ACT · III

ACT · IIISCENE · 1The same. SENECA.SENECA.Burruswas right. The more I think of it,The time has come that one or both must go;So the more dangerous first, then are we quit1013At once of all our mischief and disgrace.’Tis past belief that she who plunged in crimeTo enthrone her son should now plot to dethrone him.There is no bridle for a wicked woman.Men may despise the venerable pathOf virtue, and refuse the wholesome lawsOf plain philosophy, but still they lean1020Towards reason, even in their wickedness.There’s an accountable consistencyFound in their actions; but if once a womanThrow off, as men soon do, the first restraintsOf credulous childhood; if her nature lackTenderness, modesty, and that respectTo self which sees in self a thing to guardFrom passion and caprice, and in the pleasureOf fitness finds a law,—if she lack thatOr overpass it,—there’s no further bound:1030All things are mixed together; virtue, crime,Wisdom and folly. For they have a spiritOf infinite wrong genius. Rule, I say,Such women if you can; rule them with iron.Enter Nero.NERO.Good-morrow, Seneca. Thou comest in time;I need thy counsel.Sen.I am here to give it.Ner.Then tell me: Where I have been lately threatened,Am I in danger? I will use thy judgment.Is’t needful for my safety to removeBritannicus?Sen.I have well considered all.1040You must dismiss your mother.Ner.Not so, Seneca.She now resigns all power and sign of empire,And is content to live in quiet, retiredWith few attendants and contracted state.Sen.She offered terms?Ner.See, since she now concedesAll reasonable claims, my duty towards herPatches our quarrel.Sen.Whence this newborn trust?Ner.She must remain. What of Britannicus?Sen.He need not trouble you.Ner.So said my mother.I had thought differently, and even had made1050Full preparation for his going hence.Would’st thou too bid me think there is no danger?Sen.None, if your mother goes.Ner.But nay, she stays.Sen.That makes him dangerous.Ner.Thy reason, Seneca?Sen.I well can guess, Nero, your mother’s veinWith you in private: but ’twould much divertYour inclination from it, could you knowHer latest way with me.Ner.What hath she said?Sen.Will you now think she hath urged Burrus and meTo set our honoured oaths and firm allegiance1060To you aside, as being unjustly sworn;To undo all she has done, and bring BritannicusBack to the people as Rome’s rightful heir?Ner.I knew this, Seneca; and if ’twere meant,Where lies the danger?Sen.True; but then she vowsPlainly that, rather than resign her power,She will make known her crimes, nor spare herself,If in the implication of her ruinShe may involve us too. Know you of that?Ner.She could not mean it.Sen.Certainly ’twas in passion1070Spoken, and fury: but ’tis such a thingAs might be done in passion.Ner.And what says Burrus?Sen.He too would urge, as I, the Augusta’s exile.Ner.Yet must she stay.Sen.Nay, Nero, she must go.Ner.I bade thee, Seneca, to counsel me:Call’st thou this counsel? ’Tis in the exigenceOf such affairs that their necessityPrecludes the true decision: this thou’st taught me:And that the man of counsel is but heWho handles best the circumstance, most gentlyResolves the knot, not cuts it. In this difficulty1081Is there no course?Sen.I go not back from this;If both remain there’s none.Ner.Is my life threatened?Sen.Ay.Ner.Then Britannicus must go, and shall go,As first I purposed.Sen.Whither will you send him?Ner.Far out of hearing of his claim. ’Tis notA trifling matter.Sen.See now to the other extremeHow you o’erleap the mean from wrong to wrong!Ner.Such wrongs the title of my power condones.Shall I at the outset of a world-wide policy1090Stick at a household scruple, and for fearTo do a private wrong forfeit the powerWhich makes me Cæsar? See my glory tripAt a little ill because I will not levelMy safety with the welfare of the world?Sen.But what you must not, that you cannot do.Ner.Rather what Cæsar must do, that he may.Rome understands not empire yet: we learnedSomething of Herod.Sen.O the injustice, Nero!The wrong! How! Will you sooner spill a life1100So innocent, your creditor in kindness,Than do disgrace to another, one so guiltyAs to deserve, sinking all exigency,The fearful penalty you now misplace?Think twice.Ner.Why, if I think of it again,Is not thy error fourfold more than mine?This need is granted to all tyrannies,To slay pretenders, ay, and most of allThose of the family: but for a mother,The very Persian or the unrivalled Jew1110Would shrink from her dishonour.Sen.(aside). What to say?Being out of kinship ’twere the lesser blot—Yet there’s his innocence. NecessityCannot suborn morality so farAs such confusion,—nor the alternativeMay yet be shunned,—and when the best is wrong ...Ner.What thinkest thou?Sen.Wait: it shall be my officeTo find some better means.Ner.’Twill be thine officeTo show in such a speech as I may makeAfter his death, that, howsoe’er he died,—Which you shall know no more than shall my hearers,—1121’Twas for the general good.Sen.Be counselled, Nero.This is not my advice.Ner.Thou offerest noneWhich can be taken.Sen.See, I have brought your speechTouching the Parthian war.Ner.’Tis long.Sen.The matterBeing very weighty, ’twill be looked for from youTo say thus much: but if it seem too long,’Tis so composed that with these brackets here,Skipped as you list, the speech is any length.Ner.I thank thee. I shall need that other speech.1130Sen.I pray you may not need it. My adviceIs wait.Ner.Is it? Stay—Seneca, dost thou thinkMy mother was in earnest when she urgedTreason on thee and Burrus? And dost thou thinkShe fooled me in saying that she made proposalTo Burrus but to sound his honesty?Sen.Eh! with that tale she took you?Ner.Is’t not true?Sen.That true!Ner.She was in earnest though in passion?Answer me.Sen.Ay, she was.Ner.I pray thee leave me.I shall not wait.[Exit Seneca.1140I stand alone. Such officers as shareThe functions of tyrannic governmentCannot be looked to for a policyOf personal security; they lackThe motive that abates the fear of crime.Britannicus must go, and ’tis my handMust aim his death. I have a medicineWhich he must drink for me, to save my life.To-night shall do it. But for my other enemy,My mother, who with such dissimulation1150Won me, spite of foreknowledge of her deeds,And judgment of her purpose—Ha! indeed;Seneca’s laughing-stock! Now, what I doWill much surprise her. If it kill her hopeAnd prove my temper towards her, ’twill be well.[Exit.SCENE · 2Room in Domitia’s house. Enter DOMITIA and PARIS.DOMITIA.Come hither, Paris!Thou art my freedman.PARIS.Ay, madam.Dom.HithertoThou hast served me well.Par.Ay, madam.Dom.Would’st thou nowRetrieve thy purchase money?Par.Dost thou sayThou wilt restore me that for any serviceI can perform?Dom.I do.Par.But name the deed.1160Dom.Dost thou remember Crispus Passienus?Par.Could I forget thy honoured husband, madam,That was my master?Dom.Paris, thou hast a wife,And thy wife hath a sister ..Par.Ay.Dom.How think’st thouThy wife would love her sister, if that sisterSupplanted her with thee, sowed seeds of hate,Contrived divorce, and when thou wert divorcedShould marry thee herself?Par.Madam, I knowThy wrong, and share thy hate.Dom.That was not all.Par.Not all?1170Dom.Nay, listen, Paris: if I forgetMy kinship in my hatred, I have cause.I loved him, and have now no thought in lifeBut to avenge his murder.Par.Why! can’st thou think?...Dom.Think! do I think? I cannot speak of it.If ’tis suspicion, be it so—and yet ...Well, thou hast seen my heart—even were my sisterKind I should not forgive: but seeing she worksAgainst me still to drive me from the court,I put my strength with Cæsar, to disbarrass1180The palace of this plague. Say wilt thou aid me?Par.The favour Cæsar shows me binds me, lady,To have no thought but his; and if his motherMisses his love, ’tis not made up by mine.Dom.I’d have thee on my side whate’er I do.I have now contrived a scheme which hangs on theeTo bring it home.Par.I will do anythingThat will not touch my life.Dom.She is hard to catch.Late, when she plotted with Britannicus,Though ’twas as clear as day, when brought to questionShe quite out-faced us all.Enter Servant.SERVANT.Madam, Seleucus1190The astrologer would speak with you.Dom.Admit him.[Exit Servt.Paris, I’ll tell thee later of my plans.Meanwhile keep close with Nero: let me hearAught he lets fall that might advance our matter:Seleucus’ visit is a part of it;I’ll speak with him alone.Par.Madam, I go.[Exit.Enter Seleucus.Dom.How now, Seleucus? Foiled!SELEUCUS.I warned you, lady,How impotent and vain an arm hath truthUnhelped by art.Dom.Thou did’st but well, and now1200I shall lean more on thee. Hast thou persuadedPoppæa of her fortune?Sel.Ay, my lady,I promised her two Cæsars.Dom.Two! how two?Sel.A secret that of art; our divinationHath many such. The gods are favourable.Dom.Talk not to me of gods. One was enough;Yet the other matters not. Two Cæsars indeed!Most favourable gods!—See, here I give youTwo hundred sesterces: but for that sumRequire another service.Sel.I thank you, madam.Dom.Locusta hath been seen with Nero.Sel.Ah,1210How knew you that?Dom.Attend to what I say.I fear ’tis for Britannicus: the Empress,Ridding herself, cannot have quitted him.If ’tis his death is aimed at—and ’tis for theeTo probe and reach the truth—then if ’tis possibleThou must prevent it. Go, give him a message,He must not sup with Cæsar if he is bid.Find you the probabilities, and layThe warning where is need.Sel.’Twere a good office, lady.Dom.Go quickly then. If thou do well in this,1221I will reward thee well.Sel.I will deserve it.[Exeunt.SCENE · 3The room in Otho’s house. Enter POPPÆA and MAID.MAID.Madam, the litter waits.POPPÆA.Give me my mirror, miss.Why, see how slovenly thou’st done my hair;’Tis out already.Maid.With your pardon, madam,’Tis very well. Nay, ’tis as firm as a rock.You look your best to-night.Pop.Where is the flowerI gave thee?Maid.Here, my lady.Pop.Put it in.There, there. Ay, that will do. Now where’s mycloak?[Exit Maid.Enter Otho.OTHO.So then you are going?Pop.Yes, I go alone,1230Since you will not come with me.Oth.You are always freeTo have your way; but when your wish is mine,It is twice yours. This time you know ’tis not:And were I used to set constraint upon you,Could it be said Otho e’er crossed his wifeWith a command, it should be now: I’d sayThis I forbid.Pop.And why?Oth.I entreat you, dearest.Pop.I am pledged to go.Oth.Go not.Pop.There’s now no choice.Oth.A light excuse would serve: a sudden sickness,A cold, a headache. Do not go.Pop.Why, look!1240If you are not jealous, Otho! jealous, jealous.You see not straight.Oth.I see you smile on Cæsar.Pop.And think you, then, I must have turned my loveWhere I have smiled? that I would play you falseFor the pleasure of it?Oth.Why then sup with Cæsar?Pop.A trifle hangs upon him I would wear,—The world.Oth.So dazzled by the imperial splendour!Think: to be Cæsar’s mistress for a yearIs not to rule the world.Pop.I will be Cæsar’s wife.Oth.Ah! look you then so high?1250Pop.Who shall be called my rival?Oth.Cæsar’s wife.Pop.She hinders not.Oth.Oh, thou would’st never dare it,Did’st thou not love him.Pop.What should I not dare?Oth.Hast thou considered well the ambiguous styleThou goest to take, and yet determined?Pop.Ay.Oth.’Tis death, ’tis death. I speak now but for thee:Not for myself. The cup Octavia drinksTo quit thy place thou too wilt come to taste.Pop.That is my risk. The sport were tame without it:1260The game can boast a sting.Oth.Weigh well the danger:Think of it thus; to live on a capriceWhose jealousy is death; where for the reasonOne seems to love thee will be ten to hate thee;Where not to be beforehand with a treacheryIs to be victim.Pop.I can steer my way.Oth.And for this desperate venture wilt cast offMy love, our love?Pop.What is love?Oth.Art thou Poppæa?Wer’t any else but thou that questioned thus,My answer then were ready: I should say1270Ask of Poppæa, ’tis the thing she knows;Ask Otho’s wife what love is, she can tell.And thou to ask! as if ’twere some strange matterWide of experience, and to ask of meWho won thee for my teacher!Pop.’Tis true the impeachmentI make of love is that he hath exhaustedHis treasure rather than denied us aught.Oth.Exhausted love! how mean you?Pop.See! I am madeOf other stuff and passions besides love.You cannot wish that all my life should move1280Pent in this narrow circle, day by dayKeeping the pretty game up which I learnedWhen I was green: that I should ne’er do elseThan this one thing, and that so constantlyThat even the habit and the practice of itAre scarce employment; that I should grow grey,And see the wide and seasonable fieldOf life’s exertion and excitement fallowWith this one weed of love?Oth.A weed, you say!Pop.I have other motions in me. I’ve an itch1290Men call ambition, and I see a prizeLooks worth the having.Oth.’Tis not worth the having.Pop.Why, what were I to thee, could’st thou be Cæsar?Oth.Even all thou art; I have no itch to ruleMerely to see that game played out, and cryAt the end—what is ambition?Pop.It hath no end.Oth.’Tis plain love hath an end.Pop.Nay, as I love thee,I still shall love thee. Only, Otho ....Oth.What?Pop.I thought your eye was open to perceiveThe grandeur of my scheme.Oth.Thou wert mistaken.Pop.Upon what falls to-night, let us decide.1300I have no secrets from you: if I prosper,Desert me if you will, but blame me not:For dared I combat Cæsar’s inclinationThere were as much to lose. The thing I doWill be your safety.Oth.Rather would I die,Ay, rather far that thou should’st die than doThis baseness willingly.Pop.Nay, speak not so.I shall do nothing base.Oth.Thou must succeed.Only before thou goest I’ll kiss thee once.[Kisses Pop.1310Otho’s last kiss. Farewell.Pop.Good night. I go.Lesbia, my cloak! I shall have news ere morn.[Exit.Oth.Gone! With a graceAs firm, as pleasant, gay and self-possessedAs that with which she hath come a thousand timesTo meet me, kiss me, and call me hers, she goesTo change her husband .. gone! and not a signTo show that leaving me was losing aught!Fool that I was! To the soul I knew her vain,Self-seeking, light, petulant at the breath1320Of contradiction, and yet I trusted. What,Asks she, is love. Ay, what? I love my dog;He is devoted beyond reason, pitifulIn his dependence; he will scarce reproach meWith some short wondering sorrow, if I strike him—I love my horse; he bears me willingly,Answering spiritedly; with all his strengthGenerous and gentle. But woman, if man love her,—Seeing she is less devoted than the hound,Less noble than the horse,—’tis that we deem,1330That being human she can gauge the worthOf our intensity, and in kind somewhatRepay it: ’tis a delusion; spite of shew,She hath not in her heart that which her eyesFondly declare. There is no passion possibleWhich beauty can interpret or soft speechExpress, which was not mine; ay, by that titleO’er and o’er; yet I think no dog in RomeWould leave the meanest slave that fed him once,As hath this woman left the man that loved her.[Knocking.Enter Lucan and Petronius.LUCAN.Ha! here he is. We have come to fetch you, Otho.Oth.I do not go to-night.1341PETRONIUS.Not go! What is’t, man?—ill?Oth.My wife has gone, therefore I do not go:—You see the matter, maybe have foreseen it;I was too blind. Spare me your condolence;I do not wish even sympathy. You knowI loved her, but ’tis over. Let me give youSuch knowledge as I wish my friends to have,Else might they mistake somewhat. See! she is gone1350To-night against my wish: ’tis nothing more:But this will lead to much. I let my house;Sell you my wine, Petronius, if you wish it,And take—I shall not want for interest—The Lusitanian proconsulate.Luc.You go from Rome?Oth.I do.Petr.Break not with Cæsar.Oth.I’ll take employment.Petr.Jove! I think you’re wise,Otho; you’re wise. I’ve half a mind myselfTo give my friends the slip. But as it is,Well..come, I’ll take the wine; what is your price?1360Oth.The price I gave.Petr.A bargain. I shall send for it.Luc.