Part 2

_SENECA_: Glowing young manhood must be guided more.

_NERO_: I think there is enough advice for this period of life.

_SENECA_: May the gods always sanction thy policy.

_NERO_: I should be foolish to fear the gods for what I myself have done.

_SENECA_: Thou shouldst fear them all the more since they have given so much power to thee.

_NERO_: Fortune bestows all upon me.

_SENECA_: Trust not too much to her compliance. The goddess is fickle.

_NERO_: He is incompetent who does not know what he may do.

_SENECA_: It is commendable for a ruler to do what is right, not what he may.

_NERO_: The crowd tramples upon the humble.

_SENECA_: But it crushes the object of its hatred.

_NERO_: The sword guards the emperor.

_SENECA_: But loyalty better.

_NERO_: It is imperative that they fear--

_SENECA_: Compulsion is dangerous.

_NERO_: And that they obey my commands.

_SENECA_: Grant privileges.

_NERO_: I will be master.

_SENECA_: This procedure may breed conspiracies.

_NERO_: That the sword may destroy this object of contempt?

_SENECA_: May this crime never happen!

_NERO_: Shall I suffer my life, besides, to be sought so that, unavenged and despised, I may suddenly be overwhelmed. Even far distant exile did not subdue Plautus or Sulla whose persistent wrath arms the servants of crime for my death, since there exists in our city great partiality for these absent men and many foster the hopes of the exiles. May all my possible enemies be put to the sword! May my hated wife perish and follow her beloved brother! May whatever is noble cease to be!

_SENECA_: It is glorious for a man to be eminent among illustrious men, to plan for the fatherland, to spare affliction, to refrain from fierce carnage, to control wrath, to give quiet to the world and peace to his own generation. This is the greatest virtue; by this path Heaven is gained. Augustus, the first father of the fatherland, thus attained the stars and is worshiped as a god in the temples.[66] Yet Fortune long tossed him about on land and sea, through all the vicissitudes of war until he crushed the enemy of his father. He bequeathed to thee his own divinity without bloodshed; he held the reins of empire with skillful hand; he made submissive to thy will the land and sea. Bitter envy disappears conquered by blessed harmony. The applause of the equestrian order and of the senate is aroused. Thou, the author of peace and the arbiter of the human race, chosen by the plebeians’ entreaties and the judgment of the senate,[67] now by a sacred resemblance art ruling the world as father of the fatherland.

Rome implores thee to guard this appellation and entrusts to thee her own citizens.

_NERO_: It is the gift of the gods since Rome herself and the senate are devoted to me and since fear of me has wrested prayers and submissive words from reluctant citizens. For a ruler to save men hostile to him and to the fatherland and proud of their royal race is madness, when with a word he can command his enemies to die. Brutus armed his bands to kill a leader from whom he had received prosperity.[68] Unconquerable in battle, father of nations and equal to Jove, Caesar crowned with honors fell by the wicked crime of the citizens. How many murders of her own citizens has Rome seen? How many noble men have been killed by divine Augustus who deserved Heaven by his sacred virtue? How many youths and old men has he scattered over the world and destined to bitter death when from fear of death they fled from their own homes and the sword of the triumvirate?[69] Sorrowing fathers saw their sons’ heads exposed on the Rostra, but they could neither weep nor groan for their own children, even when the forum was defiled by dreadful corruption and the thick blood dripped over the putrid countenances. There was no end to bloodshed and murder.

Gloomy Philippi long frightened the birds and savage wild beasts. The Sicilian Sea engulfed the fleets and men often abandoning their fellow countrymen, and the world was shaken by the mighty power of the triumvirate. Conquered, with his ships prepared for flight, and soon to die, Antony sought the Nile.[70] The Egyptian Cleopatra a second time drained the blood of a Roman leader.[71] Now he has reached the lower world. Yonder is buried civil war which long and wickedly has been carried on. Finally the wearied victor sheathed his sword dulled by fierce wounds, and fear held the empire. By the arms and fidelity of the soldiery he was safe; he was pronounced a god by the noble piety of the son, deified after death, and worshipped in the temples. Stars will be destined for me, too, if I shall be the first to attack with a cruel sword whatever is hostile to me and shall establish a home for a noble offspring.

_SENECA_: The glory of the Claudian house, the daughter of a god, and chosen like Juno for the bridal couch of a brother, will fill thy home with divine progeny.

_NERO_: The vile mother withheld confidence from her daughter’s husband, and never has the soul of Octavia been united with mine.[72]

_SENECA_: Love is scarcely intelligible in youthful years; overcome with shame it conceals its passion.

_NERO_: I, too, long made this same mistake, but the unmistakable signs of her lonely heart and features revealed her hatred for me. Yet burning indignation has determined to avenge this. I have found a wife worthy of my couch--a woman of noble family and magnificent bearing.[73] She is more beautiful than Venus, or the wife of Jove, or the stately goddess of war.

_SENECA_: Let the goodness, fidelity, modesty, and character of the wife please the husband. The good alone continue to be second to none in mind and spirit. The days, one by one, rob the flower of its beauty.[74]

_NERO_: The gods have bestowed every gift upon one woman, and the fates have decreed her for me.

_SENECA_: Love will abandon thee. Do not trust rashly.

_NERO_: Can Jove himself keep away this tyrant of the heavens who penetrates the savage waves of Neptune and the kingdoms of Pluto and draws the celestial deities from their home above?

_SENECA_: The mind of man assumes that swift Love is a pitiless god. It arms his divine hands with bow and arrow; it gives him a cruel torch and believes him to be the son of Venus and Vulcan. Love is the powerful force of the mind and the caressing warmth of the spirit. It is fostered in youth and nourished in extravagance and idleness, among the joyful blessings of Fortune. If thou shalt cease to nourish and to cherish this Love, it falls in a short time and destroys its own strength.

_NERO_: I consider Love to be the greatest reason for existence; through it, passions spring up. Love is harmless; the human race is always refreshed by pleasing love which soothes the fierce wild beasts. May Cupid bring to me nuptial torches, and may he join Poppaea to me in wedlock.

_SENECA_: The grief of the people can hardly endure these nuptials, nor can sacred loyalty consent.[75]

_NERO_: Shall I alone be forbidden what is permitted to all?

_SENECA_: The people always exact greater deeds from the emperor.[76]

_NERO_: It pleases me to test whether good will rashly harbored in their minds dies overpowered by my strength.

_SENECA_: Thou hadst better calmly gratify thy subjects.

_NERO_: It is bad government when the common people rule the leader.

_SENECA_: When the people can obtain no redress, they justly mourn.

_NERO_: It is right to extort by force what entreaties can not accomplish?

_SENECA_: It is difficult to refuse.

_NERO_: It is a crime for an emperor to be forced.

_SENECA_: Let him yield.

_NERO_: Rumor will report him conquered.

_SENECA_: Rumor is light and airy.

_NERO_: Although that may be, it brands many people.

_SENECA_: It fears men in lofty positions.

_NERO_: Yet not less does it censure.

_SENECA_: Rumor can easily be suppressed. Let the favors of divine Claudius, and the youth, fidelity, and modesty of Octavia appease thee.

_NERO_: Yet cease to urge me. Already thou hast threatened me too much. I have power to do even what SENECA condemns. Too long have I delayed my solemn vows to Poppaea since she is soon to become the mother of my child. Why do I not appoint tomorrow for our nuptials?

_AGRIPPINA_: I have come from the lower world to this wicked bridal, carrying the Stygian torch in my blood-stained hand. Poppaea as a bride veils herself with these fires of passion which my vengeance and anguish will turn to bitter destruction. Even among the shades, the memory of my unnatural murder haunts me, and I am oppressed by my unavenged spirit. Deservedly I recall the deadly reward of the ship, the recompense for my ambition, and the night when I deplored my shipwreck. I had vowed to lament the violent death of my companions and my son’s cruel crime--he gave me no opportunity to weep but repeated his wicked crime. Saved from a watery grave, slain by the sword, defiled by wounds, among my own household gods, I breathed my last, nor did I quench with my blood my son’s hatred. The fierce tyrant rages at the very name of mother. He desires to forget benefits; he destroys his mother’s statues and titles of honor throughout the entire empire which her ill-fated love gave to him to control for her punishment. My murdered husband disturbs and threatens me even after my death, and with flames seeks my hated features. He approaches and menaces me; he imputes to me his son’s death and cenotaph; he demands the assassin’s punishment. Cease thy entreaties. Expiation will soon be made. Avenging Erinys prepare for the impious tyrant the lash, disgraceful flight, a worthy death, and punishments which surpass the thirst of Tantalus,[77] the dreadful labor of Sisyphus,[78] the bird of Tityos,[79] and the wheel that whirls the body of Ixion.[80] Although the haughty tyrant may fill the hall with marble statues and cover it with gold,[81] although an exhausted world may send riches, although the suppliant Parthians may bow before his blood-stained hands,[82] although empires may bestow their treasures, yet the day will come when abandoned, ruined, and deprived of everything, he will turn his wicked thoughts to his own crimes and surrender his life to his enemies.[83]

Alas, how have my vows resulted? Whither have fury and the fates led thee, my son, that the wrath of thy mother who perished by thy crime may yield to such great misfortunes? Would that the savage wild beasts had torn my vitals before I brought thee, a little child, into the world and nourished thee. Would that guiltless and without consciousness, my son, thou hadst perished. Would that with me thou hadst seen the peaceful home of the lower world, thy father, and thy ancestors, men of great renown. Now disgrace and unending grief await them from thee, wicked son, and from me who gave birth to such a monster. Why do I hesitate to hide my face in Tartarus, stepmother, wife and parent who have brought misfortune to all my kinsfolk and friends?

_OCTAVIA_: Cease thy weeping on such a joyful holiday[84] of the city lest thy great love for me excite the fierce wrath of the emperor and be a source of misfortune to thee. This is not the first wound my heart has known. I have felt deeper sorrows. Today will end my anguish by death. I shall not be forced to see the face of my cruel husband nor to enter the hated bridal chamber of a slave. Sister of Augustus I shall be but not his wife. Let only bitter punishment and fear of death be far from me. When thou dost remember the crimes of this wicked man, canst thou in thy misery hope for mercy? Long saved for these nuptials, an unfortunate victim at last thou wilt fall. But why dost thou with tear-stained cheeks look so often in terror at thy father’s palace? Hasten to the city walls. Leave the blood-stained hall of the chief.

_CHORUS_: See, a day, long foretold by any rumor, dawns. Claudia is forced to leave dread Nero’s bridal room which now victorious Poppaea occupies. Our loyalty and indignation are oppressed by foreboding fear. Where now is the power of the Roman people which often destroyed noble leaders, which once gave laws to an invincible fatherland and fasces to worthy citizens, which commanded war and peace, which conquered fierce tribes and imprisoned royal captives? Behold the images of Poppaea and Nero gleam every where before our sight.[85] May the angry people dash to the ground the exquisitely carved statues of the mistress, and may it drag her from the royal couch.[86] May it soon seek the palace of the emperor with hostile flames and fierce weapons.

_NURSE OF POPPAEA_: Where art thou going from thy husband’s bridal chamber, trembling daughter? Why in terror dost thou seek concealment? Why dost thou weep? Surely the day dawns for which we have sought by prayers and vows. Thou art married to Caesar whom thy beauty captivated. Although thou art despised by Seneca,[87] Venus, the mother of Love and greatest of all divinities, has charmed the emperor and given him over to thee.

Thou hast sat in lofty halls; thou hast rested upon royal couches. The astonished senate saw thee with thy head adorned with the red bridal veil, offering incense to the gods and sprinkling the sacred altars with fragrant wine.[88] Close by thy side, honored among the many happy omens of the citizens, showing joy in his haughty bearing, the chief advanced. Thus did Peleus receive his wife Thetis from the foaming waves. They say the heaven dwellers and every divinity of the sea united to celebrate their nuptials.[89] What has changed thee so suddenly? Tell me why thou dost grow pale and weep?

