Part 7

_Agr._ I bid you go.

_Bur._ Cæsar shall hear your message.

_Sen._ Madam, we go.

_Agr._ Ay, go, good fellows; though ye have roused my passion, 2380 Your coming here hath cheered me wondrously. Nay, if ye have ever such another matter, Bring it again; be not abashed, but come; Or send your wives, and those two gentlemen, Whose names I know not. My lords, your humble servant.

[_Exeunt Burrus and Seneca and two Gentlemen._

Plautus! now is it possible I was wrong Not to have thought of Plautus? No, I laugh, ’Tis merely laughable. At forty-five To marry a pretender; and Plautus too! He would not have me. Fulvia, do you think 2390 That Plautus wants to marry me? Ha! ha! Is it my beauty, think you, or my virtue, Or my good fortune tempts the stoic? Oh, Domitia, oh, you are dull. I cannot fear This plot. We shall retire with more than honour. ’Twas strange, I think, that Pallas was not struck; His name escaped.

_Ful._ There is ample reason, madam. They say that in his house he holds such caution As not to speak before his slaves. His orders Are given by nod and sign, or if there’s need 2400 He writes: there’s none can say they have heard him speak.

_Agr._ May good come of it. ’Twould be hard indeed If they should exile Plautus for a fear Lest I should marry him. That were a fate Of irony. Why, give the man his choice Of marrying me and exile, would he not Fly to the pole? Poor Plautus! marry Plautus!

_Both._ Ha! ha! ha! he! he!

_Enter Nero. Agrippina is seated._

_NERO._

I find you merry, mother; the gods be praised That you deny the impeachment.

_Agr._ Really, Nero, Burrus’ memory is getting very short If he said I denied it. I did not.

_Ner._ You did not?

_Agr._ Nay, I’d not be at the pains.

_Ner._ Called you me hither?

_Agr._ Ay, you seem misled. I guess who ’tis. But let that pass. I hoped I might advise you privately; I knew You would not wish it known. Now, was I wrong?

_Ner._ Do you deny what is affirmed against you?

_Agr._ No, son: for if you wished to take my life, Why should I rob you of this grand pretence? 2420 Yet since you cannot, and the charge itself But moves my laughter, as you overheard, My only wish is you should now retire With dignity, and act as Cæsar ought.

_Ner._ (_aside_). This then is added to my shames.

_Agr._ What say you? Fulvia, await without. [_Exit Fulvia._] Who brought this to thee?

_Ner._ Paris.

_Agr._ The player! when?

_Ner._ Last night at supper.

_Agr._ Tell me, didst thou believe it? is it possible? Thou didst! Whence gottest thou thy wits I wonder; Certain they are not mine, no, nor thy father’s: I think they came of Claudius by adoption. 2431 Dost thou believe it still?

_Ner._ Whate’er I have done Was on advice.

_Agr._ A pious caution truly. Is this thy trust? Yet, yet I must forgive thee. See, I was angered. Nay, ’twas not thy judgment: I know who leads. But for these foolish women I sentence exile.

_Ner._ Sentence whom to exile?

_Agr._ The two devisers. Yet I think my sister Is harmless; but the other, that Silana—

_Ner._ Silana must be banished? 2440

_Agr._ Judge her, Nero, When thou hast heard. She and thy aunt Domitia Have been the two who, in my sad retirement, Have visited me most. Day after day They have made a show of kindness, finding joy In my disgrace, to view it; and have but left me To try this trick.

_Ner._ (_aside_). ’Tis plain I have been fooled.

_Agr._ For those that brought the tale, thou knowest that they Must taste the penalties they sought to inflict; That thou must know; but ’tis not all. The acquittal Of those accused will not be full without 2450 Some honour shown them. Best among the names Stand Fænius Rufus and Arruntius Stella, Who may have city posts: gentle Balbillus, Who has long deserved it, must be paid at last With a proconsulate. For myself, thou knowest I have taken all disgrace so patiently That I expect some boon, though yet I fear To ask; but when I have seen my slandered friends Honoured, I’ll write it thee.

_Ner._ I shall be quick To punish and to make amends. ’Tis just 2460 Towards Burrus, I should tell you from the first He took your part.

_Agr._ What could he else? Now, Nero, I have done: go home, and there resolve the matter With common sense; take Burrus into counsel As to what penalties and what promotions Shall be distributed. Before the people Remember that some feeling must be shown, And anger for effronteries attempted Against your majesty. Now go, the affair Has somewhat tired me.—Nay, touch me not; farewell. 2470

_Ner._ I see you are right; farewell.

_Agr._ I have more advice, Which I will write to thee. [_Exit Nero._ Excellent this—I have not had my way Thus for a long long while: ay, now is my time To strike. I’ll venture with a letter to him And claim my boon, that he dismiss Poppæa. There’s much to say on that which may seem aimed More at his good than mine; and if she have plunged In this false step, his vanity being touched 2479 May shake his liking. I will do it at once. [_Exit._

SCENE · 6

_A room in the Palace. Enter NERO and POPPÆA._

_NERO._

All for thy sake was planned, and now my pleasure In scheming thine is fled; for what is Baiæ, And what Minerva’s feast, blue skies and seas, Or games, or mirth, or wine, or the soft season, If thou deny me? Prithee say thou’lt come.

_POPPÆA._

Nay, I’ll not go.

_Ner._ Thou wilt not?

_Pop._ Nay, I cannot.

_Ner._ Cannot to Cæsar?

_Pop._ Prove me then thou’rt Cæsar, And not a ward.

_Ner._ A ward!

_Pop._ I said a ward. May I not see thee vexed? ’Tis what men whisper, Who dare not vex thee. Well, thy mother’s child, So much that at her beck thou forfeitest 2491 Empire and liberty.

_Ner._ Wouldst thou enrage me! What dost thou mean, Poppæa?

_Pop._ Deny not that: If ’tis not that hinders our marriage, then The case, I fear, blackens. I, who can smile At that, must weep another cause. I’ll think Thou’rt tired of me.

_Ner._ Now by what sign?

_Pop._ Maybe Thou hast seen a better beauty, and repented The promise given to me.

_Ner._ O treason, treason!

_Pop._ Thinkest my blood unworthy of alliance 2500 With thine—tho’, truth, my ancestors have triumphed.

_Ner._ Who dares that lie shall bleed.

_Pop._ Or that our bed Is not like to be blest.

_Ner._ The fruitful gods With all their oracles avert the omen.

_Pop._ Or that I urge my marriage for advancement; And thou, doubting my love, pressest denial To proof of faith.

_Ner._ Ay, that is it; thou’st hit it.

_Pop._ Or that I, once thy wife, would cross thy mother, Divulge her crimes, the hate the senate bear her, And last, though that’s well known, how she hates thee.

_Ner._ Speak of this once for all, then let the jest Be dead.

_Pop._ Nay, ’tis no jest, for Agrippina 2512 Will never love a daughter who loves thee. Restore me to my husband. I were happier In any place, howe’er remote from Rome, Where thy disgrace and wrongs can but be spoken, Not seen and felt as here. See why I go.

_Ner._ Poppæa, since I have never hid from thee My quarrel with my mother, thou mayst know It draws to end.

_Pop._ Oh, is’t the turn for kindness? 2520 Hath she been kind again? Why, ’tis deception. When her plot failed she cast it off, and now Exults: ’tis her fresh confidence seems kind.

_Ner._ ’Twas not her plot. Or else I’d rather think She put the snare to catch my foolish aunt, Who blindly took the bait.

_Pop._ Then she pretended Treason, that she might better hurt her sister: And yet can win thy trust!

_Ner._ Nay, heaven forbid; I trust her not.

_Pop._ She hates me.

_Ner._ Nay, her kinship Is jealous for Octavia; but...

_Pop._ Ah, true! 2530 To kill one’s husband, plot against one’s son, Should leave unsatisfied some tender feelings To spend upon a step-child. Why, she knows Those arts which manage you would not gull me, A woman not her child. Her whole design Is bent to thwart our marriage; and she will. I know it.