(to Otho). Otho, I will not go. Although thy wrongCannot be stayed, yet would I rather dieThan sit and smile on it.Oth.I thank thee, Lucan.I’d ask thee rather look upon the matterAs on a thing of course: I think it is.Go, take no note of it.Luc.If ’tis thy wish.Oth.It is. Good night.Luc. and Petr.Good night.[Exeunt.SCENE · 4A room in the Palace. Enter AGRIPPINA.AGRIPPINA.Thus must it be then. I must be cast out,Turned from the palace, lodged in a private house,1370Retired, reduced, forgotten, like any relicOf barbarous royalty, caged out of reachOf good or ill; my state just so much showAs has no meaning. Now may some god of mischiefDare set me in the roll of puny spirits.Ah!—Hath this my seal, seemeth it? O may my foesBe fooled so far to think that guile will stayFirst in catastrophe. Nay, if I crouch,’Tis but to plant a foot whence I may boundWith braver spring.—I am clear; the right’s my hope.1380Right against blood hath still been honourable.Men love the name of Brutus. The first BrutusSlew his own son; the last his Cæsar. Ha!’Tis madness; nay, that’s not my thought, not that.’Twould fright the world that there should be a womanWho could slay Cæsar and son in one. Nay, nay,That lies beyond all fate. Yet, short of that,—O blood, thou sacrament and bond of nature,Look to the strain: summon thy best allies,Thy yearnings and thy shudderings, thy terrorsAnd dreams of dread; marshal the myriad fingers1391Of scorn and hate: else, O thy rottennessWill out. Indeed I think thou’rt a weak thing,Bred of opinion; when I would have trusted thee,Hath not that other rivet of thy chainSnapped at the mutual end? Thy boasted anchorDrags on the bottom, and my ship drifts onTo the rocks, to the rocks: missing that hold, the senseIs dizzy with madness; ay, and whither I goIs hidden; nor aught I know, save that the future,1400Whate’er it be, I shall do much to make.Enter Britannicus.Ah! ah! ’tis thee.Speak softly, for these walls have ears.BRITANNICUS.Thou thinkestThat Cæsar watches me.Agr.To-day thy spiesAre mine, but must not hear.Br.Hast thou seen Burrus?Agr.He is thine enemy: no hope from him.Br.I would not have this spoken of as my hope.Agr.True, boy. I mentioned not thy name, and Nero,Being now persuaded thou art innocent,Forgives thee. Let the risk I ran for thee1410Be earnest of more good.Br.I thank thee for it.Agr.’Tis nothing, this. Thou yet shalt reign.Br.I pray theeDraw me not into thy deep-plotted schemesThat rush on guilt. If I have hope or wish,’Tis but to live till the divorce be writ’Twixt Cæsar and my sister: that is not longTo wait; and then her exile, which must follow,If I may share, I think some days of peaceMay be in store for both. That is my hope,Not Rome, nor empire, but some tranquil spot1420Where innocence may dwell, and be allowedTo be its own protection.Agr.Are you that fool?Br.I would none doubted it.Agr.Can it be possibleThat thou, who in thy veins hast the best bloodOf Rome, should’st own so beggarly a spirit,And being the heir of all the world should’st wishOnly to hide thy claim, so thou may’st liveThe life which broken-hearted slaves, and menDiseased and aged scarce prize?Br.I hear, I hear,And am not shamed.Agr.Nay, then I have more to say.Br.I too might say somewhat. Is it not strange,1431Thou being a lady, should’st possess a heartSo fond of wrong, and blood, and wrathful deeds?Agr.Ah, ah! Thou thinkest that thou know’st me rightly,And yet would’st dare to taunt me, and to thwartMy stablished purpose? Child, I say, rememberThe deeds thou castest in my teeth, and thinkWhether it were not much better now at lastTo side with me, and take the help I proffer.I have sworn to set thee on the throne; think twiceEre thou oppose my will.Br.Did’st thou not say1440Thou had’st persuaded Nero of my innocence?Agr.Say I was wrong.Br.Nay, thou wert right in that,Wrong now returning on disclaimed ambition.Agr.Art thou content to see thyself deposed,Thy sister thus dishonoured ....Br.Say no more.Agr.Consider!Br.Nay, I’ll not consider.Agr.NowThis once again I bid thee, child, consider.Doubt not my power.Br.No more. I will not join thee.Agr.Then hear me, child. Whether thou join or not,1450Whether thou wilt be Cæsar, or refusest,Thou shalt be Cæsar. If thou wilt not plot,It shall be plotted for thee: in my handsI hold thy life, and guard it but for this,To make thee Cæsar. Ay, and if thou shrinkestWhen the day comes, I’ll have a doll made like thee;My men shall carry it about, and style itBritannicus, and shout to it as to Cæsar.I say thou shalt be Cæsar, think it o’er.Dare not refuse me: ’tis not yet too late;1460To-morrow I will speak with thee again.Now to thy better thought.[Exit.Br.O murderess!And for this last turn must I thank my folly,That partly trusted her. Now would to heaven,If live I must, that I might change my lotWith any man soe’er, though he be chosenAnd picked for misery. Surely there’s noneIn all the empire can show cause to standAnd weigh his woe with mine. Find me the man,If such there be, that hath an only sister1470’Spoused to a murderer and adulterer,Who hates her virtue, since it shames pretextTo cast her off: or, if such man be found,Hath he for mother one that slew his father,And threats him with like death? or if all thisBe matched in one, hath he no remedy?Is his speech treason? Is his silence treason?Is he quite friendless, helpless?Forbidden to budge a foot from the dread focusOf crime and anguish? ’Mongst his lesser wrongsHath he this brag, that he hath been robbed, as I,1481Of the empire of the world? O happy hinds,Who toil under clear skies, and for complaintDiscuss long hours, low wages, meagre food,Hard beds and scanty covering: ye who trailA pike in German swamps, or shield your headsOn Asian sands, I’d welcome all your griefsSo I might taste the common nameless joysWhich ye light-heartedly so lightly prize,And know not what a text for happinessLies in a thoughtless laugh: what long, impassable,1491Unmeasured gulfs of joy sunder it offFrom my heart-stifling woe.Enter Octavia.Thou art welcome, sister.OCTAVIA.Brother, a request you must grant.Br.Anything,Dearest, to thee.Oct.Sup not to-night with Cæsar.Br.I must. Yet what’s thy reason? Thou art movedStrangely beyond the matter.Oct.Read this paper.Br.(reads).Britannicus, sup not to-day with Cæsar.How came you by it?Oct.’Tis from Fulvia,The maid that loves Seleucus; whence ’tis his.Br.Most like; I know the turbaned mountebank1500Keeps an old kindness for me. Yet nay, nay—If this should now be found—nay, he’s too shrewdTo put himself in writing.Oct.He might dareWith Fulvia.Br.Nay. I cannot think ’tis his.And were it, what’s his credit? I do not trustThese fellows far. They trade in mystery,And love to thicken water,—and if there beA plot to poison me, to-day’s occasionOffers no easier vantage than to-morrow’s.My safety lies elsewhere.Oct.O do not go.1510Br.Fear not, Octavia, I am very careful,And eat but sparingly of any dish,Nor aught but what goes round. To stay awayMight show suspicion, and could serve no end.Oct.Brother, be warned, go not to-night;to-morrowWe may learn more. I beg ...Br.Nay, urge me not,Since with this warning I am doubly safe.Oct.Oh, I dread Nero’s anger; ’tis most certainThat ill will come of it.Br.Nay, fear him not.1519Let us go sup. I will use all precaution,Thou may’st be sure, since for thy sake I do it:And while thou livest I shall have both reasonAnd wish to live. Have care, too, for thyself;I think thy peril is no less than mine.[Exeunt.SCENE · 5Supper-room in the Palace. All are reclined at two tables, thus:Agrippina,Nero,Poppæa.A gentm.,Octavia,A lady.Tigellinus,A gentm.Britannicus,Paris.A lady,Domitia.Petronius,Lucan.Waiters, tasters, etc. Some are talking.NERO.I will propose a question to the table:Which of the arts is greatest? Lucan, these sausagesAre something new: try them.POPPÆA.You question, Cæsar,Which of the arts is greatest? I would answerThe one which Cæsar honours.TIGELLINUS.But if CæsarShould honour more than one?PETRONIUS.The sausages1529Are good enough. As for the arts, here’s LucanCan speak for poetry.Ner.If any manCould prove one art beyond contention first,I would reward him excellently. With meTo know the best and follow it are one:Success being easy in all, my difficultyLies in distraction: show me then the best,I’ll perfect that.Pop.What! Cæsar give up singing?Ner.For better things.Tig.Which be the arts?Petr.(to servants).Here, vermin,This wine’s half-way to vinegar.Ner.Who will name1540The arts? There’s sculpture, painting, poetry,Singing ..PARIS.And acting.Ner.Well, what more?Tig.Horse-racing.Pop.(across). Ruling I think’s an art.AGRIPPINA(across).And making love.Ner.’Tis of the fine arts we would speak.(To servants) Ho! fellows,Pour out the wine! Ah, here’s a lovely mullet.Has this been tasted?TASTER.Ay, Cæsar. ’Tis stuffed with truffles.Ner. A mullet stuffed with truffles. Now, Poppæa,Will not this please?Pop.I thank you.—(aside) Prithee, bidLucan to speak for poetry.BRITANNICUS(to servant).Nay, the mullet.Ner.Lucan, what say you for your art?LUCAN.I claim1550The first place for it, and I say ’tis provedNobler than any plastic art in this;It needs not tools nor gross material,And hath twin doors to the mind, both eye and ear.Nay, even of drama Aristotle held,Though a good play must act well, that ’tis perfectWithout the stage: which shows that poetryStains not her excellence by being kindTo those encumbrances, which, in my judgment,Are pushed to fetter fancy.—Then hath our art1560Such strong and universal masteryO’er heart and mind, that here ’tis only musicCompetes, and she is second far in scope,Directness, and distinction.Ner.You think that?Luc.Ay, Cæsar.Ner.Do you! you who have ever beenMore gracious to my voice than to my pen!Am I a better singer then than poet,Think you?Luc.Nay, Cæsar; but ....Ner.Ha! then you are envious.You would not have me write because, forsooth,You write yourself. Now, by the god, I swear1570Thou shalt not publish nor recite a verseWithin my empire till I give thee leave.One man to keep the muses to himself!Monstrous!Pop.And serve him right.Luc.(aside). Monstrous indeed!Ner.(to servants). Heat me some wine.Come, lords, ye drink not. Eh! what have we here?Servant.Cherubim, Cæsar.Ner.What is Cherubim?Petr.The gods of the Jews.Ner.Hoo! let us eat their gods.They are much like pheasants.Servt.’Tis a pheasant, Cæsar,And stuffed with woodcock.Petr.Cæsar, there’s one artHas not been mentioned; though I think at table1581It should not be passed o’er.Ner.What art is that?Petr.I shall contend it is the first of all.Ner.Name it.Petr.It hath no name. It scarce exists.I think the goddess never walked the earth.Par.Ranks she with poetry?Petr.I avouch above.Par.Cæsar, if this be proved, thou must rescindThy poet’s sentence.Ner.Let him prove it first.Petr.I see in other arts some wit or fancyExtrinsical to nature. I can find1590No ground of need in any, save maybeIn architecture,—which ranks not so wellAs to be mentioned by you.—Now, if IShow you an art whose matter every dayIs life’s necessity, which gives more scopeTo skill than any other, which delightsAmong the senses one which the other artsWholly neglect, would you not say this artHath the first claim? See, I could live withoutThe joys of harmony, colour, or form,1600But without this it were impossibleTo outlast the week.Par.Oh! Cookery.Several.Cookery, cookery!Petr.There’s the mistake I gird at. None of youBut thinks this art I speak of, which includesPleasures of entertainment, ease and elegance,The mind’s best recreation, the satisfactionOf the body’s nearest needs, the preservationOf health, and with all this, the gratifyingOf that one sense, which above all the sensesIs subtle, difficult, discerning, ticklish,1610And most importunate,—that this great artIs a cook’s province.Ner.True, Petronius, true;There’s room for bettering these things.Petr.Why, wine—Just think of wine. A hundred vintagesLie in my cellar; by my taste I tellEach one; are eye or ear so delicate?Par.Here’s half a case already.Petr.Then again,Look on this side. You bid your friends to supper:That is a promise; and hath all your life1619An hour more suitable for skilful kindness?They come perturbed, fatigued, hungry and thirsty;Nature exhausts them for you, drains them emptyTo take all kinds of pleasure; their grated nervesAsk music, their wearied limbs soft cushioned couches,Their harassed mind wise cheerful conversation,Their body’s appetites fawn at the wordOf food and wine: and yet we see these things,Which should be studied, ordered, suited, measured,All jumbled in confusion, till a feast,Instead of relaxation and renewal,1630Becomes, I say, for body and for mindThe worst discomfort and the stiffest trialThat life can show.Par.Bravo! bravo!Ner.For one,I am converted. Thou shalt be henceforthArbiter of my table.Br.(to servt.) ’Tis boiling hot;Taste it.Ner.(to Petron.) Accept you the office?Petr.This would make meA Cæsar above Cæsar.Ner.In the provinceOf imperial æsthetics.Servt. to Brit.Pardon, your highness,I will add water to it: ’tis yet unmixed.[They pour in the poison.Petr.’Twill be a tyranny. For look, I hold1640Man’s stomach is not to be trifled with.Not only should your table give delightEven to the ravishment of every palate,But since the end and final cause of foodIs not to breed diseases in the flesh,Nor heat the spirits more than they can bear,But rather to build up and comfort health,I’d order first that there be served at tableNothing but what is wholesome.Br.(after drinking nubile Petr. speaks). Ah![Falls back.Oct.The wine, the wine!Br.Ah![Dies.Oct.He is dead. O dead! O dead!1650Lucan, Petronius and Paris go to Britannicus.Domitia follows.—All rising.Agr.What is this?Ner.He hath a fit.Petr.He doth not breathe.Oct.(has come round to front). Alas, alas! my brother; he is dead.Ner.Nay, sit you down; look not aghast, I say.He hath the falling sickness, and will oftFaint on a sudden, as ye see. He liesAn hour as dead, and then awakes againWith nought amiss. Best take him out in quiet.(To servants.) Carry him from the room.Luc.Lift you his feet, Petronius.We two will take him.Ner.Let him be, I say.1660His servants will attend him. Return to table:We cannot spare you.Par.(to Oct.)Honoured lady, be hopeful:For hath your noble brother e’er been takenLike this, he may recover.Oct.(to Par.)Never—Never! O never! he is dead! I knew it![Going.Ner.(to Oct.) Heh, sit you down. What could you do, I pray?He will come round.Oct.Oh! I will follow him.[Exit with servants who are carrying Brit.Petr.(to Par.) How happened it?Par.(to Petr.)He drank a draught of wineFresh mixed, and then fell back just as you saw.What think you?Petr.(to Par.) Think you ’twas aught?1670Par.(to Luc.)What think you?Luc.Impossible.Dom.(aside). He is poisoned. Yet my sisterWas nothing privy to it. She is pale.Ner.Come, sit you down, aunt: come, Petronius,Lucan, be seated. Let not the horrid sightUnwhet your appetites.Petr.(to Luc.)That was no fit.[To Par.He is dead. What if ’twere poison? Where’s the drink?Par.’Twas hurried out.Luc.O God!Ner.(to servts.) Serve out the wine.We all must need a bumper; ’tis most natural.I have known the mere revulsion to provoke1680In a strong man a seizure similarTo that which frighted him.Par.(aside). ’Twould not amaze me,Had he such drink to cheer him.[All refuse drink.Pop.(to Nero).I will not drink.Ner.From my cup.Pop.Well, from thine.[Drinks.Luc.(aside).He is self-betrayed.Ner.Where were we?Petr.At the point where Cæsar made meArbiter of his table. I shall askTo inaugurate my office.Ner.Do so, Petronius.Petr.Then know you are all dismissed. Let all go home,And for the prince’s safety offer up[All rise.What vows ye may unto the gods. Myself,I set the example, and go first. Come, Lucan.[Going.Ner.Eh! eh! yet thus ’tis best. Good night, Petronius,1691Thou hast spoken well; may the gods hear thy prayers.I wish you all good night.In disorder of going curtain falls.