_POPPAEA_: O, nurse, confused by the sad and fearful sights of the past night, disturbed in mind, and deprived of feeling, I am borne along. When joyful day gave place to gloomy stars and heaven to night, clasped in the embrace of Nero, I could not sleep nor rest for a long time. For a sad throng seemed to celebrate my nuptials.[90] Roman matrons with flowing hair made doleful lamentations. Often amid the terrible blasts of trumpets, my husband’s cruel mother shook the blood-stained torch. When resistless fear compelled me to follow her, the sundered earth opened before me in a vast chasm.

Borne headlong, I see the marriage couches and I marvel at mine in which, wearied, I reclined. I see my former husband and son coming with a crowd of attendants. Crispinus[91] hastens to embrace and kiss me. Just as he entered my dwelling, trembling Nero buried the savage sword in his throat. Then overwhelming terror seized me. Horrible fear shakes my body and brings anguish to my heart. Anxiety has kept me speechless, but now thy faithful loyalty induces me to speak. Alas, why do these departed spirits come from the lower world to threaten me? Why have I witnessed the death of my husband?

_NURSE_: Whatever the restless activity of the mind considers, divine consciousness silently and swiftly recalls in sleep.[92] Dost thou wonder that, clasped in the embrace of a new husband, thou hast dreamed of thy former one, of the bridal room, and nuptial couch? But on such a happy day, does it disturb thee that matrons with flowing hair beat their breasts? They mourn the divorce of Octavia among the sacred Penates of her brother and in the home of her own ancestors. That torch which thou didst follow, borne aloft by the hand of Augusta, predicts to thee a royal and envied name. It foretells that the temples of the lower world will be thy eternal couches.

It does not predict war that thy chief buried the sword in his throat, but it meant that he sheathed his sword in peace. Collect thy thoughts, accept thy good fortune, I implore thee, and casting aside all fear return to thy bridal apartments.

_POPPAEA_: I have determined to seek the shrines and sacred altars, to propitiate the gods with sacrifices that terror and astonishment may return upon my enemies. Offer up vows for me and honor the god with devout prayers that the present state of affair may continue.

_CHORUS_: If gossiping rumor which now rules and again abandons the stars, should tell of the true stratagems of Jove and his pleasing loves--Jove who disguised as a swan had slept upon the breast of Leda, and who, as a fierce bull, had carried the stolen Europa through the waves--he will seek thy embraces, Poppaea, whom he prefers to Leda and to Danae to whom he once descended in a golden shower. Although Sparta may boast of Helen’s beauty and Paris, the shepherd of Phrygia, may tell of his reward, Poppaea is more beautiful than the Spartan Helen who caused such fierce wars and overthrew the kingdom of Priam. But who rushes in with astonished step, and what news does he bring with gasping breath?

_MESSENGER_: May the soldiers who guard the palace of the emperor defend the hall which the furious people threaten. Behold, the anxious cohorts bear aid to the city. The anger of the people rashly aroused does not yield to fear but gathers strength and force.

_CHORUS_: What madness and terror distract his mind?

_MESSENGER_: The crowds of people are strongly attached to Octavia, and frenzied by her great wrongs and persecutions they surge in turmoil everywhere.[93]

_CHORUS_: Tell what they have dared to do and by what counsel?

_MESSENGER_: The gods prepare to return to Claudia her brother’s penates and couch, the empire which was her dowry.

_CHORUS_: Whom does Poppaea now hold in allegiance?

_MESSENGER_: This rash favor inflames the mind of the people and drives them headlong into raging madness. All the costly marble and shining bronze images of Poppaea are broken and lie prostrate overthrown by their savage swords. They drag her dismembered statues along and after trampling them in the filthy mire, finally destroy them entirely. My fears conceal their plans and fierce deeds. They prepare to burn the palace of the emperor unless he surrenders the new wife to their wrath and submissively returns to Claudia her own penates. I shall not delay to carry out the commands of the prefect, that Nero may know the movements of his citizens.

_CHORUS_: Cupid carries invincible weapons with which thou dost vainly excite fierce wars. He will overwhelm thee with the fires of passion with which he has often destroyed thunderbolts and has drawn captive Jove from the sky. Thou wilt pay the penalty with thy life. Glowing with passion, he is not patient nor easily controlled. He commanded fierce Achilles to play the lyre; he shattered the Greeks and Menelaus; he overturned the kingdom of Priam; he destroyed royal cities. Now the mind fears what the relentless power of the pitiless god brings.

