ACT I
_Octavia:_ Now doth the flushing dawn from heaven drive The wandering stars; the sun mounts into sight With radiant beams, and brings the world once more The light of day. Up, then, my heavy soul, With grievous cares o'erburdened, and resume 5 Thy woe; out-wail the sea-bred Halcyons, And those sad birds of old Pandion's house; For this thy lot is heavier far than theirs. O mother, constant source of tears to me, 10 Hear now thy woeful daughter's sad complaints, If aught of sense remains among the shades. Oh, that the grizzly Clotho long ago, With her own hand had clipt my thread of life! 15 Through blinding tears I saw thy bleeding wounds, Thy features sprinkled with defiling blood. Oh, light of day, abhorrent to my eyes! From that dread hour I hate the day's pure light 20 More than the night's dark gloom; for daily now Must I endure a cruel stepdame's rule, Must daily bear her hateful looks and words. She, she the baleful fury fiend it was Who at my marriage rites bore torches lit 25 With hellish fires; 'twas she who wrought thy death, O wretched father, whom but yesterday The whole world owned as lord on land and sea; To whom the Britain bowed, though ne'er before Had he a Roman master known or owned. 30 Alas, my father, by thy wife's fell plots Thou liest low, and I and all thy house Like captives groan beneath the tyrant's sway.
[_Exit to her chamber._]
_Nurse_ [_entering_]: Who stands in wonder, smitten by the gloss 35 And splendor of a princely court, amazed At sight of easy-won prosperity, Let him behold how, at the stroke of fate, The house of Claudius is overthrown, To whose control the world was subjugate, 40 Whose rule an ocean, long to sway unknown, Obeyed, and bore our ships with subject will. Lo, he, who first the savage Britains curbed, And filled an unknown ocean with his fleet, And passed in safety 'mid barbaric tribes-- By his own wife's impiety was slain. 45 And she is destined by her son to fall, Whose hapless brother lies already slain By poison's hand, whose sister-wife alone Is left to mourn. Nor may she hide her grief, By bitter wrath impelled to speak. She shuns Her cruel lord's society, and, fired 50 With equal hate, with mutual[55] loathing burns. Our pious faithfulness in vain consoles Her grieving heart; her cruel woes reject Our aid; the noble passion of her soul Will not be ruled, but grows on ills renewed. Alas, my fears forebode some desperate deed, 55 Which may the gods forbid!
_Octavia_ [_heard speaking from within her chamber_]: O fate of mine, that can no equal know! Thy woes, Electra, were no match for these; For thou couldst soothe with tears the grief thou hadst 60 For thy dear father's fall; thou couldst avenge The murder by thy brother's ready hand, Who by thy piety was saved from death, And whom thy faith concealed. But me base fear Forbids to weep my parents reft away 65 By cruel fate; forbids to weep the death Of him, my brother, who my sole hope was, My fleeting comfort of so many woes. And now, surviving but to suffer still, I live, the shadow of a noble name. 70
_Nurse:_ Behold, the voice of my sad foster-child Falls on my list'ning ears. Slow steps of age, Why haste ye not within her chamber there?
[_Starts to enter the chamber, but is met by_ Octavia _coming forth_.]
_Octavia:_ Within thy bosom let me weep, dear nurse, Thou ever trusty witness of my grief. 75
_Nurse:_ What day shall free thee from thy woes, poor child?
_Octavia:_ The day that sends me to the Stygian shades.
_Nurse:_ May heaven keep such dark omens far away! 80
_Octavia:_ 'Tis not thy prayers, but fate that shapes my life.
_Nurse:_ But God will bring thy life to better days. Do thou but be appeased, and win thy lord With mild obedience. 85
_Octavia:_ I'll sooner tame The savage lion's heart, the tiger's rage, Than curb that brutal tyrant's cruel soul. He hates all sons of noble blood, and gods And men he sets at naught; nor can he bear 90 That high estate to which along the paths Of shameful crime his impious mother led; For though it shames him now, ungrateful one, To hold the scepter which his mother gave; And though by death he has requited her: 95 Still will the glory of the empire won Belong to her for centuries to come.
_Nurse:_ Restrain these words that voice thy raging heart, And check thy tongue's too rash and thoughtless speech.