ACT · IIISCENE · 1The same. SENECA.

The same. SENECA.

SENECA.

Burruswas right. The more I think of it,The time has come that one or both must go;So the more dangerous first, then are we quit1013At once of all our mischief and disgrace.’Tis past belief that she who plunged in crimeTo enthrone her son should now plot to dethrone him.There is no bridle for a wicked woman.Men may despise the venerable pathOf virtue, and refuse the wholesome lawsOf plain philosophy, but still they lean1020Towards reason, even in their wickedness.There’s an accountable consistencyFound in their actions; but if once a womanThrow off, as men soon do, the first restraintsOf credulous childhood; if her nature lackTenderness, modesty, and that respectTo self which sees in self a thing to guardFrom passion and caprice, and in the pleasureOf fitness finds a law,—if she lack thatOr overpass it,—there’s no further bound:1030All things are mixed together; virtue, crime,Wisdom and folly. For they have a spiritOf infinite wrong genius. Rule, I say,Such women if you can; rule them with iron.

Burruswas right. The more I think of it,

The time has come that one or both must go;

So the more dangerous first, then are we quit

At once of all our mischief and disgrace.

’Tis past belief that she who plunged in crime

To enthrone her son should now plot to dethrone him.

There is no bridle for a wicked woman.

Men may despise the venerable path

Of virtue, and refuse the wholesome laws

Of plain philosophy, but still they lean

Towards reason, even in their wickedness.

There’s an accountable consistency

Found in their actions; but if once a woman

Throw off, as men soon do, the first restraints

Of credulous childhood; if her nature lack

Tenderness, modesty, and that respect

To self which sees in self a thing to guard

From passion and caprice, and in the pleasure

Of fitness finds a law,—if she lack that

Or overpass it,—there’s no further bound:

All things are mixed together; virtue, crime,

Wisdom and folly. For they have a spirit

Of infinite wrong genius. Rule, I say,

Such women if you can; rule them with iron.

Enter Nero.

NERO.

Good-morrow, Seneca. Thou comest in time;I need thy counsel.

Good-morrow, Seneca. Thou comest in time;

I need thy counsel.

Sen.I am here to give it.

Ner.Then tell me: Where I have been lately threatened,Am I in danger? I will use thy judgment.Is’t needful for my safety to removeBritannicus?

Ner.Then tell me: Where I have been lately threatened,

Am I in danger? I will use thy judgment.

Is’t needful for my safety to remove

Britannicus?

Sen.I have well considered all.1040You must dismiss your mother.

Sen.I have well considered all.

You must dismiss your mother.

Ner.Not so, Seneca.She now resigns all power and sign of empire,And is content to live in quiet, retiredWith few attendants and contracted state.

Ner.Not so, Seneca.

She now resigns all power and sign of empire,

And is content to live in quiet, retired

With few attendants and contracted state.

Sen.She offered terms?

Ner.See, since she now concedesAll reasonable claims, my duty towards herPatches our quarrel.

Ner.See, since she now concedes

All reasonable claims, my duty towards her

Patches our quarrel.

Sen.Whence this newborn trust?

Ner.She must remain. What of Britannicus?

Sen.He need not trouble you.

Ner.So said my mother.I had thought differently, and even had made1050Full preparation for his going hence.Would’st thou too bid me think there is no danger?

Ner.So said my mother.

I had thought differently, and even had made

Full preparation for his going hence.

Would’st thou too bid me think there is no danger?

Sen.None, if your mother goes.

Ner.But nay, she stays.

Sen.That makes him dangerous.

Ner.Thy reason, Seneca?

Sen.I well can guess, Nero, your mother’s veinWith you in private: but ’twould much divertYour inclination from it, could you knowHer latest way with me.

Sen.I well can guess, Nero, your mother’s vein

With you in private: but ’twould much divert

Your inclination from it, could you know

Her latest way with me.

Ner.What hath she said?

Sen.Will you now think she hath urged Burrus and meTo set our honoured oaths and firm allegiance1060To you aside, as being unjustly sworn;To undo all she has done, and bring BritannicusBack to the people as Rome’s rightful heir?

Sen.Will you now think she hath urged Burrus and me

To set our honoured oaths and firm allegiance

To you aside, as being unjustly sworn;

To undo all she has done, and bring Britannicus

Back to the people as Rome’s rightful heir?

Ner.I knew this, Seneca; and if ’twere meant,Where lies the danger?

Ner.I knew this, Seneca; and if ’twere meant,

Where lies the danger?

Sen.True; but then she vowsPlainly that, rather than resign her power,She will make known her crimes, nor spare herself,If in the implication of her ruinShe may involve us too. Know you of that?

Sen.True; but then she vows

Plainly that, rather than resign her power,

She will make known her crimes, nor spare herself,

If in the implication of her ruin

She may involve us too. Know you of that?

Ner.She could not mean it.

Sen.Certainly ’twas in passion1070Spoken, and fury: but ’tis such a thingAs might be done in passion.

Sen.Certainly ’twas in passion

Spoken, and fury: but ’tis such a thing

As might be done in passion.

Ner.And what says Burrus?

Sen.He too would urge, as I, the Augusta’s exile.

Ner.Yet must she stay.

Sen.Nay, Nero, she must go.

Ner.I bade thee, Seneca, to counsel me:Call’st thou this counsel? ’Tis in the exigenceOf such affairs that their necessityPrecludes the true decision: this thou’st taught me:And that the man of counsel is but heWho handles best the circumstance, most gentlyResolves the knot, not cuts it. In this difficulty1081Is there no course?

Ner.I bade thee, Seneca, to counsel me:

Call’st thou this counsel? ’Tis in the exigence

Of such affairs that their necessity

Precludes the true decision: this thou’st taught me:

And that the man of counsel is but he

Who handles best the circumstance, most gently

Resolves the knot, not cuts it. In this difficulty

Is there no course?

Sen.I go not back from this;If both remain there’s none.

Sen.I go not back from this;

If both remain there’s none.

Ner.Is my life threatened?

Sen.Ay.

Ner.Then Britannicus must go, and shall go,As first I purposed.

Ner.Then Britannicus must go, and shall go,

As first I purposed.

Sen.Whither will you send him?

Ner.Far out of hearing of his claim. ’Tis notA trifling matter.

Ner.Far out of hearing of his claim. ’Tis not

A trifling matter.

Sen.See now to the other extremeHow you o’erleap the mean from wrong to wrong!

Sen.See now to the other extreme

How you o’erleap the mean from wrong to wrong!

Ner.Such wrongs the title of my power condones.Shall I at the outset of a world-wide policy1090Stick at a household scruple, and for fearTo do a private wrong forfeit the powerWhich makes me Cæsar? See my glory tripAt a little ill because I will not levelMy safety with the welfare of the world?

Ner.Such wrongs the title of my power condones.

Shall I at the outset of a world-wide policy

Stick at a household scruple, and for fear

To do a private wrong forfeit the power

Which makes me Cæsar? See my glory trip

At a little ill because I will not level

My safety with the welfare of the world?

Sen.But what you must not, that you cannot do.

Ner.Rather what Cæsar must do, that he may.Rome understands not empire yet: we learnedSomething of Herod.

Ner.Rather what Cæsar must do, that he may.

Rome understands not empire yet: we learned

Something of Herod.

Sen.O the injustice, Nero!The wrong! How! Will you sooner spill a life1100So innocent, your creditor in kindness,Than do disgrace to another, one so guiltyAs to deserve, sinking all exigency,The fearful penalty you now misplace?Think twice.

Sen.O the injustice, Nero!

The wrong! How! Will you sooner spill a life

So innocent, your creditor in kindness,

Than do disgrace to another, one so guilty

As to deserve, sinking all exigency,

The fearful penalty you now misplace?

Think twice.

Ner.Why, if I think of it again,Is not thy error fourfold more than mine?This need is granted to all tyrannies,To slay pretenders, ay, and most of allThose of the family: but for a mother,The very Persian or the unrivalled Jew1110Would shrink from her dishonour.

Ner.Why, if I think of it again,

Is not thy error fourfold more than mine?

This need is granted to all tyrannies,

To slay pretenders, ay, and most of all

Those of the family: but for a mother,

The very Persian or the unrivalled Jew

Would shrink from her dishonour.

Sen.(aside). What to say?Being out of kinship ’twere the lesser blot—Yet there’s his innocence. NecessityCannot suborn morality so farAs such confusion,—nor the alternativeMay yet be shunned,—and when the best is wrong ...

Sen.(aside). What to say?

Being out of kinship ’twere the lesser blot—

Yet there’s his innocence. Necessity

Cannot suborn morality so far

As such confusion,—nor the alternative

May yet be shunned,—and when the best is wrong ...

Ner.What thinkest thou?

Sen.Wait: it shall be my officeTo find some better means.

Sen.Wait: it shall be my office

To find some better means.

Ner.’Twill be thine officeTo show in such a speech as I may makeAfter his death, that, howsoe’er he died,—Which you shall know no more than shall my hearers,—1121’Twas for the general good.

Ner.’Twill be thine office

To show in such a speech as I may make

After his death, that, howsoe’er he died,—

Which you shall know no more than shall my hearers,—

’Twas for the general good.

Sen.Be counselled, Nero.This is not my advice.

Sen.Be counselled, Nero.

This is not my advice.

Ner.Thou offerest noneWhich can be taken.

Ner.Thou offerest none

Which can be taken.

Sen.See, I have brought your speechTouching the Parthian war.

Sen.See, I have brought your speech

Touching the Parthian war.

Ner.’Tis long.

Sen.The matterBeing very weighty, ’twill be looked for from youTo say thus much: but if it seem too long,’Tis so composed that with these brackets here,Skipped as you list, the speech is any length.

Sen.The matter

Being very weighty, ’twill be looked for from you

To say thus much: but if it seem too long,

’Tis so composed that with these brackets here,

Skipped as you list, the speech is any length.

Ner.I thank thee. I shall need that other speech.

1130Sen.I pray you may not need it. My adviceIs wait.

Sen.I pray you may not need it. My advice

Is wait.

Ner.Is it? Stay—Seneca, dost thou thinkMy mother was in earnest when she urgedTreason on thee and Burrus? And dost thou thinkShe fooled me in saying that she made proposalTo Burrus but to sound his honesty?

Ner.Is it? Stay—Seneca, dost thou think

My mother was in earnest when she urged

Treason on thee and Burrus? And dost thou think

She fooled me in saying that she made proposal

To Burrus but to sound his honesty?

Sen.Eh! with that tale she took you?

Ner.Is’t not true?

Sen.That true!

Ner.She was in earnest though in passion?Answer me.

Ner.She was in earnest though in passion?

Answer me.

Sen.Ay, she was.

Ner.I pray thee leave me.I shall not wait.[Exit Seneca.1140I stand alone. Such officers as shareThe functions of tyrannic governmentCannot be looked to for a policyOf personal security; they lackThe motive that abates the fear of crime.Britannicus must go, and ’tis my handMust aim his death. I have a medicineWhich he must drink for me, to save my life.To-night shall do it. But for my other enemy,My mother, who with such dissimulation1150Won me, spite of foreknowledge of her deeds,And judgment of her purpose—Ha! indeed;Seneca’s laughing-stock! Now, what I doWill much surprise her. If it kill her hopeAnd prove my temper towards her, ’twill be well.[Exit.

Ner.I pray thee leave me.

I shall not wait.[Exit Seneca.

I stand alone. Such officers as share

The functions of tyrannic government

Cannot be looked to for a policy

Of personal security; they lack

The motive that abates the fear of crime.

Britannicus must go, and ’tis my hand

Must aim his death. I have a medicine

Which he must drink for me, to save my life.

