To lay my death to charge of an accident,
And hide, maybe, even my dead body, drowned
And lost in the depths of the sea. Now, being alone,
I shall need thee to aid me.
Ful.Dearest madam,2911
What can I do?
Agr.Thou must be faithful to me
Whatever happens. Hearken, I said ’twas Nero
Had done this: ’tis not so; my real enemy,
The mover, is Poppæa. I blame not Nero: