderness, no pious scruple
Writ in my favour there; nothing but hate.
To think that I am her son but whets to fierceness
Her fury, and her hellish plots are laid
More recklessly and safely that she deems
I am not knit of that obdurate nerve
To sear the tender place of natural love.
I would not do it, Burrus, though I fear her
And hate her, as I must; but let it end
Ere it be worse. I pray thee do it, Burrus.
Bur. The cause of fear is magnified by terror:
The present circumstance were amply met
By Agrippina’s exile, which I urge,
As ever, now. But let such sentence rest
On proven crime.
Ner.Oh, thus were ne’er an end.
Done, we stand clear.
Bur.Thus done, ’twere a foul crime:
And if you have found remorse in what before
Was schemed in fear and haste, consider, Cæsar,
If you would thank me for subserviency
Did I obey; for your sake I refuse.
Ner. Eh!
Bur.I refuse.
Bur.So be it.
Take my demission. But remember, Cæsar,
That he who fills my place, handles the power
That holds you up; he that hath strength to help
May find the will to hurt you.
Ner.I meant not that.
I trust thee, Burrus: I’ll be guided by thee.
What wilt thou do?
Bur.The wisest course is thus:
To-morrow Seneca and I will go
With chosen witnesses to Agrippina,
And lay the charge. If she draw quit of it,
Well; but if not, I promise that her place
Shall not win favour of me.
Ner.Dost thou promise?
Bur. I promise that.
Ner.And if there be a doubt,2200
Thou’lt wrest it to my side?
Bur.I promise that.
Ner. ’Tis death.
Bur.Ay, death.
Ner.If that be thy last word
I am free. I would I had more such friends as thou.
But bring it not back; take all my power. Thou saidst
I had no cause for fear?
Ner. I think thou’rt right.
Bur.Now, Cæsar, I will leave you.
Your spirits are much moved.
Ner.Indeed I swear
I am not moved. There was no need to blame
My supper, Burrus.
Bur.Nay, I blamed it not.
2210
Ner. I am not sensible to wine as others.
Of all I meet there’s none, no, not the best,
Can eat and drink as I. There’s something, Burrus,
In that. I think if I, who rule the world,
Could not enjoy my wine, that were a blemish
Which scorn might hit.
Bur.I never blamed your supper.
Ner. Hadst thou been there, thou would’st have praised it well.
I have learned much lately in these things. Petronius,
Ay, he’s the man—I’m blessed in this Petronius.
Thou know’st him?
Bur.Ay, and would not keep his hours.
’Tis late, to bed.
Ner.Well, Burrus, I’ll to bed.2220
But thou must sup with me. I’d gladly have thee
One of our party. I shall tell Petronius.
Bur. Cæsar, good night.
Where did I leave Poppæa? I remember.
Good night, Burrus, good night.[Exit.
Bur.Now may brave Bacchus
Reclaim the field; for me, I’ll gather up
This quenched brand, and be off. What must men think
Of Cæsar, who would fetch him with such trash?
The Augusta marry Plautus! Master Paris
For this will need his wit to save his skin.[Exit.
SCENE · 5
A small room in Agrippina’s house. Enter AGRIPPINA and FULVIA.
AGRIPPINA.
2231
My days are weary, Fulvia. Know you not
Some art to make time fly? another month
Of prison and neglect would kill me quite.
FULVIA.
Is’t not the change more than the solitude
Vexes your majesty?
For isolation, and even by my friends
I am utterly forsaken.
Ful.Junia Silana
Was very constant, tho’ we have not seen her
Now for four days.
Agr.Bah! she’s my foe. I wronged her
That way a woman ne’er forgives. ’Twas I
Broke off her match with Sextius, you remember.
Ful. Your true friends dare not come: they stand aloof,
Watching the time to do you service, madam.
Agr. You speak of Pallas: there’s none else.
Ful.The lot
Of late befallen your majesty is such
As all our sex have borne, who have not raised
Nor much demeaned themselves beyond the rest.
Agr. True; but ’twas never mine; I made escape.
They that would lock us up in idleness,
Shut us from all affairs, treat us as dolls
Appointed for their pleasure; these but make it
The easier for a woman with a will
To have her way. Life lacks machinery
To thwart us. Had I been a man, methinks
I had done as well, but never with the means
I have used. Nay, nay, ’tis easy for a woman,
Be she but quick and brave, to have her will.
Enter Servant, who speaks to Fulvia, and she to
Agrippina.
Burrus and Seneca you say! Admit them.
Fulvia, here’s one apiece: make your own choice;
I’ve none, and can be generous. Pray come in.
Enter Burrus and Seneca with two others.
Come in, my lords, come in. You are very welcome.
Look, Fulvia, now if Mercury have not heard
Our prayers and sent us noble visitors!
Pray you be seated. Alas, in this poor house
I fear I cannot show you the reception
You and your gallant followers deserve.
’Tis not what thou’rt accustomed to at home,
Seneca, I know: pardon it. Thou lookest cold.
Come near the fire: pray heaven this bitter weather
May not have touched thy chest. A Gallic winter!
I can remember no such fall of snow
In March these twenty years; but looking back,
I find one noted in my journal then.
How goes your health, my lords?
SENECA.
Well, thank you, madam.
Agr. I am very glad: your visit is well meant;
It cheers me much.
BURRUS.
The truth is, madam, we come
At Nero’s order.
Agr.Ha! then I strike you off[Rising.
My list of friends again. I thought as much;
I wondered how you dared me this affront
In my last poor retreat, here where I sit
Alone and friendless, in the worst disgrace
Woman can suffer;—ay, and caused by you.
But learn that, if nought else, this house is mine;
If ’tis so small that it can welcome little,
It can exclude the more. At Cæsar’s order
Ye have forgot your manners, now at mine
Resume them. Ye have done his hest, begone!
Begone!
Sen.I pray you, madam, hear the message;
We may not leave without delivering it.
Burrus will speak it.
Agr.Oh—Burrus speak it.2290
If Burrus speak, the affair is mighty black.
There’s none like him to break an ugly business.
[Sitting.
Hey! Well, we have nought to do, so let us hear
The last of the court. Octavia’s divorce?
Sen. Believe me, lady, I feel much aggrieved
In all that hurts you here.
Agr.Stranger than fiction.
Now what’s the matter?
Bur.There has been information
To Cæsar of plots against his life, the which
The informers charge on you. This the chief item,
That you have entered with Rubellius Plautus
Into conspiracy to set him up
In Nero’s place, and to dethrone your son.
I come with Seneca and these witnesses
To hear the answer, which your majesty
No doubt hath very ready, and accordingly
To acquit you of the charge.
Agr.—Excellent!
Now, Seneca, ’s thy turn; or will these gentlemen?
Fulvia, we have depositions to be made:
Fetch pens and paper; all shall be in order.
Sen. Madam, remember on what past occasions
Cæsar hath shown suspicion, and believe,
Whate’er your innocency, there is cause
To make it clear.
Agr.Thy prudence, Seneca,
Is vanity, not kindness; spare it, pray.
Here is your paper, gentlemen: I’ll give you
Matter for Cæsar’s reading. Tell me first
Who’s my accuser?
Junia Silana, the other is your sister
Domitia: they bring forth as evidence
The informers, certain freedmen, Atimetus,
Iturius, and Calvisius, who affirm
That you have lately been on terms with Plautus,
Stirring him up to make an enterprise
Against the state; that you, by marrying him
(Who by the mother’s side may claim a line
As rightly from Augustus as doth Nero),
Might reinstate yourself, dethrone your son,
And bring disaster to the commonwealth.
That is the charge, of which we are come to hear
The refutation, not to press the count.
Agr. Pah! You’re a brace of idiots, if ye think
This needs refuting. Who’s Silana, pray,
That if she speak, the very bonds of nature
And heaven must be repealed to give her credit,
Saying a mother plots to kill her son?
I marvel not that she, being childless, dares
Avouch such madness, never having known
How near the affections of all mothers are,
Nor that a mother cannot shift her love
Like an adulteress;—nay, nor do I wonder
That she should find among her freedmen those,
Who, having in luxury spent all their substance,
Will for the promise of the old lady’s purse
Sustain the accusation: but that for this
I should be seriously held suspect
Of the infamy of parricide, or Cæsar
Of giving ear to it, this I marvel at.
As for Domitia, I would thank my sister
Even for her jealousy, were but the strife
One of good will and kindness towards my Nero.
But now she wastes her time with her man Paris,
Composing as ’twere fables for the stage.
Let her go back to Baiæ and her fishpools;
They kept her trifling spirit well employed,
When by my efforts Nero’s first adoption,
Proconsular authority, consulate,
And other steps to empire were procured.
Are ye now answered?—
Or is there any can be brought to show
That I have practised with the city cohorts,
Corrupted the loyalty of the provinces,
Solicited the freedmen to rebellion?
Or to what purpose think ye? Had Britannicus
Been Cæsar, then I grant I might have lived;
But if ’tis Plautus, or whoever else
Should get the power, how should I lack accusers
To charge me, not with words escaped in passion,
But deeds and crimes—crimes—ay, Seneca, crimes,
Of which I could not hope to be acquitted
Save as a mother by her son? And ye
Think I shall here defend myself to you!
Send Cæsar to me. By the gods I swear
I’ll be revenged on all who have had a hand
In this most cowardly and senseless plot.
I wait him here: tell him that to none other
Will I resolve this matter.
Bur.Be content
To say so much in form, that our report
Suffice for your acquittal.
Agr.I bid you go.
Bur. Cæsar shall hear your message.
Sen.Madam, we go.
Agr. Ay, go, good fellows; though ye have roused
my passion,2380
Your coming here hath cheered me wondrously.
Nay, if ye have ever such another matter,
Bring it again; be not abashed, but come;
Or send your wives, and those two gentlemen,
Whose names I know not. My lords, your humble servant.
[Exeunt Burrus and Seneca and two Gentlemen.
Plautus! now is it possible I was wrong
Not to have thought of Plautus? No, I laugh,
’Tis merely laughable. At forty-five
To marry a pretender; and Plautus too!
He would not have me. Fulvia, do you think
That Plautus wants to marry me? Ha! ha!
Is it my beauty, think you, or my virtue,
Or my good fortune tempts the stoic? Oh,
Domitia, oh, you are dull. I cannot fear
This plot. We shall retire with more than honour.
’Twas strange, I think, that Pallas was not struck;
His name escaped.
Ful.There is ample reason, madam.
They say that in his house he holds such caution
As not to speak before his slaves. His orders
Are given by nod and sign, or if there’s need
He writes: there’s none can say they have heard him speak.
Agr. May good come of it. ’Twould be hard indeed
If they should exile Plautus for a fear
Lest I should marry him. That were a fate
Of irony. Why, give the man his choice
Of marrying me and exile, would he not
Fly to the pole? Poor Plautus! marry Plautus!
Both. Ha! ha! ha! he! he!
Enter Nero. Agrippina is seated.
NERO.
I find you merry, mother; the gods be praised
That you deny the impeachment.
Agr.Really, Nero,
Burrus’ memory is getting very short
If he said I denied it. I did not.
Ner. You did not?
Agr.Nay, I’d not be at the pains.
Ner. Called you me hither?
Agr.Ay, you seem misled.
I guess who ’tis. But let that pass. I hoped
I might advise you privately; I knew
You would not wish it known. Now, was I wrong?
Ner. Do you deny what is affirmed against you?
Agr. No, son: for if you wished to take my life,
Why should I rob you of this grand pretence?
Yet since you cannot, and the charge itself
But moves my laughter, as you overheard,
My only wish is you should now retire
With dignity, and act as Cæsar ought.
Ner. (aside). This then is added to my shames.
Agr.What say you?
Fulvia, await without. [Exit Fulvia.] Who brought this to thee?
Ner. Paris.
Agr.The player! when?
Ner.Last night at supper.
Agr. Tell me, didst thou believe it? is it possible?
Thou didst! Whence gottest thou thy wits I wonder;
Certain they are not mine, no, nor thy father’s:
I think they came of Claudius by adoption.
Dost thou believe it still?
Ner.Whate’er I have done
Was on advice.
Agr.A pious caution truly.
Is this thy trust? Yet, yet I must forgive thee.
See, I was angered. Nay, ’twas not thy judgment:
I know who leads. But for these foolish women
I sentence exile.
Ner.Sentence whom to exile?
Agr. The two devisers. Yet I think my sister
Is harmless; but the other, that Silana—
Ner. Silana must be banished?2440
Agr.Judge her, Nero,
When thou hast heard. She and thy aunt Domitia
Have been the two who, in my sad retirement,
Have visited me most. Day after day
They have made a show of kindness, finding joy
In my disgrace, to view it; and have but left me
To try this trick.
Ner. (aside). ’Tis plain I have been fooled.
Agr. For those that brought the tale, thou knowest that they
Must taste the penalties they sought to inflict;
That thou must know; but ’tis not all. The acquittal
Of those accused will not be full without
Some honour shown them. Best among the names
Stand Fænius Rufus and Arruntius Stella,
Who may have city posts: gentle Balbillus,
Who has long deserved it, must be paid at last
With a proconsulate. For myself, thou knowest
I have taken all disgrace so patiently
That I expect some boon, though yet I fear
To ask; but when I have seen my slandered friends
Honoured, I’ll write it thee.
Ner.I shall be quick
To punish and to make amends. ’Tis just
Towards Burrus, I should tell you from the first
He took your part.