To-night shall do it. But for my other enemy,

My mother, who with such dissimulation

Won me, spite of foreknowledge of her deeds,

And judgment of her purpose—Ha! indeed;

Seneca’s laughing-stock! Now, what I do

Will much surprise her. If it kill her hope

And prove my temper towards her, ’twill be well.

[Exit.

SCENE · 2Room in Domitia’s house. Enter DOMITIA and PARIS.

Room in Domitia’s house. Enter DOMITIA and PARIS.

DOMITIA.

Come hither, Paris!Thou art my freedman.

Come hither, Paris!

Thou art my freedman.

PARIS.

Ay, madam.

Dom.HithertoThou hast served me well.

Dom.Hitherto

Thou hast served me well.

Par.Ay, madam.

Dom.Would’st thou nowRetrieve thy purchase money?

Dom.Would’st thou now

Retrieve thy purchase money?

Par.Dost thou sayThou wilt restore me that for any serviceI can perform?

Par.Dost thou say

Thou wilt restore me that for any service

I can perform?

Dom.I do.

Par.But name the deed.1160

Dom.Dost thou remember Crispus Passienus?

Par.Could I forget thy honoured husband, madam,That was my master?

Par.Could I forget thy honoured husband, madam,

That was my master?

Dom.Paris, thou hast a wife,And thy wife hath a sister ..

Dom.Paris, thou hast a wife,

And thy wife hath a sister ..

Par.Ay.

Dom.How think’st thouThy wife would love her sister, if that sisterSupplanted her with thee, sowed seeds of hate,Contrived divorce, and when thou wert divorcedShould marry thee herself?

Dom.How think’st thou

Thy wife would love her sister, if that sister

Supplanted her with thee, sowed seeds of hate,

Contrived divorce, and when thou wert divorced

Should marry thee herself?

Par.Madam, I knowThy wrong, and share thy hate.

Par.Madam, I know

Thy wrong, and share thy hate.

Dom.That was not all.

Par.Not all?

1170Dom.Nay, listen, Paris: if I forgetMy kinship in my hatred, I have cause.I loved him, and have now no thought in lifeBut to avenge his murder.

Dom.Nay, listen, Paris: if I forget

My kinship in my hatred, I have cause.

I loved him, and have now no thought in life

But to avenge his murder.

Par.Why! can’st thou think?...

Dom.Think! do I think? I cannot speak of it.If ’tis suspicion, be it so—and yet ...Well, thou hast seen my heart—even were my sisterKind I should not forgive: but seeing she worksAgainst me still to drive me from the court,I put my strength with Cæsar, to disbarrass1180The palace of this plague. Say wilt thou aid me?

Dom.Think! do I think? I cannot speak of it.

If ’tis suspicion, be it so—and yet ...

Well, thou hast seen my heart—even were my sister

Kind I should not forgive: but seeing she works

Against me still to drive me from the court,

I put my strength with Cæsar, to disbarrass

The palace of this plague. Say wilt thou aid me?

Par.The favour Cæsar shows me binds me, lady,To have no thought but his; and if his motherMisses his love, ’tis not made up by mine.

Par.The favour Cæsar shows me binds me, lady,

To have no thought but his; and if his mother

Misses his love, ’tis not made up by mine.

Dom.I’d have thee on my side whate’er I do.I have now contrived a scheme which hangs on theeTo bring it home.

Dom.I’d have thee on my side whate’er I do.

I have now contrived a scheme which hangs on thee

To bring it home.

Par.I will do anythingThat will not touch my life.

Par.I will do anything

That will not touch my life.

Dom.She is hard to catch.Late, when she plotted with Britannicus,Though ’twas as clear as day, when brought to questionShe quite out-faced us all.

Dom.She is hard to catch.

Late, when she plotted with Britannicus,

Though ’twas as clear as day, when brought to question

She quite out-faced us all.

Enter Servant.

SERVANT.

Madam, Seleucus1190The astrologer would speak with you.

Madam, Seleucus1190

The astrologer would speak with you.

Dom.Admit him.[Exit Servt.Paris, I’ll tell thee later of my plans.Meanwhile keep close with Nero: let me hearAught he lets fall that might advance our matter:Seleucus’ visit is a part of it;I’ll speak with him alone.

Dom.Admit him.[Exit Servt.

Paris, I’ll tell thee later of my plans.

Meanwhile keep close with Nero: let me hear

Aught he lets fall that might advance our matter:

Seleucus’ visit is a part of it;

I’ll speak with him alone.

Par.Madam, I go.[Exit.

Enter Seleucus.

Dom.How now, Seleucus? Foiled!

SELEUCUS.

I warned you, lady,How impotent and vain an arm hath truthUnhelped by art.

I warned you, lady,

How impotent and vain an arm hath truth

Unhelped by art.

Dom.Thou did’st but well, and now1200I shall lean more on thee. Hast thou persuadedPoppæa of her fortune?

Dom.Thou did’st but well, and now

I shall lean more on thee. Hast thou persuaded

Poppæa of her fortune?

Sel.Ay, my lady,I promised her two Cæsars.

Sel.Ay, my lady,

I promised her two Cæsars.

Dom.Two! how two?

Sel.A secret that of art; our divinationHath many such. The gods are favourable.

Sel.A secret that of art; our divination

Hath many such. The gods are favourable.

Dom.Talk not to me of gods. One was enough;Yet the other matters not. Two Cæsars indeed!Most favourable gods!—See, here I give youTwo hundred sesterces: but for that sumRequire another service.

Dom.Talk not to me of gods. One was enough;

Yet the other matters not. Two Cæsars indeed!

Most favourable gods!—See, here I give you

Two hundred sesterces: but for that sum

Require another service.

Sel.I thank you, madam.

Dom.Locusta hath been seen with Nero.

Sel.Ah,1210How knew you that?

Sel.Ah,1210

How knew you that?

Dom.Attend to what I say.I fear ’tis for Britannicus: the Empress,Ridding herself, cannot have quitted him.If ’tis his death is aimed at—and ’tis for theeTo probe and reach the truth—then if ’tis possibleThou must prevent it. Go, give him a message,He must not sup with Cæsar if he is bid.Find you the probabilities, and layThe warning where is need.

Dom.Attend to what I say.

I fear ’tis for Britannicus: the Empress,

Ridding herself, cannot have quitted him.

If ’tis his death is aimed at—and ’tis for thee

To probe and reach the truth—then if ’tis possible

Thou must prevent it. Go, give him a message,

He must not sup with Cæsar if he is bid.

Find you the probabilities, and lay

The warning where is need.

Sel.’Twere a good office, lady.

Dom.Go quickly then. If thou do well in this,1221I will reward thee well.

Dom.Go quickly then. If thou do well in this,

I will reward thee well.

