The haggard hours that parted us are past;
I’ve wept my tears and have no more to shed!
I live—I live—I live! And I was dead.
Nero
(Clinging closer.)
Dead—dead—what ails the sea—‘tis going red—
(Laughter in banquet hall.)
Who’s laughing?—Mother—scourge them from the place!
Who gave the moon Poppaea’s dizzy face
To scare the sea?