LUCAN. Remorse?
[NERO shakes his head.
SENECA. Jealousy then?
NERO. No, no—we have outlived
All passions: terror now alone is left us.
I have within me great capacities
For terror: fear, the last, the greatest passion!
OTHO. Can one rely on death for something new?
Some other life perhaps.
SENECA. The gods forbid!
The Power that sent us here would lead us there.
One sample is enough.
LUCAN. Death's a dull business,
Of that one may be sure. What says the poet?
'When I am dead, let fire devour the world.'
[NERO starts at these words and comes among them.
NERO. Nay, while I live! The sight! A burning world!
And to be dead and miss it! There's an end
Of all satiety: such fire imagine!
Born in some obscure alley of the poor,
Then leaping to embrace a splendid street,
Palaces, temples, morsels that but whet
Her appetite: the eating of huge forests:
Then with redoubled fury rushing high,
Smacking her lips over a continent,
And licking old civilisations up!
Then in tremendous battle fire and sea
Joined: and the ending of the mighty sea:
Then heaven in conflagration, stars like cinders
Falling in tempest: then the reeling poles
Crash: and the smouldering firmament subsides,
And last, this universe a single flame!
[OTHO, seeing the steward and musician,
who have entered, speaks.