_Octavia:_ Though I should bear what may be borne, my woes, 100 Save by a cruel death, could not be ended. For, since my mother was by murder slain, And my father taken off by crime most foul, Robbed of my brother, overwhelmed with woe, Oppressed with sadness, by my husband scorned, Degraded to the level of my slave, 105 I find this life no more endurable. My heart doth tremble, not with fear of death, But slander base, employed to work my death. Far from my name and fate be that foul blot. For death itself--Oh, 'twould be sweet to die; For 'tis a punishment far worse than death, To live in contact with the man I loathe, To see the tyrant's face all passion puffed, 110 And fierce with rage, to kiss my deadliest foe. That I should fear his nod, obey his will, My grief, resentful, will not suffer me, Since by his hand my brother was destroyed, Whose kingdom he usurps, and boasts himself The author of that shameful deed. How oft 115 Before my eyes does that sad image come, My brother's ghost, when I have gone to rest, And sleep has closed my eyelids faint with tears! Now in his weakling hand he brandishes The smoking torch, and violently assails His brother to his face; now, trembling sore, He flees for refuge to my sheltering arms. 120 His foe pursues, and, as his victim clings Convulsively to me, he thrusts his sword With murderous intent through both our sides. Then, all a-tremble, do I start awake, And in my waking sense renew my fear. Add to these cares a rival, arrogant, 125 Who queens it in the spoils of this our house; At whose behest the mother was enticed To that fell ship which should have carried her To Orcus' depths; but when o'er ocean's waves She triumphed, he, than ocean's waves more harsh And pitiless, despatched her with the sword. Amid such deeds, what hopes of peace have I? 130 O'erblown with hate, triumphant, doth my rival Within my very chamber's hold defy me; With deadly malice doth she blaze against me, And as the price of her adulterous sweets, Doth she demand that he, my husband, give My life, his lawful wife's, in sacrifice. Oh, rise thou, father, from the gloomy shades, And help thy daughter who invokes thine aid; 135 Or else cleave wide the earth to Stygian depths, And let me plunge at last to shelter there.
_Nurse:_ In vain dost thou invoke thy father's soul, Poor child, in vain; for there among the shades He little thinks upon his offspring here; Who, when in life, unto his own true son Preferred the offspring of another's blood, 140 And to himself in most incestuous bonds And rites unhallowed joined his brother's child. From this foul source has flowed a stream of crime: Of murder, treachery, the lust of power, The thirst for blood. Thy promised husband fell, A victim slain to grace that wedding feast, 145 Lest, joined with thee, he should too mighty grow. Oh, monstrous deed! Silanus, charged with crime, Was slain to make a bridal offering, And stained the household gods with guiltless blood. And then this alien comes, Oh, woe is me, 150 And by his mother's wiles usurps the house, Made son-in-law and son to the emperor, A youth of temper most unnatural, To impious crime inclined, whose passion's flame His mother fanned, and forced thee at the last In hated wedlock into his embrace. Emboldened by this notable success, 155 She dared to dream of wider sovereignty. What tongue can tell the changing forms of crime, Her impious hopes, her cozening treacheries, Who seeks the throne along the ways of sin? Then Piety with trembling haste withdrew, 160 And Fury through the empty palace halls With baleful tread resounded, and defiled The sacred images with Stygian brands. All holy laws of nature and of heaven In mad abandon did she set at naught. She mingled deadly poison for her lord, 165 And she herself by the impious mandate fell Of her own son. Thou too dost lifeless lie, Poor youth, forever to be mourned by us, Ill-starred Britannicus, so late, in life, The brightest star of this our firmament, The prop and stay of our imperial house; But now, Oh, woe is me, a heap of dust, Of unsubstantial dust, a flitting shade. 170 Nay, even thy stepmother's cruel cheeks Were wet with tears, when on the funeral pyre She placed thy form and saw the flames consume Thy limbs and face fair as the wingéd god's.
_Octavia:_ Me, too, he must destroy--or fall by me.
_Nurse:_ But nature has not given thee strength to slay. 175
_Octavia:_ Yet anguish, anger, pain, distress of soul, The ecstasy of grief will give me strength.
_Nurse:_ Nay, by compliance, rather, win thy lord.
_Octavia:_ That thus he may restore my brother slain?
_Nurse:_ That thou thyself mayst go unscathed of death; That thou by thine own offspring mayst restore Thy father's falling house. 180
_Octavia:_ This princely house Expects an heir, 'tis true; but not from me, For I am doomed to meet my brother's fate.
_Nurse:_ Console thy heart with this, that thou art dear Unto the populace, who love thee well.
_Octavia:_ That thought doth soothe, but cannot cure my grief.
