PHYSICIAN. The Emperor comes from gazing on Poppaea.What woe may that dead face not work on him,After such rain of dark calamities!
SENECA. Why hath he summoned me?
PHYSICIAN. He knows not why.The infatuate orgies in Campania,Defeat, revolt, have wrought upon his mind,Till it begins to reel—behind each woeHe sees the angered shade of Agrippina.
[EnterNEROwith tablets, murmuring to himself. He comesto theCOUNCILLORS,gazes at them, and retires to parapet.
'Beautiful on her bed Poppaea lay'—I have begun to write her epitaph.
[He again gazes over parapet, murmuring to himself. Then turning
Ah, blow supreme! Ah, ultimate injury!I can no longer write: my brain is barren.My gift, my gift, thou hast left me. Let me die!Ah! what an artist perishes in me.
[He again returns to parapet, gazing and murmuring, and throwshis tablets from him.
Dead Agrippina rages unappeased.At night I hear the trailing of a robe,And the slain woman pauses at my door.O! she is mightier having drunk of death;Now hath she haled Poppaea from my arms;Last doth she quench the holy fire within me——
EnterMESSENGER
MESSENGER. Caesar, I bring dark news:Boadicea the British Queen is risen,And like a fire is hissing through the isle,Londinium and CamulodunumIn ashes lie; the loosed barbariansIn madness rage and ravish, murder and burn.
BURRUS. Caesar, despatch.
[BringsNEROpaper.
NERO. Ah, this is still the deedOf Agrippina. Listen! Did ye not hearThe rustle of a robe? [Starting up.Ah! thou art come!I—I no order gave! Then did the brineDrop from thy hair: but now blood falls from thee;There, where they struck thee, once did I sleep sound.What shall I do to appease thee? Let me dieRather than see that wonder on thy face,And stare on me of terrible surprise.Thou com'st upon me!
ACTE. Ah! what ails your mind?
NERO. She is gone! The red drops those that fell from her!
ACTE. Lo! I am with thee!
NERO. Thou! And who art thou?
Enter in great haste anOFFICER,followed byOTHERS
OFFICER. Caesar, Rome burns! We cannot fight the fireWhich blazes and consumes. How it aroseNone knows and none can tell. What shall we do?
ANOTHER. It sprung in the Suburra: whether litBy accident, dropped torch, or smouldering brand——
ANOTHER. Or by design——
ANOTHER. Caesar, the Christians,Who hate the human race, have done this thing:They loathe thy rule and would abolish thee,And with thee, Rome.
ANOTHER. They have a prophecyThat now the world is ending, and in fireThe globe shall shrivel, and this empire fallIn cinders.
ANOTHER. And the moon be turned to blood.
NERO. The moon be turned to blood! But that is fine!These Christians have imaginations then!The moon in blood, and burning universe!Why, I myself might have conceived that scene!
EnterOTHERSfrom the opposite side
OFFICER. Caesar, what shall be done?Still spreads the fire!A quarter of Rome in ashes lies already,And like a blackened corpse: and screaming mothers,Hugging their babes, dash through the fearful flames,And old men totter gasping through the blazeOr fall scorched to the ground. Stifled with smokeThe population from their houses reel.Meantime the Christians, prophesying woeAnd final doom upon a wicked world,Hither and thither run, and with their darkForebodings madden all the minds of men.To thee they point! To thee, the source of fire,Who has drawn down on them celestial flame.
NERO. Magnificent! The aim of heavenly fire!
ANOTHER. They say the world shall crumble, and the skiesFall, and their God come in the clouds of heavenTo judge the earth!
ANOTHER. But we are wasting breathOver the Christians: what now shall be done?To thee, Caesar, to thee, we come: for thouAlone mayst with this conflagration cope.
NERO. Listen! Did ye not hear a wailing then?The wailing of a woman in her grave?Again! A wailing, and I know the voice!
EnterOTHERShastily
MESSENGER. Caesar, the fire has reached the Palatine!Rome will be ashes soon.
ANOTHER. We have fought fireWith water: matched the elements in vain,For the fire triumphs: Caesar, what aid from thee?
EnterANOTHER
MESSENGER. Caesar, the temple of Jupiter is aflame.The shrine of Vesta next will crash to the earth.
ANOTHER. Open the sluices of the Campus Martius.
ANOTHER. Issue some sudden edict: give command.
NERO. No edict will I issue, or command.Let the fire rage.
CHORUS. O Caesar!
NERO. Let it rage!
ANOTHER. Caesar, 'tis said this fire was lit by thee.That thou wouldst burn old Rome to build a new,A Rome more glorious issuing from the flames:This tale hath maddened all the common folkWho, from their smouldering homes, curse thee aloud.
NERO. This fire is not the act of mortal mind,But is the huge conception of a spiritDreaming beyond the tomb a mighty thought.She would express herself in burning fire:This is the awful vengeance of the dead;This is my mother Agrippina's deed.I will not baulk the fury of her spirit.No! Let her glut her anger on the city,For only Rome in ashes can appease her,Let the fire rage and purge me of her blood![The flame flashes upward.Rage!Rage on!See, see!How beautiful!Like a rose magnificently burning![The flame flashes up.Rage on!Thou art that which poets use,Or which consumes them.Thou art in me!Thou dreadful womb of mighty spirits,And crimson sepulchre of them![The flame flashes up.Blaze! Blaze!How it eats and eats!How it drinks!What hunger is like unto the hunger of fire?What thirst is like unto the thirst of flame?[The flame flashes up.O fury superb!O incurable lust of ruin!O panting perdition!O splendid devastation!I, I, too, have felt it!To destroy—to destroy!To leave behind me ashes, ashes.[The flame flashes up.Rage! Rage on!Or art thou passion, art thou desire?Ah! terrible kiss![The flame flashes up.Now hear it, hear it!A hiss as from mighty serpents,The dry, licking, wicked tongues!Wouldst thou sting the earth to death?What a career!To clasp and devour and kill!To dance over the world as a frenzied dancerWith whirling skirts of world-wide flame![The flame flashes up.Blaze! Blaze!Or art thou madness visible,Insanity seizing the rolling heavens.[He points up.Thou, Thou, didst create the worldIn the stars innumerably smiling.Thou art life, thou art God, thou art I![The flame flashes up.Mother! Mother!This is thy deed.Hist! Hist! can you not see herStealing with lighted torch?She makes no sound, she hath a spirit's tread.Hast thou sated thy vengeance yet?Art thou appeased?[The flame flashes up.Be satisfied with nothing but the world,The world alone is fuel for thee.Mother![The flame flashes up.And I! See what a fire I have given thee,Rome for a funeral couch!Had Achilles a pyre like to thisOr had Patroclus?Had they mourners such as I give to thee,Bereaved mothers and babes?Now let the wailing cease from thy tomb,Here is a mightier wail!Now let the haunting trumpet be dumb!
ACTE. Nero!
NERO. Blaze! Rage! Blaze![The flame flashes up more fervently.For now am I free of thy blood,I have appeased and atoned,Have atoned with cries, with crashings, and with flaming.Thy blood is no more on my head;I am purged, I am cleansed;I have given thee flaming Rome for the bed of thy death!O Agrippina!
[He falls in a swoon—ACTEruns towards him.