AGRIPPINA. Peril! His or mine?
ASTROLOGER. Thine then.
AGRIPPINA. I will know all, however dark.
Finish what did so splendidly begin.
ASTROLOGER. Nero shall reign, but he shall kill his mother.
AGRIPPINA. Kill me, but reign!
Enter SENECA
SENECA. The trumpet summoned me,
And I am here.
AGRIPPINA. Seneca! Speak it low!
Caesar is dead! Nero shall climb the throne.
SENECA. I will not ask the manner of his death.
In studious ease I have protested much
Against the violent taking of a life.
But lost in action I perceive at last
That they who stand so high can falter not,
But live beyond the reaches of our blame;
That public good excuses private guile.
AGRIPPINA. You, Xenophon and Burrus, stand with me.