_Nurse:_ Their power availeth much. 185
_Octavia:_ The prince's more.
_Nurse:_ He will regard his wife.
_Octavia:_ My foe forbids.
_Nurse:_ But she is scorned by all.
_Octavia:_ Yet loved by him.
_Nurse:_ She is not yet his wife.
_Octavia:_ But soon will be, And mother of his child, his kingdom's heir.
_Nurse:_ The fire of youthful passion glows at first With heat impetuous; but soon abates, 190 And vanishes like flickering tongues of flame. Unhallowed love cannot for long endure; But pure and lasting is the love inspired By chaste and wifely faith. She who has dared To violate thy bed, and hold so long Thy husband's heart in thrall, herself a slave, Already trembles lest his fickle love 195 Shall thrust her forth and set a rival there. Subdued and humble, even now she shows How deep and real her fear; for her, indeed, Shall wingéd Cupid, false and fickle god, Abandon and betray. Though face and form Be passing fair, though beauty vaunt herself, And boast her power, still are her triumphs brief, 200 Her joys a passing dream. Nay, Juno's self, Though queen of heaven, endured such grief as thine, When he, her lord, and father of the gods, Stole from her side to seek in mortal forms The love of mortal maids. Now, in his need, 205 He dons the snowy plumage of a swan; Now hornéd seems, like a Sidonian bull; And now a glorious, golden shower he falls, And rests within the arms of Danaë. Nor yet is Juno's sum of woe complete: The sons of Leda glitter in the sky In starry splendor; Bacchus proudly stands Beside his father on Olympus' height; Divine Alcides hath to Hebe's charms 210 Attained, and fears stern Juno's wrath no more. Her very son-in-law hath he become Whom once she hated most. Yet in her heart Deep down she pressed her grief, and wisely won, By mild compliance to his wayward will, Her husband's love again. And now the queen, 215 Secure at last from rivalry, holds sway Alone, within the Thunderer's heart. No more, By mortal beauty smitten, does he leave His royal chambers in the vaulted sky. Thou, too, on earth, another Juno art, 220 The wife and sister of our mighty lord. Then be thou wise as she, make show of love, And hide thy crushing sorrows with a smile.
_Octavia:_ The savage seas shall sooner mate with stars, And fire with water, heav'n with gloomy hell, Glad light with shades, and day with dewy night, Than shall my soul in amity consort 225 With his black heart, most foul and impious: Too mindful I of my poor brother's ghost. And Oh, that he who guides the heavenly worlds, Who shakes the realms of earth with deadly bolts, And with his dreadful thunders awes our minds, Would whelm in fiery death this murderous prince. 230 Strange portents have we seen: the comet dire, Shining with baleful light, his glowing train Far gleaming in the distant northern sky, Where slow Boötes, numb with arctic frosts, Directs his ponderous wagon's endless rounds. The very air is tainted by the breath 235 Of this destructive prince; and for his sake The stars, resentful, threaten to destroy The nations which so dire a tyrant rules. Not such a pest was impious Typhon huge, Whom earth, in wrath and scorn of heaven, produced. This scourge is more destructive far than he. 240 He is the bitter foe of gods and men, Who drives the heavenly beings from their shrines, And from their native land the citizens; Who from his brother took the breath of life, And drained his mother's blood. And does he live, This guilty wretch, and draw his tainted breath? O Jove, thou high-exalted father, why 245 Dost thou so oft with thine imperial hand Thy darts invincible at random hurl? Why from his guilty head dost thou withhold Thy hand of vengeance? Oh, that he might pay For all his crimes the fitting penalty, This son of deified Domitius, This Nero, heartless tyrant of the world, 250 Which he beneath the yoke of bondage holds, This moral blot upon a noble name!
_Nurse:_ Unworthy he to be thy mate, I know; But, dearest child, to fate and fortune yield, Lest thou excite thy savage husband's wrath. Perchance some god will come to right thy wrongs, 255 And on thy life some happier day will dawn.
_Octavia:_ That may not be. Long since, our ill-starred house Has groaned beneath the heavy wrath of heaven. That wrath at first my hapless mother felt, Whom Venus cursed with lust insatiate; For she, with heedless, impious passion fired, 260 Unmindful of her absent lord, of us, Her guiltless children, and the law's restraints, In open day another husband wed. To that fell couch avenging Fury came With streaming locks and serpents intertwined, And quenched those stolen wedding fires in blood. For with destructive rage, on murder bent, 265 She fired the prince's heart; and at his word, Ah, woe is me, my ill-starred mother fell, And, dying, doomed me to perpetual grief. For after her in quick succession came Her husband and her son; and this our house, Already falling, was to ruin plunged.
