BOOK XXIII.

NERO AND SIMON.

Simon, sent by Drusilla to the emperor, finds it impossible to reach the imperial presence without help from Poppæa, who grants him her favor only on condition that he will serve her wish at need. The crafty sorcerer buys his way with the necessary promises. Nero flouts Simon with disdainful irony and sarcasm, which excites the sorcerer's resentment. This feeling he dissembles, while he counsels the unfaithful imperial husband how to rid himself of his young empress Octavia--the sorcerer being all the time in doubt whether it is with Drusilla or with Poppæa that the emperor, who speaks darkly, would supplant her.

Nero at length dismisses Simon, bidding him tell his mistress the emperor's desire to pay her a secret visit. This message the sorcerer gratifies his own spleen by conveying to Drusilla in terms the most offensive to her pride. She bursts out in violent anger and spurning; but Simon shows his mistress how she may salve in a measure the hurt to her dignity, and at the same time serve her hatred of Paul, by making it a condition of her complaisance that the emperor shall first put the apostle and his companions to death. The sorcerer returns with her reply to Nero, who again, and even more deeply than before, stirs the Jew's heart to deadly hatred. Simon plots a wild scheme to have his revenge. Meantime with change in certain officers of the government the aspect of affairs grows threatening for Paul and his fellow-Christians. Onesimus and Syrus are arrested and hurried away to suffer on the rack.

NERO AND SIMON.

Drusilla, eager in uncertain hope To meet the pleasure of the emperor, Promptly sent Simon to him as he said. She charged her minion to bend all his craft To win his mistress way that she in proof Upon that youngster emperor of the world Might, without let from other present, try If for once only what of power was left Her, after such misfortunes suffered late, To steal possession of the hearts of men. "Consider, Simon, what might not I do For thee, once seated in that place of power?" She with such words and with a subtle smile Of deep insinuation cheered him forth.

But Simon, in an outer anteroom Of the imperial palace with its guards-- Many removes from where the emperor was-- Long hung in waiting day by day in vain. At length Poppæa, not the emperor, Sent gracious word that she would see that Jew. "Thou hadst perhaps forgotten who it was," The favorite, drunken-fond of power nor less Of demonstration too of power, began, To dash the sorcerer in his confidence-- "Say, hadst thou not forgotten who it was Gave thee for thy Drusilla her desired Access to the imperial presence late?" Simon saw what she wanted, and was quick To humor to the full her proud caprice. He readily commanded to his face A trouble of confusion and chagrin, And stammered something inarticulate. The merciless Poppæa pressed her point: "Was it to me, or to somebody else, I heard thee offer service of thine art? Methinks thou spokest, or perhaps I dreamed, Of certain potencies thou couldst exert On my behalf--or some one's--if thou wouldst, To make at need a mind amenable To reason that might otherwise resist?"

Simon her humor flattered to its height, And artfully grew more and more confused Before her, till he judged her satisfied That his humiliation was complete. Then, with abject profession of remorse And shame that he so far forgot her due As to seek audience with the emperor In any way other than through herself, He humbly asked her what her wish might be; In short, renewed the proffer of himself To be her faithful servant all in all.

"But art thou not in prior duty bound To that Drusilla fair of thine?" she asked. "Yea, doubtless," the adroit dissembler said-- A protestation of deep loyalty To his old mistress, not to be seduced, Commingling strangely in his look and tone With offer to be serviceable now. "Supposing beautiful Drusilla's aims And mine should clash?" Poppæa said. But he: "That were calamity indeed--for her; The far more beautiful must needs prevail. She has perhaps her too aspiring hopes; Her hopes, I own, I have no heart to dash. Let her nurse them; but be it mine meanwhile To watch and strive they do not pierce the breast That suckles them in vain." "What meanest thou?" Poppæa asked. "Why, this," the sorcerer said, "Lady Drusilla's interests and her aims May not agree. They do not, if her aims And thine, O empress, clash. Her interests, True interests, I mean, she best consults In being to her sovereign loyal liege. I serve the subject, when I serve the queen."

