POPPAEA. No?
Ah, but her child, and born but to obey.
And yet though wiser, mightier, than myself,
You shall not find in her a listener
So still, so answerable to your mood.
And, I will say it, you'll not find in her
One who has dived so deep into your soul,
Who sees—I cannot flatter—sees that greatness
Which she too long keeps under: were I you
I would be Caesar, spite of twenty mothers,
And seem the mighty poet that I am.
I'll go.
NERO. You madden me——
POPPAEA. Farewell again.
NERO. Poppaea, go not, go not. All the east
Burns in me, and the desert fires my blood.
I parch, I pine for you. My body is sand
That thirsts. I die, I perish of this thirst,
To slake it at your lips! You madden me.
[He seizes her cloak and she stands revealed.
Goddess! What shall I give thee great enough?
I'll give thee Rome—I'll give thee this great world,
And all the builded empire as a toy.
The Mediterranean shall thy mirror be,
Thy jewels all sparkling stars of heaven.
The orb of the earth—throw it on thy lap
But for a kiss—one kiss!
POPPAEA. But Agrippina?
NERO. Agrippina?
POPPAEA. No—I'll not think of it!
I'll have no violence for my sake committed.
If by some chance unlooked for she should die,
If in some far, far time she should succumb
To creeping age—then——
NERO. Then?