Sel.I will deserve it.[Exeunt.SCENE · 3The room in Otho’s house. Enter POPPÆA and MAID.MAID.Madam, the litter waits.POPPÆA.Give me my mirror, miss.Why, see how slovenly thou’st done my hair;’Tis out already.Maid.With your pardon, madam,’Tis very well. Nay, ’tis as firm as a rock.You look your best to-night.Pop.Where is the flowerI gave thee?Maid.Here, my lady.Pop.Put it in.There, there. Ay, that will do. Now where’s mycloak?[Exit Maid.Enter Otho.OTHO.So then you are going?Pop.Yes, I go alone,1230Since you will not come with me.Oth.You are always freeTo have your way; but when your wish is mine,It is twice yours. This time you know ’tis not:And were I used to set constraint upon you,Could it be said Otho e’er crossed his wifeWith a command, it should be now: I’d sayThis I forbid.Pop.And why?Oth.I entreat you, dearest.Pop.I am pledged to go.Oth.Go not.Pop.There’s now no choice.Oth.A light excuse would serve: a sudden sickness,A cold, a headache. Do not go.Pop.Why, look!1240If you are not jealous, Otho! jealous, jealous.You see not straight.Oth.I see you smile on Cæsar.Pop.And think you, then, I must have turned my loveWhere I have smiled? that I would play you falseFor the pleasure of it?Oth.Why then sup with Cæsar?Pop.A trifle hangs upon him I would wear,—The world.Oth.So dazzled by the imperial splendour!Think: to be Cæsar’s mistress for a yearIs not to rule the world.Pop.I will be Cæsar’s wife.Oth.Ah! look you then so high?1250Pop.Who shall be called my rival?Oth.Cæsar’s wife.Pop.She hinders not.Oth.Oh, thou would’st never dare it,Did’st thou not love him.Pop.What should I not dare?Oth.Hast thou considered well the ambiguous styleThou goest to take, and yet determined?Pop.Ay.Oth.’Tis death, ’tis death. I speak now but for thee:Not for myself. The cup Octavia drinksTo quit thy place thou too wilt come to taste.Pop.That is my risk. The sport were tame without it:1260The game can boast a sting.Oth.Weigh well the danger:Think of it thus; to live on a capriceWhose jealousy is death; where for the reasonOne seems to love thee will be ten to hate thee;Where not to be beforehand with a treacheryIs to be victim.Pop.I can steer my way.Oth.And for this desperate venture wilt cast offMy love, our love?Pop.What is love?Oth.Art thou Poppæa?Wer’t any else but thou that questioned thus,My answer then were ready: I should say1270Ask of Poppæa, ’tis the thing she knows;Ask Otho’s wife what love is, she can tell.And thou to ask! as if ’twere some strange matterWide of experience, and to ask of meWho won thee for my teacher!Pop.’Tis true the impeachmentI make of love is that he hath exhaustedHis treasure rather than denied us aught.Oth.Exhausted love! how mean you?Pop.See! I am madeOf other stuff and passions besides love.You cannot wish that all my life should move1280Pent in this narrow circle, day by dayKeeping the pretty game up which I learnedWhen I was green: that I should ne’er do elseThan this one thing, and that so constantlyThat even the habit and the practice of itAre scarce employment; that I should grow grey,And see the wide and seasonable fieldOf life’s exertion and excitement fallowWith this one weed of love?Oth.A weed, you say!Pop.I have other motions in me. I’ve an itch1290Men call ambition, and I see a prizeLooks worth the having.Oth.’Tis not worth the having.Pop.Why, what were I to thee, could’st thou be Cæsar?Oth.Even all thou art; I have no itch to ruleMerely to see that game played out, and cryAt the end—what is ambition?Pop.It hath no end.Oth.’Tis plain love hath an end.Pop.Nay, as I love thee,I still shall love thee. Only, Otho ....Oth.What?Pop.I thought your eye was open to perceiveThe grandeur of my scheme.Oth.Thou wert mistaken.Pop.Upon what falls to-night, let us decide.1300I have no secrets from you: if I prosper,Desert me if you will, but blame me not:For dared I combat Cæsar’s inclinationThere were as much to lose. The thing I doWill be your safety.Oth.Rather would I die,Ay, rather far that thou should’st die than doThis baseness willingly.Pop.Nay, speak not so.I shall do nothing base.Oth.Thou must succeed.Only before thou goest I’ll kiss thee once.[Kisses Pop.1310Otho’s last kiss. Farewell.Pop.Good night. I go.Lesbia, my cloak! I shall have news ere morn.[Exit.Oth.Gone! With a graceAs firm, as pleasant, gay and self-possessedAs that with which she hath come a thousand timesTo meet me, kiss me, and call me hers, she goesTo change her husband .. gone! and not a signTo show that leaving me was losing aught!Fool that I was! To the soul I knew her vain,Self-seeking, light, petulant at the breath1320Of contradiction, and yet I trusted. What,Asks she, is love. Ay, what? I love my dog;He is devoted beyond reason, pitifulIn his dependence; he will scarce reproach meWith some short wondering sorrow, if I strike him—I love my horse; he bears me willingly,Answering spiritedly; with all his strengthGenerous and gentle. But woman, if man love her,—Seeing she is less devoted than the hound,Less noble than the horse,—’tis that we deem,1330That being human she can gauge the worthOf our intensity, and in kind somewhatRepay it: ’tis a delusion; spite of shew,She hath not in her heart that which her eyesFondly declare. There is no passion possibleWhich beauty can interpret or soft speechExpress, which was not mine; ay, by that titleO’er and o’er; yet I think no dog in RomeWould leave the meanest slave that fed him once,As hath this woman left the man that loved her.[Knocking.Enter Lucan and Petronius.LUCAN.Ha! here he is. We have come to fetch you, Otho.Oth.I do not go to-night.1341PETRONIUS.Not go! What is’t, man?—ill?Oth.My wife has gone, therefore I do not go:—You see the matter, maybe have foreseen it;I was too blind. Spare me your condolence;I do not wish even sympathy. You knowI loved her, but ’tis over. Let me give youSuch knowledge as I wish my friends to have,Else might they mistake somewhat. See! she is gone1350To-night against my wish: ’tis nothing more:But this will lead to much. I let my house;Sell you my wine, Petronius, if you wish it,And take—I shall not want for interest—The Lusitanian proconsulate.Luc.You go from Rome?Oth.I do.Petr.Break not with Cæsar.Oth.I’ll take employment.Petr.Jove! I think you’re wise,Otho; you’re wise. I’ve half a mind myselfTo give my friends the slip. But as it is,Well..come, I’ll take the wine; what is your price?1360Oth.The price I gave.Petr.A bargain. I shall send for it.Luc.(to Otho). Otho, I will not go. Although thy wrongCannot be stayed, yet would I rather dieThan sit and smile on it.Oth.I thank thee, Lucan.I’d ask thee rather look upon the matterAs on a thing of course: I think it is.Go, take no note of it.Luc.If ’tis thy wish.Oth.It is. Good night.Luc. and Petr.Good night.[Exeunt.SCENE · 4A room in the Palace. Enter AGRIPPINA.AGRIPPINA.Thus must it be then. I must be cast out,Turned from the palace, lodged in a private house,1370Retired, reduced, forgotten, like any relicOf barbarous royalty, caged out of reachOf good or ill; my state just so much showAs has no meaning. Now may some god of mischiefDare set me in the roll of puny spirits.Ah!—Hath this my seal, seemeth it? O may my foesBe fooled so far to think that guile will stayFirst in catastrophe. Nay, if I crouch,’Tis but to plant a foot whence I may boundWith braver spring.—I am clear; the right’s my hope.1380Right against blood hath still been honourable.Men love the name of Brutus. The first BrutusSlew his own son; the last his Cæsar. Ha!’Tis madness; nay, that’s not my thought, not that.’Twould fright the world that there should be a womanWho could slay Cæsar and son in one. Nay, nay,That lies beyond all fate. Yet, short of that,—O blood, thou sacrament and bond of nature,Look to the strain: summon thy best allies,Thy yearnings and thy shudderings, thy terrorsAnd dreams of dread; marshal the myriad fingers1391Of scorn and hate: else, O thy rottennessWill out. Indeed I think thou’rt a weak thing,Bred of opinion; when I would have trusted thee,Hath not that other rivet of thy chainSnapped at the mutual end? Thy boasted anchorDrags on the bottom, and my ship drifts onTo the rocks, to the rocks: missing that hold, the senseIs dizzy with madness; ay, and whither I goIs hidden; nor aught I know, save that the future,1400Whate’er it be, I shall do much to make.Enter Britannicus.Ah! ah! ’tis thee.Speak softly, for these walls have ears.BRITANNICUS.Thou thinkestThat Cæsar watches me.Agr.To-day thy spiesAre mine, but must not hear.Br.Hast thou seen Burrus?Agr.He is thine enemy: no hope from him.Br.I would not have this spoken of as my hope.Agr.True, boy. I mentioned not thy name, and Nero,Being now persuaded thou art innocent,Forgives thee. Let the risk I ran for thee1410Be earnest of more good.Br.I thank thee for it.Agr.’Tis nothing, this. Thou yet shalt reign.Br.I pray theeDraw me not into thy deep-plotted schemesThat rush on guilt. If I have hope or wish,’Tis but to live till the divorce be writ’Twixt Cæsar and my sister: that is not longTo wait; and then her exile, which must follow,If I may share, I think some days of peaceMay be in store for both. That is my hope,Not Rome, nor empire, but some tranquil spot1420Where innocence may dwell, and be allowedTo be its own protection.Agr.Are you that fool?Br.I would none doubted it.Agr.Can it be possibleThat thou, who in thy veins hast the best bloodOf Rome, should’st own so beggarly a spirit,And being the heir of all the world should’st wishOnly to hide thy claim, so thou may’st liveThe life which broken-hearted slaves, and menDiseased and aged scarce prize?Br.I hear, I hear,And am not shamed.Agr.Nay, then I have more to say.Br.I too might say somewhat. Is it not strange,1431Thou being a lady, should’st possess a heartSo fond of wrong, and blood, and wrathful deeds?Agr.Ah, ah! Thou thinkest that thou know’st me rightly,And yet would’st dare to taunt me, and to thwartMy stablished purpose? Child, I say, rememberThe deeds thou castest in my teeth, and thinkWhether it were not much better now at lastTo side with me, and take the help I proffer.I have sworn to set thee on the throne; think twiceEre thou oppose my will.Br.Did’st thou not say1440Thou had’st persuaded Nero of my innocence?Agr.Say I was wrong.Br.Nay, thou wert right in that,Wrong now returning on disclaimed ambition.Agr.Art thou content to see thyself deposed,Thy sister thus dishonoured ....Br.Say no more.Agr.Consider!Br.Nay, I’ll not consider.Agr.NowThis once again I bid thee, child, consider.Doubt not my power.Br.No more. I will not join thee.Agr.Then hear me, child. Whether thou join or not,1450Whether thou wilt be Cæsar, or refusest,Thou shalt be Cæsar. If thou wilt not plot,It shall be plotted for thee: in my handsI hold thy life, and guard it but for this,To make thee Cæsar. Ay, and if thou shrinkestWhen the day comes, I’ll have a doll made like thee;My men shall carry it about, and style itBritannicus, and shout to it as to Cæsar.I say thou shalt be Cæsar, think it o’er.Dare not refuse me: ’tis not yet too late;1460To-morrow I will speak with thee again.Now to thy better thought.[Exit.Br.O murderess!And for this last turn must I thank my folly,That partly trusted her. Now would to heaven,If live I must, that I might change my lotWith any man soe’er, though he be chosenAnd picked for misery. Surely there’s noneIn all the empire can show cause to standAnd weigh his woe with mine. Find me the man,If such there be, that hath an only sister1470’Spoused to a murderer and adulterer,Who hates her virtue, since it shames pretextTo cast her off: or, if such man be found,Hath he for mother one that slew his father,And threats him with like death? or if all thisBe matched in one, hath he no remedy?Is his speech treason? Is his silence treason?Is he quite friendless, helpless?Forbidden to budge a foot from the dread focusOf crime and anguish? ’Mongst his lesser wrongsHath he this brag, that he hath been robbed, as I,1481Of the empire of the world? O happy hinds,Who toil under clear skies, and for complaintDiscuss long hours, low wages, meagre food,Hard beds and scanty covering: ye who trailA pike in German swamps, or shield your headsOn Asian sands, I’d welcome all your griefsSo I might taste the common nameless joysWhich ye light-heartedly so lightly prize,And know not what a text for happinessLies in a thoughtless laugh: what long, impassable,1491Unmeasured gulfs of joy sunder it offFrom my heart-stifling woe.Enter Octavia.Thou art welcome, sister.OCTAVIA.Brother, a request you must grant.Br.Anything,Dearest, to thee.Oct.Sup not to-night with Cæsar.Br.I must. Yet what’s thy reason? Thou art movedStrangely beyond the matter.Oct.Read this paper.Br.(reads).Britannicus, sup not to-day with Cæsar.How came you by it?Oct.’Tis from Fulvia,The maid that loves Seleucus; whence ’tis his.Br.Most like; I know the turbaned mountebank1500Keeps an old kindness for me. Yet nay, nay—If this should now be found—nay, he’s too shrewdTo put himself in writing.Oct.He might dareWith Fulvia.Br.Nay. I cannot think ’tis his.And were it, what’s his credit? I do not trustThese fellows far. They trade in mystery,And love to thicken water,—and if there beA plot to poison me, to-day’s occasionOffers no easier vantage than to-morrow’s.My safety lies elsewhere.Oct.O do not go.1510Br.Fear not, Octavia, I am very careful,And eat but sparingly of any dish,Nor aught but what goes round. To stay awayMight show suspicion, and could serve no end.Oct.Brother, be warned, go not to-night;to-morrowWe may learn more. I beg ...Br.Nay, urge me not,Since with this warning I am doubly safe.Oct.Oh, I dread Nero’s anger; ’tis most certainThat ill will come of it.Br.Nay, fear him not.1519Let us go sup. I will use all precaution,Thou may’st be sure, since for thy sake I do it:And while thou livest I shall have both reasonAnd wish to live. Have care, too, for thyself;I think thy peril is no less than mine.[Exeunt.SCENE · 5Supper-room in the Palace. All are reclined at two tables, thus:Agrippina,Nero,Poppæa.A gentm.,Octavia,A lady.Tigellinus,A gentm.Britannicus,Paris.A lady,Domitia.Petronius,Lucan.Waiters, tasters, etc. Some are talking.NERO.I will propose a question to the table:Which of the arts is greatest? Lucan, these sausagesAre something new: try them.POPPÆA.You question, Cæsar,Which of the arts is greatest? I would answerThe one which Cæsar honours.TIGELLINUS.But if CæsarShould honour more than one?PETRONIUS.The sausages1529Are good enough. As for the arts, here’s LucanCan speak for poetry.Ner.If any manCould prove one art beyond contention first,I would reward him excellently. With meTo know the best and follow it are one:Success being easy in all, my difficultyLies in distraction: show me then the best,I’ll perfect that.Pop.What! Cæsar give up singing?Ner.For better things.Tig.Which be the arts?Petr.(to servants).Here, vermin,This wine’s half-way to vinegar.Ner.Who will name1540The arts? There’s sculpture, painting, poetry,Singing ..PARIS.And acting.Ner.Well, what more?Tig.Horse-racing.Pop.(across). Ruling I think’s an art.AGRIPPINA(across).And making love.Ner.’Tis of the fine arts we would speak.(To servants) Ho! fellows,Pour out the wine! Ah, here’s a lovely mullet.Has this been tasted?TASTER.Ay, Cæsar. ’Tis stuffed with truffles.Ner. A mullet stuffed with truffles. Now, Poppæa,Will not this please?Pop.I thank you.—(aside) Prithee, bidLucan to speak for poetry.BRITANNICUS(to servant).Nay, the mullet.Ner.Lucan, what say you for your art?LUCAN.I claim1550The first place for it, and I say ’tis provedNobler than any plastic art in this;It needs not tools nor gross material,And hath twin doors to the mind, both eye and ear.Nay, even of drama Aristotle held,Though a good play must act well, that ’tis perfectWithout the stage: which shows that poetryStains not her excellence by being kindTo those encumbrances, which, in my judgment,Are pushed to fetter fancy.—Then hath our art1560Such strong and universal masteryO’er heart and mind, that here ’tis only musicCompetes, and she is second far in scope,Directness, and distinction.Ner.You think that?Luc.Ay, Cæsar.Ner.Do you! you who have ever beenMore gracious to my voice than to my pen!Am I a better singer then than poet,Think you?Luc.Nay, Cæsar; but ....Ner.Ha! then you are envious.You would not have me write because, forsooth,You write yourself. Now, by the god, I swear1570Thou shalt not publish nor recite a verseWithin my empire till I give thee leave.One man to keep the muses to himself!Monstrous!Pop.And serve him right.Luc.(aside). Monstrous indeed!Ner.(to servants). Heat me some wine.Come, lords, ye drink not. Eh! what have we here?Servant.Cherubim, Cæsar.Ner.What is Cherubim?Petr.The gods of the Jews.Ner.Hoo! let us eat their gods.They are much like pheasants.Servt.’Tis a pheasant, Cæsar,And stuffed with woodcock.Petr.Cæsar, there’s one artHas not been mentioned; though I think at table1581It should not be passed o’er.Ner.What art is that?Petr.I shall contend it is the first of all.Ner.Name it.Petr.It hath no name. It scarce exists.I think the goddess never walked the earth.Par.Ranks she with poetry?Petr.I avouch above.Par.Cæsar, if this be proved, thou must rescindThy poet’s sentence.Ner.Let him prove it first.Petr.I see in other arts some wit or fancyExtrinsical to nature. I can find1590No ground of need in any, save maybeIn architecture,—which ranks not so wellAs to be mentioned by you.—Now, if IShow you an art whose matter every dayIs life’s necessity, which gives more scopeTo skill than any other, which delightsAmong the senses one which the other artsWholly neglect, would you not say this artHath the first claim? See, I could live withoutThe joys of harmony, colour, or form,1600But without this it were impossibleTo outlast the week.Par.Oh! Cookery.Several.Cookery, cookery!Petr.There’s the mistake I gird at. None of youBut thinks this art I speak of, which includesPleasures of entertainment, ease and elegance,The mind’s best recreation, the satisfactionOf the body’s nearest needs, the preservationOf health, and with all this, the gratifyingOf that one sense, which above all the sensesIs subtle, difficult, discerning, ticklish,1610And most importunate,—that this great artIs a cook’s province.Ner.True, Petronius, true;There’s room for bettering these things.Petr.Why, wine—Just think of wine. A hundred vintagesLie in my cellar; by my taste I tellEach one; are eye or ear so delicate?Par.Here’s half a case already.Petr.Then again,Look on this side. You bid your friends to supper:That is a promise; and hath all your life1619An hour more suitable for skilful kindness?They come perturbed, fatigued, hungry and thirsty;Nature exhausts them for you, drains them emptyTo take all kinds of pleasure; their grated nervesAsk music, their wearied limbs soft cushioned couches,Their harassed mind wise cheerful conversation,Their body’s appetites fawn at the wordOf food and wine: and yet we see these things,Which should be studied, ordered, suited, measured,All jumbled in confusion, till a feast,Instead of relaxation and renewal,1630Becomes, I say, for body and for mindThe worst discomfort and the stiffest trialThat life can show.Par.Bravo! bravo!Ner.For one,I am converted. Thou shalt be henceforthArbiter of my table.Br.(to servt.) ’Tis boiling hot;Taste it.Ner.(to Petron.) Accept you the office?Petr.This would make meA Cæsar above Cæsar.Ner.In the provinceOf imperial æsthetics.Servt. to Brit.Pardon, your highness,I will add water to it: ’tis yet unmixed.[They pour in the poison.Petr.’Twill be a tyranny. For look, I hold1640Man’s stomach is not to be trifled with.Not only should your table give delightEven to the ravishment of every palate,But since the end and final cause of foodIs not to breed diseases in the flesh,Nor heat the spirits more than they can bear,But rather to build up and comfort health,I’d order first that there be served at tableNothing but what is wholesome.Br.(after drinking nubile Petr. speaks). Ah![Falls back.Oct.The wine, the wine!Br.Ah![Dies.Oct.He is dead. O dead! O dead!1650Lucan, Petronius and Paris go to Britannicus.Domitia follows.—All rising.Agr.What is this?Ner.He hath a fit.Petr.He doth not breathe.Oct.(has come round to front). Alas, alas! my brother; he is dead.Ner.Nay, sit you down; look not aghast, I say.He hath the falling sickness, and will oftFaint on a sudden, as ye see. He liesAn hour as dead, and then awakes againWith nought amiss. Best take him out in quiet.(To servants.) Carry him from the room.Luc.Lift you his feet, Petronius.We two will take him.Ner.Let him be, I say.1660His servants will attend him. Return to table:We cannot spare you.Par.(to Oct.)Honoured lady, be hopeful:For hath your noble brother e’er been takenLike this, he may recover.Oct.(to Par.)Never—Never! O never! he is dead! I knew it![Going.Ner.(to Oct.) Heh, sit you down. What could you do, I pray?He will come round.Oct.Oh! I will follow him.[Exit with servants who are carrying Brit.Petr.(to Par.) How happened it?Par.(to Petr.)He drank a draught of wineFresh mixed, and then fell back just as you saw.What think you?Petr.(to Par.) Think you ’twas aught?1670Par.(to Luc.)What think you?Luc.Impossible.Dom.(aside). He is poisoned. Yet my sisterWas nothing privy to it. She is pale.Ner.Come, sit you down, aunt: come, Petronius,Lucan, be seated. Let not the horrid sightUnwhet your appetites.Petr.(to Luc.)That was no fit.[To Par.He is dead. What if ’twere poison? Where’s the drink?Par.’Twas hurried out.Luc.O God!Ner.(to servts.) Serve out the wine.We all must need a bumper; ’tis most natural.I have known the mere revulsion to provoke1680In a strong man a seizure similarTo that which frighted him.Par.(aside). ’Twould not amaze me,Had he such drink to cheer him.[All refuse drink.Pop.(to Nero).I will not drink.Ner.From my cup.Pop.Well, from thine.[Drinks.Luc.(aside).He is self-betrayed.Ner.Where were we?Petr.At the point where Cæsar made meArbiter of his table. I shall askTo inaugurate my office.Ner.Do so, Petronius.Petr.Then know you are all dismissed. Let all go home,And for the prince’s safety offer up[All rise.What vows ye may unto the gods. Myself,I set the example, and go first. Come, Lucan.[Going.Ner.Eh! eh! yet thus ’tis best. Good night, Petronius,1691Thou hast spoken well; may the gods hear thy prayers.I wish you all good night.In disorder of going curtain falls.

