Harplike, endure till this last song be sung,
Then break—then break—
(Turns and mounts the steps.)
Oh Fate, to be a bard!
The way is hard, the way is very hard!
(A dim outburst of laughter from the revellers in the distance.)
II
(The same night. Nero’s private chamber in his villa at Baiae. Nero is discovered asleep in his state robes on a couch, where he has evidently thrown himself down, overcome by the stupor incident to the feast of the night. Beside the couch is a writing stand, bearing writing materials. A few lights burn dimly. Nero groans, cries out, and, as though terrified by a nightmare, sits up, trembling and staring upon some projected vision of his sleep. He is yet only half awake.)
Nero
Oh—oh—begone, blear thing!—She is not dead!