NERO. Britannicus, I voice a general wish.
Sweet is it, early and thus easily
To have garnered fame: the crown is for the few,
And these are tasked to reach it ere they die.
Oftener the laurel on grey hairs is laid,
Or on the combed tresses of the dead.
[BRITANNICUS goes to the top of the stairs to recite, and at a
sign from NERO wine is handed to him.
BRITANNICUS. This is too hot: some snow to cool it: so—
[Cold snow is put in and he drinks. He then recites.
Beside the melancholy surge I roam—
A sad exile, a stranger, sick for home:
A prince I was in my far native land
Who wander to and fro this alien sand:
Riches I had, and steeds, a glimmering crown;
Never had known a harshness or a frown.
Now must I limp and beg from door to door,
Wet with the storm, or in the sun footsore:
I, by a brother's cunning dispossessed,
Crave for these languid limbs a place of rest.
Pity me, robbed of all!
[He gives a cry and falls headlong. His limbs quiver a moment
and then are still. Meanwhile the shower of roses has slackened.
There is a dead silence, and in the silence slowly all the guests
turn and look at NERO, who rises, with the emerald in his eye.
NERO. Lift up the prince and bear him to his room.
I do entreat that none of you will stir
Or rise perturbed: my brother, since his birth,
Was ever thus: the fit will pass from him.
Refill the cups: proceed we with the feast!
[There is an attempt to renew the feasting, but soon a scene of uproar and confusion arises, and the guests leave the tables in alarm.
[AGRIPPINA alone remains unmoved, and then, as the guests have departed in disorder, she confronts NERO alone.
AGRIPPINA. Thou hast done this.
NERO. Mother, I am thy son!