Sel.I will deserve it.[Exeunt.

SCENE · 3The room in Otho’s house. Enter POPPÆA and MAID.

The room in Otho’s house. Enter POPPÆA and MAID.

MAID.

Madam, the litter waits.

POPPÆA.

Give me my mirror, miss.Why, see how slovenly thou’st done my hair;’Tis out already.

Give me my mirror, miss.

Why, see how slovenly thou’st done my hair;

’Tis out already.

Maid.With your pardon, madam,’Tis very well. Nay, ’tis as firm as a rock.You look your best to-night.

Maid.With your pardon, madam,

’Tis very well. Nay, ’tis as firm as a rock.

You look your best to-night.

Pop.Where is the flowerI gave thee?

Pop.Where is the flower

I gave thee?

Maid.Here, my lady.

Pop.Put it in.There, there. Ay, that will do. Now where’s mycloak?[Exit Maid.

Pop.Put it in.

There, there. Ay, that will do. Now where’s my

cloak?[Exit Maid.

Enter Otho.

OTHO.

So then you are going?

Pop.Yes, I go alone,1230Since you will not come with me.

Pop.Yes, I go alone,1230

Since you will not come with me.

Oth.You are always freeTo have your way; but when your wish is mine,It is twice yours. This time you know ’tis not:And were I used to set constraint upon you,Could it be said Otho e’er crossed his wifeWith a command, it should be now: I’d sayThis I forbid.

Oth.You are always free

To have your way; but when your wish is mine,

It is twice yours. This time you know ’tis not:

And were I used to set constraint upon you,

Could it be said Otho e’er crossed his wife

With a command, it should be now: I’d say

This I forbid.

Pop.And why?

Oth.I entreat you, dearest.

Pop.I am pledged to go.

Oth.Go not.

Pop.There’s now no choice.

Oth.A light excuse would serve: a sudden sickness,A cold, a headache. Do not go.

Oth.A light excuse would serve: a sudden sickness,

A cold, a headache. Do not go.

Pop.Why, look!1240If you are not jealous, Otho! jealous, jealous.You see not straight.

Pop.Why, look!1240

If you are not jealous, Otho! jealous, jealous.

You see not straight.

Oth.I see you smile on Cæsar.

Pop.And think you, then, I must have turned my loveWhere I have smiled? that I would play you falseFor the pleasure of it?

Pop.And think you, then, I must have turned my love

Where I have smiled? that I would play you false

For the pleasure of it?

Oth.Why then sup with Cæsar?

Pop.A trifle hangs upon him I would wear,—The world.

Pop.A trifle hangs upon him I would wear,—

The world.

Oth.So dazzled by the imperial splendour!Think: to be Cæsar’s mistress for a yearIs not to rule the world.

Oth.So dazzled by the imperial splendour!

Think: to be Cæsar’s mistress for a year

Is not to rule the world.

Pop.I will be Cæsar’s wife.

Oth.Ah! look you then so high?1250

Pop.Who shall be called my rival?

Oth.Cæsar’s wife.

Pop.She hinders not.

Oth.Oh, thou would’st never dare it,Did’st thou not love him.

Oth.Oh, thou would’st never dare it,

Did’st thou not love him.

Pop.What should I not dare?

Oth.Hast thou considered well the ambiguous styleThou goest to take, and yet determined?

Oth.Hast thou considered well the ambiguous style

Thou goest to take, and yet determined?

Pop.Ay.

Oth.’Tis death, ’tis death. I speak now but for thee:Not for myself. The cup Octavia drinksTo quit thy place thou too wilt come to taste.

Oth.’Tis death, ’tis death. I speak now but for thee:

Not for myself. The cup Octavia drinks

To quit thy place thou too wilt come to taste.

Pop.That is my risk. The sport were tame without it:1260The game can boast a sting.

Pop.That is my risk. The sport were tame without it:

The game can boast a sting.

Oth.Weigh well the danger:Think of it thus; to live on a capriceWhose jealousy is death; where for the reasonOne seems to love thee will be ten to hate thee;Where not to be beforehand with a treacheryIs to be victim.

Oth.Weigh well the danger:

Think of it thus; to live on a caprice

Whose jealousy is death; where for the reason

One seems to love thee will be ten to hate thee;

Where not to be beforehand with a treachery

Is to be victim.

Pop.I can steer my way.

Oth.And for this desperate venture wilt cast offMy love, our love?

Oth.And for this desperate venture wilt cast off

My love, our love?

Pop.What is love?

Oth.Art thou Poppæa?Wer’t any else but thou that questioned thus,My answer then were ready: I should say1270Ask of Poppæa, ’tis the thing she knows;Ask Otho’s wife what love is, she can tell.And thou to ask! as if ’twere some strange matterWide of experience, and to ask of meWho won thee for my teacher!

Oth.Art thou Poppæa?

Wer’t any else but thou that questioned thus,

My answer then were ready: I should say

Ask of Poppæa, ’tis the thing she knows;

Ask Otho’s wife what love is, she can tell.

And thou to ask! as if ’twere some strange matter

Wide of experience, and to ask of me

Who won thee for my teacher!

Pop.’Tis true the impeachmentI make of love is that he hath exhaustedHis treasure rather than denied us aught.

Pop.’Tis true the impeachment

I make of love is that he hath exhausted

His treasure rather than denied us aught.

Oth.Exhausted love! how mean you?

Pop.See! I am madeOf other stuff and passions besides love.You cannot wish that all my life should move1280Pent in this narrow circle, day by dayKeeping the pretty game up which I learnedWhen I was green: that I should ne’er do elseThan this one thing, and that so constantlyThat even the habit and the practice of itAre scarce employment; that I should grow grey,And see the wide and seasonable fieldOf life’s exertion and excitement fallowWith this one weed of love?

Pop.See! I am made

Of other stuff and passions besides love.

You cannot wish that all my life should move

Pent in this narrow circle, day by day

Keeping the pretty game up which I learned

When I was green: that I should ne’er do else

Than this one thing, and that so constantly

That even the habit and the practice of it

Are scarce employment; that I should grow grey,

And see the wide and seasonable field

Of life’s exertion and excitement fallow

With this one weed of love?

Oth.A weed, you say!

Pop.I have other motions in me. I’ve an itch1290Men call ambition, and I see a prizeLooks worth the having.

Pop.I have other motions in me. I’ve an itch

Men call ambition, and I see a prize

Looks worth the having.

Oth.’Tis not worth the having.

Pop.Why, what were I to thee, could’st thou be Cæsar?

Oth.Even all thou art; I have no itch to ruleMerely to see that game played out, and cryAt the end—what is ambition?

Oth.Even all thou art; I have no itch to rule

Merely to see that game played out, and cry

At the end—what is ambition?

Pop.It hath no end.

Oth.’Tis plain love hath an end.

Pop.Nay, as I love thee,I still shall love thee. Only, Otho ....

Pop.Nay, as I love thee,

I still shall love thee. Only, Otho ....

Oth.What?

Pop.I thought your eye was open to perceiveThe grandeur of my scheme.

Pop.I thought your eye was open to perceive

The grandeur of my scheme.

Oth.Thou wert mistaken.

Pop.Upon what falls to-night, let us decide.1300I have no secrets from you: if I prosper,Desert me if you will, but blame me not:For dared I combat Cæsar’s inclinationThere were as much to lose. The thing I doWill be your safety.

Pop.Upon what falls to-night, let us decide.1300

I have no secrets from you: if I prosper,

Desert me if you will, but blame me not:

For dared I combat Cæsar’s inclination

There were as much to lose. The thing I do

Will be your safety.

Oth.Rather would I die,Ay, rather far that thou should’st die than doThis baseness willingly.

Oth.Rather would I die,

Ay, rather far that thou should’st die than do

This baseness willingly.

Pop.Nay, speak not so.I shall do nothing base.

Pop.Nay, speak not so.

I shall do nothing base.

Oth.Thou must succeed.Only before thou goest I’ll kiss thee once.[Kisses Pop.1310Otho’s last kiss. Farewell.

Oth.Thou must succeed.

Only before thou goest I’ll kiss thee once.[Kisses Pop.

Otho’s last kiss. Farewell.

Pop.Good night. I go.Lesbia, my cloak! I shall have news ere morn.[Exit.

Pop.Good night. I go.

Lesbia, my cloak! I shall have news ere morn.[Exit.

Oth.Gone! With a graceAs firm, as pleasant, gay and self-possessedAs that with which she hath come a thousand timesTo meet me, kiss me, and call me hers, she goesTo change her husband .. gone! and not a signTo show that leaving me was losing aught!Fool that I was! To the soul I knew her vain,Self-seeking, light, petulant at the breath1320Of contradiction, and yet I trusted. What,Asks she, is love. Ay, what? I love my dog;He is devoted beyond reason, pitifulIn his dependence; he will scarce reproach meWith some short wondering sorrow, if I strike him—I love my horse; he bears me willingly,Answering spiritedly; with all his strengthGenerous and gentle. But woman, if man love her,—Seeing she is less devoted than the hound,Less noble than the horse,—’tis that we deem,1330That being human she can gauge the worthOf our intensity, and in kind somewhatRepay it: ’tis a delusion; spite of shew,She hath not in her heart that which her eyesFondly declare. There is no passion possibleWhich beauty can interpret or soft speechExpress, which was not mine; ay, by that titleO’er and o’er; yet I think no dog in RomeWould leave the meanest slave that fed him once,As hath this woman left the man that loved her.[Knocking.

Oth.Gone! With a grace

As firm, as pleasant, gay and self-possessed

As that with which she hath come a thousand times

To meet me, kiss me, and call me hers, she goes

To change her husband .. gone! and not a sign

To show that leaving me was losing aught!

Fool that I was! To the soul I knew her vain,

Self-seeking, light, petulant at the breath

Of contradiction, and yet I trusted. What,

Asks she, is love. Ay, what? I love my dog;

He is devoted beyond reason, pitiful

In his dependence; he will scarce reproach me

With some short wondering sorrow, if I strike him—

I love my horse; he bears me willingly,

Answering spiritedly; with all his strength

Generous and gentle. But woman, if man love her,—

Seeing she is less devoted than the hound,

Less noble than the horse,—’tis that we deem,

That being human she can gauge the worth

Of our intensity, and in kind somewhat

Repay it: ’tis a delusion; spite of shew,

She hath not in her heart that which her eyes

Fondly declare. There is no passion possible

Which beauty can interpret or soft speech

Express, which was not mine; ay, by that title

O’er and o’er; yet I think no dog in Rome

Would leave the meanest slave that fed him once,

As hath this woman left the man that loved her.

[Knocking.

Enter Lucan and Petronius.

LUCAN.

Ha! here he is. We have come to fetch you, Otho.

Oth.I do not go to-night.1341

PETRONIUS.

Not go! What is’t, man?—ill?

Oth.My wife has gone, therefore I do not go:—You see the matter, maybe have foreseen it;I was too blind. Spare me your condolence;I do not wish even sympathy. You knowI loved her, but ’tis over. Let me give youSuch knowledge as I wish my friends to have,Else might they mistake somewhat. See! she is gone1350To-night against my wish: ’tis nothing more:But this will lead to much. I let my house;Sell you my wine, Petronius, if you wish it,And take—I shall not want for interest—The Lusitanian proconsulate.

Oth.My wife has gone, therefore I do not go:—

You see the matter, maybe have foreseen it;

I was too blind. Spare me your condolence;

I do not wish even sympathy. You know

I loved her, but ’tis over. Let me give you

Such knowledge as I wish my friends to have,

Else might they mistake somewhat. See! she is gone

To-night against my wish: ’tis nothing more:

But this will lead to much. I let my house;

Sell you my wine, Petronius, if you wish it,

And take—I shall not want for interest—

The Lusitanian proconsulate.

Luc.You go from Rome?

Oth.I do.

Petr.Break not with Cæsar.

Oth.I’ll take employment.

Petr.Jove! I think you’re wise,Otho; you’re wise. I’ve half a mind myselfTo give my friends the slip. But as it is,Well..come, I’ll take the wine; what is your price?

Petr.Jove! I think you’re wise,

Otho; you’re wise. I’ve half a mind myself

To give my friends the slip. But as it is,

Well..come, I’ll take the wine; what is your price?

1360Oth.The price I gave.

Oth.The price I gave.

Petr.A bargain. I shall send for it.

Luc.(to Otho). Otho, I will not go. Although thy wrongCannot be stayed, yet would I rather dieThan sit and smile on it.

Luc.(to Otho). Otho, I will not go. Although thy wrong

Cannot be stayed, yet would I rather die

Than sit and smile on it.

Oth.I thank thee, Lucan.I’d ask thee rather look upon the matterAs on a thing of course: I think it is.Go, take no note of it.

Oth.I thank thee, Lucan.

I’d ask thee rather look upon the matter

As on a thing of course: I think it is.

Go, take no note of it.

Luc.If ’tis thy wish.

Oth.It is. Good night.