"'Empress,' thou namest me," Poppæa said. "Thou knowest I am not empress." "Yea, I know," Said Simon, "empress not in name--as yet." "Another," with deep implication said Poppæa, "that imposing title bears." "Were it not so," with apt intelligence, Made instant answer Simon, "thou wouldst not Need modestly disclaim the title--thou Who worthily possessest now the power." "Not all the power," Poppæa sagely said; "Some real part of the power is in the name. Help me to win the name, and fix thy price." "My price would be the pleasure I should have To see thee sitting, where thy right ere now Had placed thee, on the half throne of the world"-- So Simon with devout obeisance said. Then added: "If the emperor should suspect-- But, pardon, thou hast asked me nothing yet." "I ask thee now, speak freely out to me All that is in thy mind," Poppæa said. "If then, I say, the emperor should suspect-- Of course with ground for the suspicion (that Well understood, no innocent to be wronged)"-- And Simon grinned intolerably a wry Involuntary grin of import such, So horribly conveyed, that almost she, Poppæa, shuddered in recoil from him-- "Suspect, with reason shown, a full supply, That the young partner of his bed and throne, Octavia, is less worthy of his faith Than were to--"

"Aye, I see, I see," broke Poppæa, her instinctive first recoil Quite overmastered; it was of the flesh, Mere backward creep of muscle and of nerve, Repugnance of the inner spirit none. "But to supply the reason--"

"Shall be mine," Said Simon, finishing her arrested speech. He undertook at venture in the dark; But to gain time, and to secure access, His present errand, to the emperor, He added, with demure and downcast look: "The ground beneath us now is treacherous; I could with greater freedom utter all That might be needful in such case as this, To other ear than thine, O empress fair, Or any woman's. Let me, pray thee, see The emperor. Thou shalt be well satisfied, I pledge me, with the issue when it comes."

So Simon won him clear for then, and went-- His way made easy by Poppæa's part; Yet not as with her privity, much less As with her favor openly displayed-- To his wished waiting on the emperor.

"Thou art a go-between, I understand," Abruptly and ambiguously said The emperor to Simon. Simon winced A little, he so little wont to wince. What did it mean? Had Nero overheard Through some eavesdropper what had just now passed Between him and Poppæa? Was he vexed? Himself at least was inly vexed to hear The opprobrious name of 'go-between' applied, Where he had hoped for honor as a mage And wielder of weird supernatural power. He wavered, and found nothing to reply.

"Thou art modest," Nero said, with irony; "But I have heard thy fame, thou needst not blush, Pallas has told me how as go-between Thou servedst his brother Felix in the East, Finding for him a really royal spouse. I hope thy go-between officiousness Ended with bringing the devoted pair Together? Nothing after had to do With the late parting of the same by death?"

Simon was stumbled at such raillery, Uneasily uncertain what it meant. He writhed and wriggled on his feet; but deemed The emperor best were pleased to have his will Of banter, unreplied to--banter felt As far too formidable for right zest, Proceeding from a prince, and such a prince!

"Wilt ply again thy skill of go-between, And faithfully, for me?" the emperor said. A question fairly asked, which must be met: Could it concern--Poppæa? In such case, The office of the 'go-between'--as pleased This jocular young ruler of mankind To name him ignominiously--might take A dignity almost imperial on; Simon would frame reply comportably: "If the august will of his majesty, The emperor of the world, should condescend To make one most unworthy of the grace In any wise elect ambassador To serve the imperial pleasure at what court Soever of such beauty as were fit To be assumed for partner of his throne-- Why, Simon could but pledge his loyalty, And trust his wonted fortune might not fail."

"Thou takest thy pander's part full seriously," The emperor, bantering still, but curious, said: "Perhaps our grave ambassador of love Might, from his pregnant wit, even nominate The court of beauty where befitting were The majesty of empire should pay suit. The Roman state impersonate in me Gives ear."

Played with in such ambiguous wise Simon was much perplexed to choose his way. He flung himself on rumor, and replied: "The Roman state, embodied in thyself Most worthily, most worthily has made Its choice already; mine to serve that choice." "Thou art an oracle; who knows so much, Should needs know more," the emperor teasing said. "Advise me, thou who knowest so easily What my choice is, how I may win my choice. Consider that the emperor of the world Is after all the veriest slave in Rome; The rascal people lord it over him. I have no trouble with the senators, They follow like whipped spaniels at my heels-- The reverend 'conscript fathers,' to be sure! But the great Roman people is a spell I am afraid of; I must please the mob, Who will not let me marry as I would; The many-headed monster mob of Rome." The emperor gave his peevish humor vent, Contemptuously regardless of who heard.

But Simon was alert and caught his cue. "The tyrant mob may easily be fooled," He said with politic suggestion deep; "Fooled rightly, they will clamor, not against, But for, the emperor's wish." "Open thy thought, Said Nero; "be an oracle indeed-- For wisdom; for equivocation, not." "What the imperial wish is," Simon said, "It were impiety in me to guess. But grant it were a prince's natural wish To change a barren or a faithless spouse For one more suited to his princely mind, Ways might be found to make his realm agree." "Suppose the case, then; how wouldst thou proceed?" So, as if only idly, Nero asked. "Let me suppose a case of faithlessness," Simon, with study of the emperor's face, Adventured; "that is the more simple sort, More likely, or at least of easier proof. The offended prince reluctantly succumbs To testimony--whereof the supply Will manifestly equal the demand"-- This with both look and tone sententious said-- "He makes his loving people confidant Of his misfortune--which is also theirs-- And with one voice they generously cry, 'Put her away, and wed a worthy mate.'" The emperor listening sank into a muse, Which Simon as of happy omen took.

Nero was deeper than the sorcerer guessed; His muse had really, as that worthy framed His speech to have it, of Octavia been And of Poppæa in Octavia's room; But for his present prurient whim the young Imperial profligate was fain to make Misdeem the Jewish pander otherwise. As if Drusilla, not Poppæa, had, Unnamed between them, been that worthier one Of whom the sorcerer darkly all the time Had hinted, and whom he himself the while Had understood him tacitly to mean, Nero now said, rousing from reverie-- Ejaculation like soliloquy: "Worthy to be the consort of a king! Perhaps well widowed--for some nobler fate Hers by the right of beauty and of wit-- Drusilla, thy good mistress, that born queen! Tell her this from the emperor, and ask When she will let the emperor himself Pay her his personal homage at her court; Some night it needs must be, and in disguise-- To fool the prying people as thou saidst. Prove thou thy prowess as ambassador, And bring me speedy word of thy success." The emperor let the sorcerer retire.

A little pleased, but disappointed more, Simon his message to his mistress brought. He wreaked his disappointment upon her, By rendering Nero's proffer of himself In terms the most offensive to her pride: "Know, O my lady--empress, by just right Of high ambition and of mettle high-- Lucius Domitius Nero Cæsar, proud Young wearer of the crown that Julius wore-- Or would not wear, but three times put it by-- Successor to the great Augustus, who Earth's jarring fragments welded to a whole, And settled order government and peace-- Conscious of his own merit, condescends To ease his aching shoulders of the weight Of empire by indulging now and then In certain little pranks of pleasantry, More lively, as might seem, than dignified. He dons him his disguise and sallying forth Goes roystering through the streets incognito, Attended by a well-becoming rout Of boon companions in hilarity-- Much to the scandal of good citizens, Specially such as happen to be out; These often get quite tumbled up and down In the wild frolic of imperial sport. They make the night--these rouses are by night-- Merry with jocund laughter, and with song That would be ribald save that it is sung By a divine Augustus in his cups. I am permitted, as ambassador From this imperial personage, to bear Thee courteous salutations, and to say The emperor deems thee worthy to be queen, Thinks thou perhaps wast widowed in good time To make thee to a nobler fortune free; Begs thou wilt name the night when he may come In person and pay imperial court to thee."

"This, Simon, is impudence insufferable, Equal affront to Nero and to me," Drusilla in a flame of fury said. "Thou hast overstepped thy limit jesting so. Repair thy fault forthwith, or suffer for it! Tell me in terms, and without flourishes, What word, if any, the emperor charged thee with." Maliciously unmoved, the sorcerer said: "With some loss doubtless--most regrettable, Granted; yet scarce avoidable, confess-- From the august imperial dignity Of the first utterance, I have told thee true The message Cæsar bade me bear to thee." Drusilla, with rekindled anger, cried: "Thou hast cruelly misrepresented me, To bring upon me such indignity. In what mistaken terms of complaisance, Tell me--mistaken, or even treacherous-- Didst thou present me to his majesty?" Simon, exasperating purposely By his cool air of imperturbable, Said: "Madam, it seemed wisest policy-- Best suited to avoid that compromise I knew to be so justly hateful to thee Of dignity and modesty and shame-- So I observed a careful reticence, But drew the emperor on from point to point To be first--as he was--in mentioning thee."

Drusilla's fury now redoubled rose; With blazing eyes she rather hissed than said: "He takes Drusilla to be such as that! Will seek me under cover of the dark! Hark thee! _I_ to be visited by stealth, The happy finish of a night's carouse! Give him my compliments and tell him, Nay! Bid him by daylight come, in proper state, And bringing with him his empire cast it down A proffered bauble at Drusilla's feet-- I will consider of the matter then. Up, go, speed, tell him what I thus have said. I am in haste to wash this stain away, And fling his insult back into his face. He is mighty, he--but I am haughty, I; I am as haughty as he mighty is: I burn in hell until he knows this from me. Thou hangest--wilt not go?--art false to me? Aye, thou art false, or thou hadst out of hand Told him thou knewest Drusilla otherwise Than to dare take her such a word as that!"

"The emperor should see my lady now," Said Simon with provoking flattery, Provoking, yet it mollified her mind, And shaped her to receive what he would say-- "Yea, but the emperor should behold thee thus-- If he would have his beauty spiced with spite, And splendid with a little awfulness. I have never seen thee so the queen before! But, madam, in good sooth and soberness, Behooves that we consider well our way. The emperor is a dangerous man--or god, Thou knowest they deify this personage; It were not wise to tempt him overmuch. Yet I agree thy woman instinct well Advises thee to dictate terms to him. Let these be high--agreed; but not too high: Not quite impossible, observe; enough, No more, to give thee value in his eyes.

"I think of one end that thou mightst subserve By a condition prior to consent-- An end long meditated, and most dear, Not to thee only, but no less to him, Thy well-belovéd consort late. Why not Say to the emperor: 'Give thou me a pledge Beforehand of thy worthy sentiments Toward thy poor vassal, in this little thing: Put Paul to death and all the curséd crew That hold with him, exempting not a soul-- This do thou first, O emperor august, A very little thing, and see if then Thy will find let in my will; so be I Am honored as befits my quality'-- A guardian clause elastic of import, Which thou mayst after construe as thou wilt? Such terms I might obey to bear to him, And they could only heighten his regard Of thee, and more thy hold on him assure."

"There was Poppæa sitting by his side That day!" Drusilla bitterly exclaimed. "And knowest thou by what arts her place she won?" Pressed Simon; "she was not afraid to impose Conditions on her lover; she told him, 'Thou must do thus, and thus,' and he admired Her for her spirit, and succumbed; do thou Likewise, and prove thy right to reign--by reigning. It is not quite so proud to reign, I grant Thee, as to spurn; but bend thy pride so much: Spurning is fine, but reigning profits more." "Thou hast well advised, my Simon," with strong qualms Subdued of pride, and loathing sprung from pride, Drusilla made reply; and Simon left The humbled woman to her wretchedness.