_Ner._ I swear that were this proved against her, Came it to a question ’twixt herself and thee, Which to take, which to lose, then not a moment Would I delay: the blow I have often sworn 2540 To strike should fall.

_Enter Messenger._

_MESSENGER._

A letter from the Augusta. [_Exit._

_Pop._ Now, as she loves me, this is mine.

_Ner._ Not so.

_Pop._ Then as thou lovest me.

_Ner._ Well.

_Pop._ (_reading_). Ho! ho! ho! ho! Now shines the sun at noon.

_Ner._ What is’t?

_Pop._ I read?

_Ner._ Read then.

_Pop._ (_reads_). _To her dearest son. Ha! ha! ha! When last we met thou wilt remember to have confessed some shame for wrong done to me. The wrong I forgive, but eagerly seize on thy sorrow to ask of thee, in regard for thine own happiness, this only favour. ’Tis my earnest prayer and advice that thou dismiss Poppæa._ 2551

_Ner._ Ha! writes she so?

_Pop._ Attend, the reasons follow. (_Reading._) _Beware of her: nor think that I grudge thee the happiness which thou now findest in her. Marriage with her can lead only to thy misery. I know her well._ Now hear my character.

_Ner._ Give me the letter.

_Pop._ _She is vain, deceitful, self-seeking, and, being by nature cold, hath the art to assume the mask of passion; and ’neath the show of virtue designedly conceals her wickedness and mischief. She loves thee no better than she loves Otho._ 2561

_Ner._ Give me the letter.

_Pop._ Nay, one sentence more. _Believe a woman sees further than a man, since to her eyes beauty is no veil._ She grants me beauty then. [_Gives letter to Nero._

_Ner._ (_reading_). ’Tis so, ’tis so. Ye gods! and thou wert right. Poppæa, this is the end. Come not to Baiæ. Wait my return.

_Pop._ What’s now to do, I pray?

_Ner._ Ask not: when I return I shall be free. We will be married.

_Pop._ Will you banish her? 2570

_Ner._ Ask nothing.

_Pop._ From her exile still her plottings Will reach to Rome.

_Ner._ Not so, for she shall go Whence nothing reaches Rome.

_Pop._ Oh, now I fear I have said too much; let not my love o’ercome thee. Maybe she meant not this.

_Ner._ Thou meddle not!

_Pop._ Oh, but at least no crimes, Nero, no crimes! Promise me that; rather I’ll fly to-night.

_Ner._ Poppæa, in earnest of the happy day When thou wilt be my wife, I bid thee now Depart. 2580

_Pop._ (_kissing him_). Husband, I go. [_Exit._

_Ner._ What ho! what ho!

_Enter a Servant._

Is Anicetus in the palace?

_SERVANT._

Ay, Cæsar.

_Ner._ Go, bid him hither straight. [_Exit Servant._ It shall be done. Ay, now it shall be done. Let me consider; I must be cool, lest I be foiled once more. Where lies my hindrance? not in her; she has twice Deceived me and escaped: now in my turn I steal her weapon, and can use it better, Having been plain before. Then Seneca... He shall not know, so are his scruples quiet. For mine, they are hushed already; but ’twere best Recount the terms which reason can oppose 2591 To too rebellious nature: first there’s my motive, Huge as the earth; liberty, happiness, Empire: that cannot slide, I fear not that. Then there’s the ground of justice; Claudius’ death, O’er which the executive too long hath slept In Cæsar’s piety: the sentence now O’ertakes the murderess with a double score, Since she by her conspiracy contrived Britannicus should die ... ay, for his death 2600 The heavy penalty hangs o’er some head; Now let it fall on hers,—so I am quit. All this condemns her, long-expected justice Cries, and occasion hurries on the hand. Ay, ay, I am clear. Poppæa being my stake, I cannot shrink nor swerve. What was’t she wrote? Why here is more. [_Reads._ _Be with me in this matter, But if thou should’st refuse, we are worse foes._ She dares the threat.

_Enter Anicetus._

_ANICETUS._

Cæsar hath summoned me.

_Ner._ Good Anicetus, tell me, is there none 2610 Greater than Cæsar?

_Anic._ Nay, Cæsar, there is none.

_Ner._ But were there one to whom it might be said Cæsar owed life and fortune—dost thou take me?

_Anic._ Cæsar would say the Augusta.

_Ner._ Nay, thou’rt dull: ’Twas thee I meant.

_Anic._ Me, Cæsar!

_Ner._ Dost remember Boasting to me that thou hadst sailor means To do a certain thing?

_Anic._ Ay.

_Ner._ Do it now. I’ll owe thee life and fortune. Canst thou be trusted?

_Anic._ My love for Cæsar follows hand in hand With his command in this.

_Ner._ Then do it, I say; 2620 No words, no explanation. Agrippina Will come to Baiæ: there have thou thy ship.

_Anic._ I will have one at Bauli, one at Baiæ: If she take either it shall serve the turn.

_Ner._ Go now contrive thy means; let nothing ’scape thee To me or any other: when ’tis done Hold thy head high.

_Anic._ Cæsar, I go to do it. [_Exit._

_Ner._ Now comes my part: ay, though it vex my soul To stoop; tho’ this be Cæsar’s greatest wrong, That he must patch his faultless power with guile, And having all command, miss of his will 2631 But for a subterfuge .... yet for this once I’ll do it—’tis little; but to write a letter, Feign to discard Poppæa, as mistrusting Her love and character; and from that vantage I surely win my mother to come forth And join the court at Baiæ—she will come.

ACT · V

SCENE · 1

_Baiæ. A room in Agrippina’s villa; the back gives out on the sea, where a galley is seen moored to quay of villa. AGRIPPINA and FULVIA._

_AGRIPPINA._

Is not this charming, Fulvia? what a day! I feel I have never breathed spring air before. And how the people cheered! it did me good. 2640 Here’s my old seat. The villa’s looking well. Could but Domitia see us now! How smoothly Her little plot went off! My first suspicions, Fulvia, I am sure were wrong: this invitation Was most well meant; and see the tenderness Has even called up my tears. You cannot know What fond associations make this house A home indeed. I wish I had not refused To take the yacht at Bauli: ’twas an error, Over-precaution.

_FULVIA._

Madam, I but told you 2650 The very words Seleucus.... [_A noise without._

_Agr._ What is that noise?

_Ful._ ’Tis Cæsar coming with a company.

_Agr._ Oh, I will see. (_Looking forth._) And there is Seneca And Burrus. There’s much meaning in this visit. How grand he looks with all his lords about him! There never was a Cæsar like him: others Have been but Cæsars; he’s an emperor, And wears the full magnificence of state In beardless boyhood.—Fulvia, I do love splendour. To be so young and rule the world! 2660

_Enter Nero, Seneca, and Burrus._

Now, welcome, Welcome, my son!

_NERO._

Welcome to Baiæ, mother. We are come the first day of the feast to pay you The season’s compliments.

_Agr._ A prompt return. What pleasure ’tis, Nero, I cannot say. Welcome, my lords.

_SENECA._

My loving service, lady.

_Ner._ Crossed you the bay from Bauli?

_Agr._ Nay, you’ll laugh; ’Twas foolish; but I wished the folk to see My joy and reconcilement, and in the thought To please so many friends I kept my litter.

_Ner._ You’ll all sup with us? 2670

_Agr._ I look for nothing better.

_Ner._ Whom will you bring?

_Agr._ I have no one with me here But Polla Acerronia.

_Ner._ And where is she?

_Agr._ She took the yacht, and so arrived before us, But has not left it: like the child she is, The new toy quite distracts her: she is there.

_Ner._ Row you this afternoon upon the bay?

_Agr._ I had thought of it; and now, if you would come That were a double pleasure.

_Ner._ I am sorry, I must go Order to-morrow’s games.

_Agr._ Your lords mayhap Will join me. I can take them to your villa. 2680

_Sen._ I’ll gladly come: the dust the crowd treads up Has filled my throat and set me coughing shrewdly.