Luc. and Petr.Good night.[Exeunt.SCENE · 4A room in the Palace. Enter AGRIPPINA.AGRIPPINA.Thus must it be then. I must be cast out,Turned from the palace, lodged in a private house,1370Retired, reduced, forgotten, like any relicOf barbarous royalty, caged out of reachOf good or ill; my state just so much showAs has no meaning. Now may some god of mischiefDare set me in the roll of puny spirits.Ah!—Hath this my seal, seemeth it? O may my foesBe fooled so far to think that guile will stayFirst in catastrophe. Nay, if I crouch,’Tis but to plant a foot whence I may boundWith braver spring.—I am clear; the right’s my hope.1380Right against blood hath still been honourable.Men love the name of Brutus. The first BrutusSlew his own son; the last his Cæsar. Ha!’Tis madness; nay, that’s not my thought, not that.’Twould fright the world that there should be a womanWho could slay Cæsar and son in one. Nay, nay,That lies beyond all fate. Yet, short of that,—O blood, thou sacrament and bond of nature,Look to the strain: summon thy best allies,Thy yearnings and thy shudderings, thy terrorsAnd dreams of dread; marshal the myriad fingers1391Of scorn and hate: else, O thy rottennessWill out. Indeed I think thou’rt a weak thing,Bred of opinion; when I would have trusted thee,Hath not that other rivet of thy chainSnapped at the mutual end? Thy boasted anchorDrags on the bottom, and my ship drifts onTo the rocks, to the rocks: missing that hold, the senseIs dizzy with madness; ay, and whither I goIs hidden; nor aught I know, save that the future,1400Whate’er it be, I shall do much to make.Enter Britannicus.Ah! ah! ’tis thee.Speak softly, for these walls have ears.BRITANNICUS.Thou thinkestThat Cæsar watches me.Agr.To-day thy spiesAre mine, but must not hear.Br.Hast thou seen Burrus?Agr.He is thine enemy: no hope from him.Br.I would not have this spoken of as my hope.Agr.True, boy. I mentioned not thy name, and Nero,Being now persuaded thou art innocent,Forgives thee. Let the risk I ran for thee1410Be earnest of more good.Br.I thank thee for it.Agr.’Tis nothing, this. Thou yet shalt reign.Br.I pray theeDraw me not into thy deep-plotted schemesThat rush on guilt. If I have hope or wish,’Tis but to live till the divorce be writ’Twixt Cæsar and my sister: that is not longTo wait; and then her exile, which must follow,If I may share, I think some days of peaceMay be in store for both. That is my hope,Not Rome, nor empire, but some tranquil spot1420Where innocence may dwell, and be allowedTo be its own protection.Agr.Are you that fool?Br.I would none doubted it.Agr.Can it be possibleThat thou, who in thy veins hast the best bloodOf Rome, should’st own so beggarly a spirit,And being the heir of all the world should’st wishOnly to hide thy claim, so thou may’st liveThe life which broken-hearted slaves, and menDiseased and aged scarce prize?Br.I hear, I hear,And am not shamed.Agr.Nay, then I have more to say.Br.I too might say somewhat. Is it not strange,1431Thou being a lady, should’st possess a heartSo fond of wrong, and blood, and wrathful deeds?Agr.Ah, ah! Thou thinkest that thou know’st me rightly,And yet would’st dare to taunt me, and to thwartMy stablished purpose? Child, I say, rememberThe deeds thou castest in my teeth, and thinkWhether it were not much better now at lastTo side with me, and take the help I proffer.I have sworn to set thee on the throne; think twiceEre thou oppose my will.Br.Did’st thou not say1440Thou had’st persuaded Nero of my innocence?Agr.Say I was wrong.Br.Nay, thou wert right in that,Wrong now returning on disclaimed ambition.Agr.Art thou content to see thyself deposed,Thy sister thus dishonoured ....Br.Say no more.Agr.Consider!Br.Nay, I’ll not consider.Agr.NowThis once again I bid thee, child, consider.Doubt not my power.Br.No more. I will not join thee.Agr.Then hear me, child. Whether thou join or not,1450Whether thou wilt be Cæsar, or refusest,Thou shalt be Cæsar. If thou wilt not plot,It shall be plotted for thee: in my handsI hold thy life, and guard it but for this,To make thee Cæsar. Ay, and if thou shrinkestWhen the day comes, I’ll have a doll made like thee;My men shall carry it about, and style itBritannicus, and shout to it as to Cæsar.I say thou shalt be Cæsar, think it o’er.Dare not refuse me: ’tis not yet too late;1460To-morrow I will speak with thee again.Now to thy better thought.[Exit.Br.O murderess!And for this last turn must I thank my folly,That partly trusted her. Now would to heaven,If live I must, that I might change my lotWith any man soe’er, though he be chosenAnd picked for misery. Surely there’s noneIn all the empire can show cause to standAnd weigh his woe with mine. Find me the man,If such there be, that hath an only sister1470’Spoused to a murderer and adulterer,Who hates her virtue, since it shames pretextTo cast her off: or, if such man be found,Hath he for mother one that slew his father,And threats him with like death? or if all thisBe matched in one, hath he no remedy?Is his speech treason? Is his silence treason?Is he quite friendless, helpless?Forbidden to budge a foot from the dread focusOf crime and anguish? ’Mongst his lesser wrongsHath he this brag, that he hath been robbed, as I,1481Of the empire of the world? O happy hinds,Who toil under clear skies, and for complaintDiscuss long hours, low wages, meagre food,Hard beds and scanty covering: ye who trailA pike in German swamps, or shield your headsOn Asian sands, I’d welcome all your griefsSo I might taste the common nameless joysWhich ye light-heartedly so lightly prize,And know not what a text for happinessLies in a thoughtless laugh: what long, impassable,1491Unmeasured gulfs of joy sunder it offFrom my heart-stifling woe.Enter Octavia.Thou art welcome, sister.OCTAVIA.Brother, a request you must grant.Br.Anything,Dearest, to thee.Oct.Sup not to-night with Cæsar.Br.I must. Yet what’s thy reason? Thou art movedStrangely beyond the matter.Oct.Read this paper.Br.(reads).Britannicus, sup not to-day with Cæsar.How came you by it?Oct.’Tis from Fulvia,The maid that loves Seleucus; whence ’tis his.Br.Most like; I know the turbaned mountebank1500Keeps an old kindness for me. Yet nay, nay—If this should now be found—nay, he’s too shrewdTo put himself in writing.Oct.He might dareWith Fulvia.Br.Nay. I cannot think ’tis his.And were it, what’s his credit? I do not trustThese fellows far. They trade in mystery,And love to thicken water,—and if there beA plot to poison me, to-day’s occasionOffers no easier vantage than to-morrow’s.My safety lies elsewhere.Oct.O do not go.1510Br.Fear not, Octavia, I am very careful,And eat but sparingly of any dish,Nor aught but what goes round. To stay awayMight show suspicion, and could serve no end.Oct.Brother, be warned, go not to-night;to-morrowWe may learn more. I beg ...Br.Nay, urge me not,Since with this warning I am doubly safe.Oct.Oh, I dread Nero’s anger; ’tis most certainThat ill will come of it.Br.Nay, fear him not.1519Let us go sup. I will use all precaution,Thou may’st be sure, since for thy sake I do it:And while thou livest I shall have both reasonAnd wish to live. Have care, too, for thyself;I think thy peril is no less than mine.[Exeunt.SCENE · 5Supper-room in the Palace. All are reclined at two tables, thus:Agrippina,Nero,Poppæa.A gentm.,Octavia,A lady.Tigellinus,A gentm.Britannicus,Paris.A lady,Domitia.Petronius,Lucan.Waiters, tasters, etc. Some are talking.NERO.I will propose a question to the table:Which of the arts is greatest? Lucan, these sausagesAre something new: try them.POPPÆA.You question, Cæsar,Which of the arts is greatest? I would answerThe one which Cæsar honours.TIGELLINUS.But if CæsarShould honour more than one?PETRONIUS.The sausages1529Are good enough. As for the arts, here’s LucanCan speak for poetry.Ner.If any manCould prove one art beyond contention first,I would reward him excellently. With meTo know the best and follow it are one:Success being easy in all, my difficultyLies in distraction: show me then the best,I’ll perfect that.Pop.What! Cæsar give up singing?Ner.For better things.Tig.Which be the arts?Petr.(to servants).Here, vermin,This wine’s half-way to vinegar.Ner.Who will name1540The arts? There’s sculpture, painting, poetry,Singing ..PARIS.And acting.Ner.Well, what more?Tig.Horse-racing.Pop.(across). Ruling I think’s an art.AGRIPPINA(across).And making love.Ner.’Tis of the fine arts we would speak.(To servants) Ho! fellows,Pour out the wine! Ah, here’s a lovely mullet.Has this been tasted?TASTER.Ay, Cæsar. ’Tis stuffed with truffles.Ner. A mullet stuffed with truffles. Now, Poppæa,Will not this please?Pop.I thank you.—(aside) Prithee, bidLucan to speak for poetry.BRITANNICUS(to servant).Nay, the mullet.Ner.Lucan, what say you for your art?LUCAN.I claim1550The first place for it, and I say ’tis provedNobler than any plastic art in this;It needs not tools nor gross material,And hath twin doors to the mind, both eye and ear.Nay, even of drama Aristotle held,Though a good play must act well, that ’tis perfectWithout the stage: which shows that poetryStains not her excellence by being kindTo those encumbrances, which, in my judgment,Are pushed to fetter fancy.—Then hath our art1560Such strong and universal masteryO’er heart and mind, that here ’tis only musicCompetes, and she is second far in scope,Directness, and distinction.Ner.You think that?Luc.Ay, Cæsar.Ner.Do you! you who have ever beenMore gracious to my voice than to my pen!Am I a better singer then than poet,Think you?Luc.Nay, Cæsar; but ....Ner.Ha! then you are envious.You would not have me write because, forsooth,You write yourself. Now, by the god, I swear1570Thou shalt not publish nor recite a verseWithin my empire till I give thee leave.One man to keep the muses to himself!Monstrous!Pop.And serve him right.Luc.(aside). Monstrous indeed!Ner.(to servants). Heat me some wine.Come, lords, ye drink not. Eh! what have we here?Servant.Cherubim, Cæsar.Ner.What is Cherubim?Petr.The gods of the Jews.Ner.Hoo! let us eat their gods.They are much like pheasants.Servt.’Tis a pheasant, Cæsar,And stuffed with woodcock.Petr.Cæsar, there’s one artHas not been mentioned; though I think at table1581It should not be passed o’er.Ner.What art is that?Petr.I shall contend it is the first of all.Ner.Name it.Petr.It hath no name. It scarce exists.I think the goddess never walked the earth.Par.Ranks she with poetry?Petr.I avouch above.Par.Cæsar, if this be proved, thou must rescindThy poet’s sentence.Ner.Let him prove it first.Petr.I see in other arts some wit or fancyExtrinsical to nature. I can find1590No ground of need in any, save maybeIn architecture,—which ranks not so wellAs to be mentioned by you.—Now, if IShow you an art whose matter every dayIs life’s necessity, which gives more scopeTo skill than any other, which delightsAmong the senses one which the other artsWholly neglect, would you not say this artHath the first claim? See, I could live withoutThe joys of harmony, colour, or form,1600But without this it were impossibleTo outlast the week.Par.Oh! Cookery.Several.Cookery, cookery!Petr.There’s the mistake I gird at. None of youBut thinks this art I speak of, which includesPleasures of entertainment, ease and elegance,The mind’s best recreation, the satisfactionOf the body’s nearest needs, the preservationOf health, and with all this, the gratifyingOf that one sense, which above all the sensesIs subtle, difficult, discerning, ticklish,1610And most importunate,—that this great artIs a cook’s province.Ner.True, Petronius, true;There’s room for bettering these things.Petr.Why, wine—Just think of wine. A hundred vintagesLie in my cellar; by my taste I tellEach one; are eye or ear so delicate?Par.Here’s half a case already.Petr.Then again,Look on this side. You bid your friends to supper:That is a promise; and hath all your life1619An hour more suitable for skilful kindness?They come perturbed, fatigued, hungry and thirsty;Nature exhausts them for you, drains them emptyTo take all kinds of pleasure; their grated nervesAsk music, their wearied limbs soft cushioned couches,Their harassed mind wise cheerful conversation,Their body’s appetites fawn at the wordOf food and wine: and yet we see these things,Which should be studied, ordered, suited, measured,All jumbled in confusion, till a feast,Instead of relaxation and renewal,1630Becomes, I say, for body and for mindThe worst discomfort and the stiffest trialThat life can show.Par.Bravo! bravo!Ner.For one,I am converted. Thou shalt be henceforthArbiter of my table.Br.(to servt.) ’Tis boiling hot;Taste it.Ner.(to Petron.) Accept you the office?Petr.This would make meA Cæsar above Cæsar.Ner.In the provinceOf imperial æsthetics.Servt. to Brit.Pardon, your highness,I will add water to it: ’tis yet unmixed.[They pour in the poison.Petr.’Twill be a tyranny. For look, I hold1640Man’s stomach is not to be trifled with.Not only should your table give delightEven to the ravishment of every palate,But since the end and final cause of foodIs not to breed diseases in the flesh,Nor heat the spirits more than they can bear,But rather to build up and comfort health,I’d order first that there be served at tableNothing but what is wholesome.Br.(after drinking nubile Petr. speaks). Ah![Falls back.Oct.The wine, the wine!Br.Ah![Dies.Oct.He is dead. O dead! O dead!1650Lucan, Petronius and Paris go to Britannicus.Domitia follows.—All rising.Agr.What is this?Ner.He hath a fit.Petr.He doth not breathe.Oct.(has come round to front). Alas, alas! my brother; he is dead.Ner.Nay, sit you down; look not aghast, I say.He hath the falling sickness, and will oftFaint on a sudden, as ye see. He liesAn hour as dead, and then awakes againWith nought amiss. Best take him out in quiet.(To servants.) Carry him from the room.Luc.Lift you his feet, Petronius.We two will take him.Ner.Let him be, I say.1660His servants will attend him. Return to table:We cannot spare you.Par.(to Oct.)Honoured lady, be hopeful:For hath your noble brother e’er been takenLike this, he may recover.Oct.(to Par.)Never—Never! O never! he is dead! I knew it![Going.Ner.(to Oct.) Heh, sit you down. What could you do, I pray?He will come round.Oct.Oh! I will follow him.[Exit with servants who are carrying Brit.Petr.(to Par.) How happened it?Par.(to Petr.)He drank a draught of wineFresh mixed, and then fell back just as you saw.What think you?Petr.(to Par.) Think you ’twas aught?1670Par.(to Luc.)What think you?Luc.Impossible.Dom.(aside). He is poisoned. Yet my sisterWas nothing privy to it. She is pale.Ner.Come, sit you down, aunt: come, Petronius,Lucan, be seated. Let not the horrid sightUnwhet your appetites.Petr.(to Luc.)That was no fit.[To Par.He is dead. What if ’twere poison? Where’s the drink?Par.’Twas hurried out.Luc.O God!Ner.(to servts.) Serve out the wine.We all must need a bumper; ’tis most natural.I have known the mere revulsion to provoke1680In a strong man a seizure similarTo that which frighted him.Par.(aside). ’Twould not amaze me,Had he such drink to cheer him.[All refuse drink.Pop.(to Nero).I will not drink.Ner.From my cup.Pop.Well, from thine.[Drinks.Luc.(aside).He is self-betrayed.Ner.Where were we?Petr.At the point where Cæsar made meArbiter of his table. I shall askTo inaugurate my office.Ner.Do so, Petronius.Petr.Then know you are all dismissed. Let all go home,And for the prince’s safety offer up[All rise.What vows ye may unto the gods. Myself,I set the example, and go first. Come, Lucan.[Going.Ner.Eh! eh! yet thus ’tis best. Good night, Petronius,1691Thou hast spoken well; may the gods hear thy prayers.I wish you all good night.In disorder of going curtain falls.

Luc. and Petr.Good night.[Exeunt.

SCENE · 4A room in the Palace. Enter AGRIPPINA.

A room in the Palace. Enter AGRIPPINA.

AGRIPPINA.