Agr.What could he else? Now, Nero,
I have done: go home, and there resolve the matter
With common sense; take Burrus into counsel
As to what penalties and what promotions
Shall be distributed. Before the people
Remember that some feeling must be shown,
And anger for effronteries attempted
Against your majesty. Now go, the affair
Has somewhat tired me.—Nay, touch me not; farewell.
Ner. I see you are right; farewell.
Which I will write to thee.[Exit Nero.
Excellent this—I have not had my way
Thus for a long long while: ay, now is my time
To strike. I’ll venture with a letter to him
And claim my boon, that he dismiss Poppæa.
There’s much to say on that which may seem aimed
More at his good than mine; and if she have plunged
In this false step, his vanity being touched
May shake his liking. I will do it at once.[Exit.
SCENE · 6
A room in the Palace. Enter NERO and POPPÆA.
NERO.
All for thy sake was planned, and now my pleasure
In scheming thine is fled; for what is Baiæ,
And what Minerva’s feast, blue skies and seas,
Or games, or mirth, or wine, or the soft season,
If thou deny me? Prithee say thou’lt come.
POPPÆA.
Nay, I’ll not go.
Ner.Thou wilt not?
Pop.Nay, I cannot.
Ner. Cannot to Cæsar?
Pop.Prove me then thou’rt Cæsar,
And not a ward.
Ner.A ward!
Pop.I said a ward.
May I not see thee vexed? ’Tis what men whisper,
Who dare not vex thee. Well, thy mother’s child,
So much that at her beck thou forfeitest
Empire and liberty.
Ner.Wouldst thou enrage me!
What dost thou mean, Poppæa?
Pop.Deny not that:
If ’tis not that hinders our marriage, then
The case, I fear, blackens. I, who can smile
At that, must weep another cause. I’ll think
Thou’rt tired of me.
Ner.Now by what sign?
Pop.Maybe
Thou hast seen a better beauty, and repented
The promise given to me.
Ner.O treason, treason!
2500
Pop. Thinkest my blood unworthy of alliance
With thine—tho’, truth, my ancestors have triumphed.
Ner. Who dares that lie shall bleed.
Pop.Or that our bed
Is not like to be blest.
With all their oracles avert the omen.
Pop. Or that I urge my marriage for advancement;
And thou, doubting my love, pressest denial
To proof of faith.
Ner.Ay, that is it; thou’st hit it.
Pop. Or that I, once thy wife, would cross thy mother,
Divulge her crimes, the hate the senate bear her,
And last, though that’s well known, how she hates thee.
Ner. Speak of this once for all, then let the jest
Be dead.
Pop.Nay, ’tis no jest, for Agrippina2512
Will never love a daughter who loves thee.
Restore me to my husband. I were happier
In any place, howe’er remote from Rome,
Where thy disgrace and wrongs can but be spoken,
Not seen and felt as here. See why I go.
Ner. Poppæa, since I have never hid from thee
My quarrel with my mother, thou mayst know
It draws to end.
Pop.Oh, is’t the turn for kindness?2520
Hath she been kind again? Why, ’tis deception.
When her plot failed she cast it off, and now
Exults: ’tis her fresh confidence seems kind.
Ner. ’Twas not her plot. Or else I’d rather think
She put the snare to catch my foolish aunt,
Who blindly took the bait.
Pop.Then she pretended
Treason, that she might better hurt her sister:
And yet can win thy trust!
Ner.Nay, heaven forbid;
I trust her not.
Pop.She hates me.
Ner.Nay, her kinship
Is jealous for Octavia; but ...
Pop.Ah, true!2530
To kill one’s husband, plot against one’s son,
Should leave unsatisfied some tender feelings
To spend upon a step-child. Why, she knows
Those arts which manage you would not gull me,
A woman not her child. Her whole design
Is bent to thwart our marriage; and she will.
I know it.
Ner. I swear that were this proved against her,
Came it to a question ’twixt herself and thee,
Which to take, which to lose, then not a moment
Would I delay: the blow I have often sworn
To strike should fall.
Enter Messenger.
MESSENGER.
A letter from the Augusta.[Exit.
Pop. Now, as she loves me, this is mine.
Ner.Not so.
Pop. Then as thou lovest me.
Ner.Well.
Pop. (reading).Ho! ho! ho! ho!
Now shines the sun at noon.
Ner.What is’t?
Pop.I read?
Ner. Read then.
Pop. (reads). To her dearest son. Ha! ha! ha!
When last we met thou wilt remember to have confessed some shame for wrong done to me. The wrong I forgive, but eagerly seize on thy sorrow to ask of thee, in regard for thine own happiness, this only favour. ’Tis my earnest prayer and advice that thou dismiss Poppæa. 2551
Ner. Ha! writes she so?
