[A boat rows up to quay.
My lady, O my lady, what’s the matter?
Enter Agrippina up from the quay, clothes dripping; the boat remains.
Agr. An accident, and I am escaped by swimming:
Yet thou must know, Fulvia, ’twas a contrivance
To take my life—the kindness was all hollow—
A dastardly contrivance: ’twas the ship
Seleucus spoke of. Look, I am hurt in the shoulder,
Yet ’tis not much.
Ful.Alack, alack, my lady!