For she no longer now deceived herself, Or was by Simon deceived, to keep her hope Of splendid triumph by the emperor's side. Salt tears and bitter, after he had gone, She stained the queenly beauty of her face Withal and quenched the brilliance of her eyes. Her chalice was of disappointment full; She had sinned, and she was still to sin, in vain: She knew it, but she did not change her choice. Her only comfort in her hour of shame Was that at least a drop of sweet revenge And malice gratified might mingle yet-- A dash of soothing--in the draught she drank; She yet might see her heart's desire on Paul.

What if thou dost, Drusilla! Thou wilt see The hated dying, not as one who dies, Rather as one who, borne aloft and crowned, Rides celebrating triumph over death! The while thou seest exalted to the place Thou fain hadst purchased for thyself with crime Poppæa, empress by the emperor throned, Spouse in the room of young Octavia slain. Go, wretched woman, with thy little son Beside thee, down the valley of the years-- Years few and evil, full of many woes-- Until thou shalt with him be overwhelmed In that volcano ruin, thy fit doom! With first obeisance to Poppæa paid (And blithe report to her of progress good Toward what she wished--wanting, he cheerly thought, But one more audience to attain the goal) Simon betook him to the emperor, Who greeted him with: "Well, what, pander? Speak! No parley, no ambages; great affairs Are now engaging me. Is all arranged? What is the night appointed? O, I see Broad written over all thy countenance, Palter, pretext, delay, to tantalize Forsooth and tease a lover's eagerness. But I am in no mood to be played with; Thou balkest me at thy peril; speak, man, speak! What message does the fair Drusilla send?"

Simon came hating with a perilous hate, Hate perilous to himself, the emperor For all the scorning poured before on him; Now, at such words of scorn more bitter yet, His fierce resentment almost overbore His fear; it threatened to burst out in flame. But he was prudent and afraid enough To smother it--as yet; the deeper burned It in his bosom, forced to smoulder there. His hatred and his fear together made His wit clear, swift, and ready to command. He dared not fence, and so he answered fair-- At some cost to his mistress, more than he Foreshadowed in obtaining her consent: "My lady agrees, but does not fix the time." "Agrees, of course agrees," grossly replied Nero; "but when, thou paltering rascal, when?-- That is the point thou knowest, and she knows." "Lady Drusilla begs the emperor Will," wily Simon said, "do her the grace To choose his own time; his choice will be hers." "Beyond just expectation complaisant!" With a placated grin, the emperor said. Simon made thrifty haste not to let slip His favorable chance precarious; He spoke: "Aye, when thy gracious majesty Shalt have appointed death deserved for Paul And for the pestilent crew his company, And shalt have signified to her thy leave To see the sentence visited on them-- The very night which follows that bright day Of vengeance on the emperor's enemies Shall brighter than that day to her be made If she may welcome then as visitant Him who shall so have pledged her his regard."

"Ah, so she makes conditions after all," Clouding his brow, but lightly, Nero said. "A woman is a woman," Simon replied, "And queen Drusilla is high-spirited Doubtless beyond the common; humor her, I pray thee, in this trifle; thou wilt note How that, in seeming so to save her pride Somewhat, her dignity, her modesty, She really seeks to serve a public end Of justice and of good imperial fame." "Thou makest her worthy of a throne indeed," The emperor with indulgent sarcasm said, "With her wise forecast and expansive views." "Faith toward the person of the emperor-- Faith, and perhaps some nearer sentiment-- Inspires her to be large in statesmanship," Said Simon--eased a moment in his mind To be diplomatist in honeyed lies.