_Ner._ Nay, I shall want you both.

_Agr._ Some other time I hope, my lords.

_BURRUS._

I thank your majesty.

_Ner._ Farewell till supper.

_Agr._ Why! so short a visit!

_Ner._ We shall meet soon.

_Agr._ Well, I will sail alone With Polla; ’tis her wish. Escort me, Nero?

_Ner._ Ay.

_Agr._ For the sake of that I’ll go at once. I love the sea.

[_Exeunt Nero with Agr. and Fulv. down the quay, where they are still seen._

_Sen._ Burrus, what say you now! Has not the thing I looked for come to pass? 2690

_Bur._ There’s as you say a most astounding change; Can you explain it?

_Sen._ Well, you see it, Burrus.

_Bur._ How came it all about?

_Sen._ See now how tenderly They both embrace.

_Bur._ Who would have thought it?

_Sen._ I; I should have thought it: and I point to this To justify my words those many times Our speech has come to difference.

_Re-enter Nero. Fulvia goes into house._

_Ner._ Now, lords, I go.

_Bur. and Sen._ We follow, Cæsar.

_Ner._ I have changed my mind; I want you not. [_Going._

_Bur._ Will Cæsar name the hour When we shall wait on him? 2700

_Ner._ Why, come at once. I cannot tell what hour I may not want you. Attend me at my villa. [_Exit._

_Bur._ Of a sudden He is changed again.

_Sen._ You see how easily He is overcome with kindness. Would you know The noble sacrifice he has made?

_Bur._ What’s that?

_Sen._ Why, he has renounced Poppæa.

_Bur._ Nay!

_Sen._ Ay.

_Bur._ Who told you?

_Sen._ I saw the letter.

_Bur._ How! Poppæa shows it?

_Sen._ ’Twas writ his mother.

_Bur._ Then he has deceived her.

_Sen._ Can you think that?

_Bur._ The letter makes all plain. Why did he write it?

_Sen._ Why?

_Bur._ Well, well.

_Sen._ Oh, Burrus, 2710 I have every cause for hope; and here to-day The meeting in this house more than assures me He must redeem the promise of his youth. ’Twas in this very room, ten years ago, I first saw Nero—Ay, ’tis now ten years— I was arrived from Corsica at Rome, And there found summons to attend the Augusta At Baiæ: hither in all haste I came. The yearnings and the miseries of exile Would make a mean deliverer seem a god, 2720 And my return drave me half mad with joy. I entered: in that chair sat Agrippina, My kind deliverer, my friend, the empress. Time had not marred her beauty, and as she spake Impatience flushed her cheek—she shared my joy. I knelt in tears there, nor ashamed of tears, Though at her side I was aware was standing A boy of some twelve years; whom, when I rose, She then presented as her son, and bade me Take him for pupil. As I saw him then 2730 In fullest grace of boyhood, apt in all Boys should be manly in, and gifted further Than boys are wont with insight, and the touch Of human sympathy and learned taste, Proficient in some arts and dull in none, But coy withal and generous, ’twas no wonder If ere that evening passed I had admitted The schemes his mother had laid, which in short time Were brought to pass.

_Bur._ ’Twas a black day.

_Sen._ And yet, Burrus, if after you had seen how kindly 2740 He took instruction, how he came to love me, You would not wonder—nay, I can remember Claudius himself was shamed if his Britannicus, Being younger but by some two years, were by Where Nero was: and had I been the father I might have wished, I think, to have done as he, And called the best my son.

_Bur._ He killed Britannicus.

_Sen._ Burrus, if as it seems you quite distrust him, Why hold you still the office which establishes His power?

_Bur._ Because it is an office, Seneca, 2750 The top of my profession: yet, by the gods, Find you a better man, and I’ll be gone. But, as a soldier, I’ll not see the guards Commanded by some brute like Tigellinus.

_Sen._ Nay, be not angry.

_Bur._ Would not you be angry Thus to be questioned?

_Sen._ Nay, indeed, by habit I question oft myself.