_NERO_: O, too lenient is the band of my soldiers and my anger after such a great wrong, since civilian blood has not quenched the torches burning for us and since Rome which produced such a monster does not reek with the blood of the people. The wicked crime of the common people deserves more severe punishment. But let that woman who has stirred up rebellion among the citizens and whom I have always suspected though she was wife and sister, too--let her die by my wrath and let her extinguish my anger in her own blood. Let the walls of the city perish in my flames. Let disgraceful poverty, hunger, and cruel sorrow destroy a hated nation. Great crowds corrupted by the prosperity of the times run riot; moderation does not please it, nor can it endure a peaceful reign, but it is borne hither by restless audacity, and is hurled thither by its own temerity. Misfortune must govern it; a heavy yoke must always crush it down lest it should dare to compare me with former rulers and to conspire against my wife. Crushed by fear of punishment, the people will learn to obey the will of its own leader. But I see a man coming whose singular loyalty and remarkable fidelity have placed him in command of my legions.

_PREFECT_: I announce that the uprising of the people is checked by the death of a few who long rashly resisted.

_NERO_: And is this all? Dost thou, a soldier, thus obey thy leader’s commands? Why dost thou cease thy endeavors? Is this the vengeance due me?

_PREFECT_: The leaders of the rebellion have fallen.

_NERO_: Why have not all perished who dared to seek my palace with torches, to lay down the law to the emperor, to remove such a wife from my couch, and to dishonor her in every way? Shall they escape richly deserved punishment?

_PREFECT_: Will thy indignation prepare punishment for thy own citizens?

_NERO_: It will prepare a punishment which will never be forgotten.

_PREFECT_: Let thy wrath, not our fear, restrain us.

_NERO_: The first age which has deserved my wrath shall expiate it.

_PREFECT_: Disclose what thy anger demands so that we may punish the culprit.

_NERO_: It demands my sister’s death and her severed head.

_PREFECT_: Chilling horror holds me spellbound.

_NERO_: Dost thou hesitate to obey?

_PREFECT_: Why dost thou doubt my loyalty?

_NERO_: Because thou art merciful to an enemy.

_PREFECT_: Should a woman receive this name?

_NERO_: She incites crime.

_PREFECT_: Who is it who accuses her?

_NERO_: The wrath of the people against me.

_PREFECT_: Who can rule the frenzied crowd?

_NERO_: She who influenced it.

_PREFECT_: I do not think anyone could.

_NERO_: A woman whose mind is naturally inclined to evil has inflamed their hearts with evil plans to injure me.

_PREFECT_: But she refused their aid.

_NERO_: But only that she might not be accused and that fear of punishment might not overcome her weak strength. Retribution will finally overtake the long condemned criminal. Hear my plans and carry out my commands.[94] Order Octavia to be placed on a ship and carried far away to a desert isle. There let her be killed that the fear in my heart may subside.

_CHORUS_: Indignation at the present instance forbids mention of many examples of fickle fortune. The woman upon whom the citizens wished to bestow the empire of the world, now they see led weeping to bitter punishment and death. Well does contented poverty conceal itself in humble dwellings. Often tempests shake those homes or fortune overwhelms them.

_OCTAVIA_: Where dost thou lead me? What exile does the tyrannical queen command for me, if, touched by my many misfortunes, she grants me life? But if she intends to end my sorrow by death, why does she begrudge me the pleasure of dying in my own native land? But now I cannot hope to escape. In my misery, I see my brother’s boat prepared for me.[95] Borne along in this vessel, once a wife, now only a sister, driven from my own palace, sorrowfully I shall drift away. Loyalty now has no divinity, nor are there gods above. Gloomy Erinys rules in the world! What nightingale can return soft plaintive notes to my weeping? I would like to escape my sorrows on the uplifted pinions of a bird and borne aloft and far away flee from the gloomy crowds of men and fierce carnage. Alone in a deserted forest and suspended on a slender bough, I would utter sad and mournful murmurs.