"Tell her I will consult my oracle," Nero maliciously replied; "and say My oracle is a lady, hence will know Better than I should dare pretend I can What would be fit in such peculiar case. As fountain prime of justice to my realm, I own I have some scruples in this thing-- Whether it were ideal right and good To barter sentences of life and death Simply that I may please a lady fair, And be a favored suitor at her court.

"But I perhaps will toss a die and see What chance will say; chance is a prudent god, And, in his seeming-random way, is right As oft as wisdom with his reasons weighed: Besides I can keep on throwing, till the turn Pleases my fancy of the moment. Go, Solemn ambassador from court to court, Report what I have said, but give a wink At end to mean thou guessest all is well."

Simon, retiring, soon Poppæa sought, And, with dark hint and indirection, told How he had dropped into the emperor's ear A seed of such suggestion as, he thought, Would quickly spring and blossom and bear fruit To the advantage of her dearest wish: It would but need attaint Octavia's faith As consort of the emperor, and so, By open operation of the law, Set her aside and leave him lorn of wife. The acclamation of the people then Would join the emperor's own desire to fill Octavia's vacant room with--whom but one? But would Poppæa help him in one thing? He greatly wished to give the emperor proof Of what he could accomplish in his art Of conjuring with weird supernatural powers; He thought his weight as intermediary In her behalf would be increased thereby. Poppæa, promising to stir up the mind Of Nero to a proper appetite For Simon's thaumaturgy, let him go.

While such fruits in the dark were growing ripe, Things in the open looked the self-same way. Stephen, who daily scouted in the world Without of Rome, its rumor, its event, Brought thence one day to Paul ill-boding word: "Burrus is dead, that just man; how he died, Whether of sickness, poison, suicide, No man can say--or rather all men say, Some, one thing, some, another; doubtful all. But two men take his place in prefecture, One, Tigellinus--baser none than he: I doubt thou wilt come to feel his heavy hand. Then that vile woman Poppæa, so they say, Has become Jewish proselyte, forsooth. Wherefore? No doubt, colluding with Drusilla-- The wicked Simon with his sorcery, And with his office low of go-between, Egging them on--to be Jews good enough, The three together, to act in Shimei's place As thine accusers to the emperor. O, my heart sinks in doubt and fear for thee!" "It need not, Stephen; my heart is buoyant," Paul Said to his nephew in calm and firm reply. "Nothing can fall out from the order fair Of God's will for His chosen and well-beloved; All things together work for good to them." "All things?" said Stephen; "Lord, increase my faith!" For he hung staggered at the paradox. "O, yea, all things, exception none," said Paul.

But hardly had been uttered those strong words, When, in the door, rudely burst open, stood Two arméd minions of the prefecture. "Wanted, for torture on the witness-rack"-- One of these spoke in strident tones and hard-- "Onesimus, a Phrygian runaway, Slave of the late lord Felix, harbored here. Point out the rogue; we are under strait command, And Tigellinus will brook no delay. Ah, there he is--he has betrayed himself-- White as a corpse; were he as innocent! Come, rascal, and cheer thee up, thou art to have Thy Syrus for a fellow on the rack." With rally such, in coarsest irony, They hurried off Onesimus to doom-- Scarce time to Paul for breathing in his ear To bid him in the strength of Christ be strong.

"O, uncle, 'all things' to Onesimus, Him also, in a fearful stead like this?" Said Stephen, in vicarious agony. "Would I could take his stead for him!" said Paul. "I cannot, but Christ can, and will--nay, did, Then when He suffered all on Calvary. Pray for Onesimus that he his trust Withdraw not from the Lord who thus proves him-- And pray for Syrus that his faith fail not. Now, O Lord Jesus, in Gethsemane And on the bitter cross of Calvary Thyself so anguished once in that frail flesh Thou worest for our sake--that Thou mightst suffer!-- Help, help, thy servants in their sudden hour."

The soldier that was manacled to Paul Wondered, but reverenced, when these things he heard.