_Nurse:_ Forbear with pious tears to renew thy grief, 270 And do not so disturb thy father's shade, Who for his rage has bitterly atoned.
* * * * *
_Chorus_ [_sympathetic with_ Octavia]: False prove the rumor that of late To our ears has come! May its vaunted threats Fall fruitless out and of no avail! 275 May no new wife invade the bed Of our royal prince; may Octavia, born Of the Claudian race, maintain her right And bear us a son, the pledge of peace, In which the joyful world shall rest, 280 And Rome preserve her glorious name. Most mighty Juno holds the lot By fate assigned--her brother's mate; But this our Juno, sister, wife Of our august prince, why is she driven 285 From her father's court? Of what avail Her faith, her father deified, Her love and spotless chastity? We, too, of our former master's fame Have been unmindful, and his child At the hest of cringing[56] fear betrayed. 290 Not so of old: then Rome could boast Of manly virtue, martial blood. There lived a race of heroes then Who curbed the power of haughty kings And drove them forth from Rome; and thee, O maiden, slain by thy father's hand, 295 Lest thou shouldst in slavery's bonds be held, And lest foul lust its victorious will Should work on thee, did well avenge. Thee, too, a bloody war avenged, O chaste Lucretia; for thou, 300 By the lust of an impious tyrant stained, With wretched hand didst seek to cleanse Those stains by thy innocent blood. Then Tullia with her guilty lord, Base Tarquin, dared an impious deed, Whose penalty they paid; for she 305 Over the limbs of her murdered sire, A heartless child, drove cruel wheels, And left his corpse unburied there. Such deeds of dire impiety Our age has known, our eyes have seen, When the prince on the mighty Tyrrhene deep 310 In a fatal bark his mother sent, By guile ensnared. The sailors at his bidding haste To leave the peaceful harbor's arms; And soon the rougher waves resound 315 Beneath their oars, and far away Upon the deep the vessel glides; When suddenly the reeling bark With loosened beams yawns open wide, And drinks the briny sea. A mighty shout to heaven goes, 320 With women's lamentations filled, And death stalks dire before the eyes Of all. Each seeks to save himself. Some naked cling upon the planks Of the broken ship and fight the floods, 325 While others swimming seek the shore. But most, alas! a watery death By fate awaits. Then did the queen In mad despair her garments rend; Her comely locks she tore, and tears Fell streaming down her grieving cheeks. 330 At last, with hope of safety gone, With wrath inflamed, by woes o'ercome, "Dost thou, O son, make this return," She cried, "for that great boon I gave? Such death I merit, I confess, 335 Who bore such monstrous child as thou, Who gave to thee the light of day, And in my madness raised thee high To Caesar's name and Caesar's throne. Oh, rise from deepest Acheron, My murdered husband, feast thine eyes 340 Upon my righteous punishment; For I brought death to thee, poor soul, And to thy son. See, see, I come, Deep down to meet thy grieving shade; And there, as I have merited, Shall I unburied lie, o'erwhelmed 345 By the raging sea." E'en as she spoke, The lapping waves broke o'er her lips, And deep she plunged below. Anon She rises from the briny depths, And, stung by fear of death, she strives With frenzied hands to conquer fate; But, spent with fruitless toil at last, 350 She yields and waits the end. But lo, In hearts which in trembling silence watch, Faith triumphs over deadly fear, And to their mistress, spent and wan With fruitless buffetings, they dare To lend their aid with cheering words 355 And helping hands. But what avails To escape the grasp of the savage sea? By the sword of the son is she doomed to die, Whose monstrous deed posterity Will scarce believe. With rage and grief 360 Inflamed, he raves that still she lives, His mother, snatched from the wild sea's jaws, And doubles crime on impious crime. Bent on his wretched mother's death, He brooks no tarrying of fate. 365 His willing creatures work his will, And in the hapless woman's breast The fatal sword is plunged; but she To that fell minister of death Appeals with dying tongue: "Nay here, Here rather strike the murderous blow, Here sheathe thy sword, deep in the womb 370 Which such a monster bore." So spake the dying queen, her words And groans commingling. So at last Through gaping wounds her spirit fled 375 In grief and agony.
FOOTNOTES:
[55] Reading, _mariti mutua_.
[56] Reading, _saevo_.