Pop.Attend, the reasons follow.
(Reading.) Beware of her: nor think that I grudge thee the happiness which thou now findest in her. Marriage with her can lead only to thy misery. I know her well.
Now hear my character.
Ner.Give me the letter.
Pop. She is vain, deceitful, self-seeking, and, being by nature cold, hath the art to assume the mask of passion; and ’neath the show of virtue designedly conceals her wickedness and mischief. She loves thee no better than she loves Otho. 2561
Ner. Give me the letter.
Pop.Nay, one sentence more.
Believe a woman sees further than a man, since to her eyes beauty is no veil.
She grants me beauty then.[Gives letter to Nero.
Ner. (reading). ’Tis so, ’tis so. Ye gods! and thou
wert right.
Poppæa, this is the end. Come not to Baiæ.
Wait my return.
Pop.What’s now to do, I pray?
Ner. Ask not: when I return I shall be free.
We will be married.
Pop.Will you banish her?2570
Ner. Ask nothing.
Pop.From her exile still her plottings
Will reach to Rome.
Ner.Not so, for she shall go
Whence nothing reaches Rome.
Pop.Oh, now I fear
I have said too much; let not my love o’ercome thee.
Maybe she meant not this.
Ner.Thou meddle not!
Pop. Oh, but at least no crimes, Nero, no crimes!
Promise me that; rather I’ll fly to-night.
Ner. Poppæa, in earnest of the happy day
When thou wilt be my wife, I bid thee now
Depart.
Pop. (kissing him). Husband, I go.[Exit.
Ner.What ho! what ho!
Enter a Servant.
Is Anicetus in the palace?
SERVANT.
Ay, Cæsar.
Ner. Go, bid him hither straight.[Exit Servant.
It shall be done.
Ay, now it shall be done. Let me consider;
I must be cool, lest I be foiled once more.
Where lies my hindrance? not in her; she has twice
Deceived me and escaped: now in my turn
I steal her weapon, and can use it better,
Having been plain before. Then Seneca ...
He shall not know, so are his scruples quiet.
For mine, they are hushed already; but ’twere best
Recount the terms which reason can oppose
To too rebellious nature: first there’s my motive,
Huge as the earth; liberty, happiness,
Empire: that cannot slide, I fear not that.
Then there’s the ground of justice; Claudius’ death,
O’er which the executive too long hath slept
In Cæsar’s piety: the sentence now
O’ertakes the murderess with a double score,
Since she by her conspiracy contrived
Britannicus should die ... ay, for his death
The heavy penalty hangs o’er some head;
Now let it fall on hers,—so I am quit.
All this condemns her, long-expected justice
Cries, and occasion hurries on the hand.
Ay, ay, I am clear. Poppæa being my stake,
I cannot shrink nor swerve. What was’t she wrote?
Why here is more.[Reads.
Be with me in this matter,
But if thou should’st refuse, we are worse foes.
She dares the threat.
Enter Anicetus.
ANICETUS.
Cæsar hath summoned me.
2610
Ner. Good Anicetus, tell me, is there none
Greater than Cæsar?
Anic.Nay, Cæsar, there is none.
Ner. But were there one to whom it might be said
Cæsar owed life and fortune—dost thou take me?
Anic. Cæsar would say the Augusta.
Ner.Nay, thou’rt dull:
’Twas thee I meant.
Anic.Me, Cæsar!
Ner.Dost remember
Boasting to me that thou hadst sailor means
To do a certain thing?
Anic.Ay.
Ner.Do it now.
I’ll owe thee life and fortune. Canst thou be trusted?
Anic. My love for Cæsar follows hand in hand
With his command in this.
Ner.Then do it, I say;2620
No words, no explanation. Agrippina
Will come to Baiæ: there have thou thy ship.
Anic. I will have one at Bauli, one at Baiæ:
If she take either it shall serve the turn.
Ner. Go now contrive thy means; let nothing ’scape thee
To me or any other: when ’tis done
Hold thy head high.
Anic.Cæsar, I go to do it.[Exit.
Ner. Now comes my part: ay, though it vex my soul
To stoop; tho’ this be Cæsar’s greatest wrong,
That he must patch his faultless power with guile,
And having all command, miss of his will
But for a subterfuge .... yet for this once
I’ll do it—’tis little; but to write a letter,
Feign to discard Poppæa, as mistrusting
Her love and character; and from that vantage
I surely win my mother to come forth
And join the court at Baiæ—she will come.