Thus must it be then. I must be cast out,Turned from the palace, lodged in a private house,1370Retired, reduced, forgotten, like any relicOf barbarous royalty, caged out of reachOf good or ill; my state just so much showAs has no meaning. Now may some god of mischiefDare set me in the roll of puny spirits.Ah!—Hath this my seal, seemeth it? O may my foesBe fooled so far to think that guile will stayFirst in catastrophe. Nay, if I crouch,’Tis but to plant a foot whence I may boundWith braver spring.—I am clear; the right’s my hope.1380Right against blood hath still been honourable.Men love the name of Brutus. The first BrutusSlew his own son; the last his Cæsar. Ha!’Tis madness; nay, that’s not my thought, not that.’Twould fright the world that there should be a womanWho could slay Cæsar and son in one. Nay, nay,That lies beyond all fate. Yet, short of that,—O blood, thou sacrament and bond of nature,Look to the strain: summon thy best allies,Thy yearnings and thy shudderings, thy terrorsAnd dreams of dread; marshal the myriad fingers1391Of scorn and hate: else, O thy rottennessWill out. Indeed I think thou’rt a weak thing,Bred of opinion; when I would have trusted thee,Hath not that other rivet of thy chainSnapped at the mutual end? Thy boasted anchorDrags on the bottom, and my ship drifts onTo the rocks, to the rocks: missing that hold, the senseIs dizzy with madness; ay, and whither I goIs hidden; nor aught I know, save that the future,1400Whate’er it be, I shall do much to make.

Thus must it be then. I must be cast out,

Turned from the palace, lodged in a private house,

Retired, reduced, forgotten, like any relic

Of barbarous royalty, caged out of reach

Of good or ill; my state just so much show

As has no meaning. Now may some god of mischief

Dare set me in the roll of puny spirits.

Ah!—Hath this my seal, seemeth it? O may my foes

Be fooled so far to think that guile will stay

First in catastrophe. Nay, if I crouch,

’Tis but to plant a foot whence I may bound

With braver spring.—I am clear; the right’s my hope.

Right against blood hath still been honourable.

Men love the name of Brutus. The first Brutus

Slew his own son; the last his Cæsar. Ha!

’Tis madness; nay, that’s not my thought, not that.

’Twould fright the world that there should be a woman

Who could slay Cæsar and son in one. Nay, nay,

That lies beyond all fate. Yet, short of that,—

O blood, thou sacrament and bond of nature,

Look to the strain: summon thy best allies,

Thy yearnings and thy shudderings, thy terrors

And dreams of dread; marshal the myriad fingers

Of scorn and hate: else, O thy rottenness

Will out. Indeed I think thou’rt a weak thing,

Bred of opinion; when I would have trusted thee,

Hath not that other rivet of thy chain

Snapped at the mutual end? Thy boasted anchor

Drags on the bottom, and my ship drifts on

To the rocks, to the rocks: missing that hold, the sense

Is dizzy with madness; ay, and whither I go

Is hidden; nor aught I know, save that the future,

Whate’er it be, I shall do much to make.

Enter Britannicus.

Ah! ah! ’tis thee.Speak softly, for these walls have ears.

Ah! ah! ’tis thee.

Speak softly, for these walls have ears.

BRITANNICUS.

Thou thinkestThat Cæsar watches me.

Thou thinkest

That Cæsar watches me.

Agr.To-day thy spiesAre mine, but must not hear.

Agr.To-day thy spies

Are mine, but must not hear.

Br.Hast thou seen Burrus?

Agr.He is thine enemy: no hope from him.

Br.I would not have this spoken of as my hope.

Agr.True, boy. I mentioned not thy name, and Nero,Being now persuaded thou art innocent,Forgives thee. Let the risk I ran for thee1410Be earnest of more good.

Agr.True, boy. I mentioned not thy name, and Nero,

Being now persuaded thou art innocent,

Forgives thee. Let the risk I ran for thee

Be earnest of more good.

Br.I thank thee for it.

Agr.’Tis nothing, this. Thou yet shalt reign.

Br.I pray theeDraw me not into thy deep-plotted schemesThat rush on guilt. If I have hope or wish,’Tis but to live till the divorce be writ’Twixt Cæsar and my sister: that is not longTo wait; and then her exile, which must follow,If I may share, I think some days of peaceMay be in store for both. That is my hope,Not Rome, nor empire, but some tranquil spot1420Where innocence may dwell, and be allowedTo be its own protection.

Br.I pray thee

Draw me not into thy deep-plotted schemes

That rush on guilt. If I have hope or wish,

’Tis but to live till the divorce be writ

’Twixt Cæsar and my sister: that is not long

To wait; and then her exile, which must follow,

If I may share, I think some days of peace

May be in store for both. That is my hope,

Not Rome, nor empire, but some tranquil spot

Where innocence may dwell, and be allowed

To be its own protection.

Agr.Are you that fool?

Br.I would none doubted it.

Agr.Can it be possibleThat thou, who in thy veins hast the best bloodOf Rome, should’st own so beggarly a spirit,And being the heir of all the world should’st wishOnly to hide thy claim, so thou may’st liveThe life which broken-hearted slaves, and menDiseased and aged scarce prize?

Agr.Can it be possible

That thou, who in thy veins hast the best blood

Of Rome, should’st own so beggarly a spirit,

And being the heir of all the world should’st wish

Only to hide thy claim, so thou may’st live

The life which broken-hearted slaves, and men

Diseased and aged scarce prize?

Br.I hear, I hear,And am not shamed.

Br.I hear, I hear,

And am not shamed.

Agr.Nay, then I have more to say.

Br.I too might say somewhat. Is it not strange,1431Thou being a lady, should’st possess a heartSo fond of wrong, and blood, and wrathful deeds?

Br.I too might say somewhat. Is it not strange,

Thou being a lady, should’st possess a heart

So fond of wrong, and blood, and wrathful deeds?

Agr.Ah, ah! Thou thinkest that thou know’st me rightly,And yet would’st dare to taunt me, and to thwartMy stablished purpose? Child, I say, rememberThe deeds thou castest in my teeth, and thinkWhether it were not much better now at lastTo side with me, and take the help I proffer.I have sworn to set thee on the throne; think twiceEre thou oppose my will.

Agr.Ah, ah! Thou thinkest that thou know’st me rightly,

And yet would’st dare to taunt me, and to thwart

My stablished purpose? Child, I say, remember

The deeds thou castest in my teeth, and think

Whether it were not much better now at last

To side with me, and take the help I proffer.

I have sworn to set thee on the throne; think twice

Ere thou oppose my will.

Br.Did’st thou not say1440Thou had’st persuaded Nero of my innocence?

Br.Did’st thou not say1440

Thou had’st persuaded Nero of my innocence?

Agr.Say I was wrong.

Br.Nay, thou wert right in that,Wrong now returning on disclaimed ambition.

Br.Nay, thou wert right in that,

Wrong now returning on disclaimed ambition.

Agr.Art thou content to see thyself deposed,Thy sister thus dishonoured ....

Agr.Art thou content to see thyself deposed,

Thy sister thus dishonoured ....

Br.Say no more.

Agr.Consider!

Br.Nay, I’ll not consider.

Agr.NowThis once again I bid thee, child, consider.Doubt not my power.

Agr.Now

This once again I bid thee, child, consider.

Doubt not my power.

Br.No more. I will not join thee.

Agr.Then hear me, child. Whether thou join or not,1450Whether thou wilt be Cæsar, or refusest,Thou shalt be Cæsar. If thou wilt not plot,It shall be plotted for thee: in my handsI hold thy life, and guard it but for this,To make thee Cæsar. Ay, and if thou shrinkestWhen the day comes, I’ll have a doll made like thee;My men shall carry it about, and style itBritannicus, and shout to it as to Cæsar.I say thou shalt be Cæsar, think it o’er.Dare not refuse me: ’tis not yet too late;1460To-morrow I will speak with thee again.Now to thy better thought.[Exit.

Agr.Then hear me, child. Whether thou join or not,

Whether thou wilt be Cæsar, or refusest,

Thou shalt be Cæsar. If thou wilt not plot,

It shall be plotted for thee: in my hands

I hold thy life, and guard it but for this,

To make thee Cæsar. Ay, and if thou shrinkest

When the day comes, I’ll have a doll made like thee;

My men shall carry it about, and style it

Britannicus, and shout to it as to Cæsar.

I say thou shalt be Cæsar, think it o’er.

Dare not refuse me: ’tis not yet too late;

To-morrow I will speak with thee again.

Now to thy better thought.[Exit.

Br.O murderess!And for this last turn must I thank my folly,That partly trusted her. Now would to heaven,If live I must, that I might change my lotWith any man soe’er, though he be chosenAnd picked for misery. Surely there’s noneIn all the empire can show cause to standAnd weigh his woe with mine. Find me the man,If such there be, that hath an only sister1470’Spoused to a murderer and adulterer,Who hates her virtue, since it shames pretextTo cast her off: or, if such man be found,Hath he for mother one that slew his father,And threats him with like death? or if all thisBe matched in one, hath he no remedy?Is his speech treason? Is his silence treason?Is he quite friendless, helpless?Forbidden to budge a foot from the dread focusOf crime and anguish? ’Mongst his lesser wrongsHath he this brag, that he hath been robbed, as I,1481Of the empire of the world? O happy hinds,Who toil under clear skies, and for complaintDiscuss long hours, low wages, meagre food,Hard beds and scanty covering: ye who trailA pike in German swamps, or shield your headsOn Asian sands, I’d welcome all your griefsSo I might taste the common nameless joysWhich ye light-heartedly so lightly prize,And know not what a text for happinessLies in a thoughtless laugh: what long, impassable,1491Unmeasured gulfs of joy sunder it offFrom my heart-stifling woe.

Br.O murderess!

And for this last turn must I thank my folly,

That partly trusted her. Now would to heaven,

If live I must, that I might change my lot

With any man soe’er, though he be chosen

And picked for misery. Surely there’s none

In all the empire can show cause to stand

And weigh his woe with mine. Find me the man,

If such there be, that hath an only sister

’Spoused to a murderer and adulterer,

Who hates her virtue, since it shames pretext

To cast her off: or, if such man be found,

Hath he for mother one that slew his father,

And threats him with like death? or if all this

Be matched in one, hath he no remedy?

Is his speech treason? Is his silence treason?

Is he quite friendless, helpless?

Forbidden to budge a foot from the dread focus

Of crime and anguish? ’Mongst his lesser wrongs

Hath he this brag, that he hath been robbed, as I,

Of the empire of the world? O happy hinds,

Who toil under clear skies, and for complaint

Discuss long hours, low wages, meagre food,

Hard beds and scanty covering: ye who trail

A pike in German swamps, or shield your heads

On Asian sands, I’d welcome all your griefs

So I might taste the common nameless joys

Which ye light-heartedly so lightly prize,

And know not what a text for happiness

Lies in a thoughtless laugh: what long, impassable,

Unmeasured gulfs of joy sunder it off

From my heart-stifling woe.

Enter Octavia.

Thou art welcome, sister.

OCTAVIA.

Brother, a request you must grant.

Br.Anything,Dearest, to thee.

Br.Anything,

Dearest, to thee.

Oct.Sup not to-night with Cæsar.

Br.I must. Yet what’s thy reason? Thou art movedStrangely beyond the matter.

Br.I must. Yet what’s thy reason? Thou art moved

Strangely beyond the matter.

Oct.Read this paper.

Br.(reads).Britannicus, sup not to-day with Cæsar.How came you by it?

Br.(reads).Britannicus, sup not to-day with Cæsar.

How came you by it?

Oct.’Tis from Fulvia,The maid that loves Seleucus; whence ’tis his.

Oct.’Tis from Fulvia,

The maid that loves Seleucus; whence ’tis his.

Br.Most like; I know the turbaned mountebank1500Keeps an old kindness for me. Yet nay, nay—If this should now be found—nay, he’s too shrewdTo put himself in writing.

Br.Most like; I know the turbaned mountebank

Keeps an old kindness for me. Yet nay, nay—

If this should now be found—nay, he’s too shrewd

To put himself in writing.

Oct.He might dareWith Fulvia.

Oct.He might dare

With Fulvia.

Br.Nay. I cannot think ’tis his.And were it, what’s his credit? I do not trustThese fellows far. They trade in mystery,And love to thicken water,—and if there beA plot to poison me, to-day’s occasionOffers no easier vantage than to-morrow’s.My safety lies elsewhere.

Br.Nay. I cannot think ’tis his.

And were it, what’s his credit? I do not trust

These fellows far. They trade in mystery,

And love to thicken water,—and if there be

A plot to poison me, to-day’s occasion

Offers no easier vantage than to-morrow’s.

My safety lies elsewhere.

Oct.O do not go.

1510Br.Fear not, Octavia, I am very careful,And eat but sparingly of any dish,Nor aught but what goes round. To stay awayMight show suspicion, and could serve no end.

Br.Fear not, Octavia, I am very careful,

And eat but sparingly of any dish,

Nor aught but what goes round. To stay away

Might show suspicion, and could serve no end.

Oct.Brother, be warned, go not to-night;to-morrowWe may learn more. I beg ...

Oct.Brother, be warned, go not to-night;

to-morrow

We may learn more. I beg ...

Br.Nay, urge me not,Since with this warning I am doubly safe.

Br.Nay, urge me not,

Since with this warning I am doubly safe.

Oct.Oh, I dread Nero’s anger; ’tis most certainThat ill will come of it.

Oct.Oh, I dread Nero’s anger; ’tis most certain

That ill will come of it.

Br.Nay, fear him not.1519Let us go sup. I will use all precaution,Thou may’st be sure, since for thy sake I do it:And while thou livest I shall have both reasonAnd wish to live. Have care, too, for thyself;I think thy peril is no less than mine.[Exeunt.

Br.Nay, fear him not.

Let us go sup. I will use all precaution,

Thou may’st be sure, since for thy sake I do it:

And while thou livest I shall have both reason

And wish to live. Have care, too, for thyself;

I think thy peril is no less than mine.[Exeunt.

SCENE · 5Supper-room in the Palace. All are reclined at two tables, thus:Agrippina,Nero,Poppæa.A gentm.,Octavia,A lady.Tigellinus,A gentm.Britannicus,Paris.A lady,Domitia.Petronius,Lucan.Waiters, tasters, etc. Some are talking.

Supper-room in the Palace. All are reclined at two tables, thus:

Agrippina,Nero,Poppæa.A gentm.,Octavia,A lady.Tigellinus,A gentm.Britannicus,Paris.A lady,Domitia.Petronius,Lucan.Waiters, tasters, etc. Some are talking.

NERO.

I will propose a question to the table:Which of the arts is greatest? Lucan, these sausagesAre something new: try them.

I will propose a question to the table:

Which of the arts is greatest? Lucan, these sausages

Are something new: try them.

POPPÆA.

You question, Cæsar,Which of the arts is greatest? I would answerThe one which Cæsar honours.

You question, Cæsar,

Which of the arts is greatest? I would answer

The one which Cæsar honours.

TIGELLINUS.

But if CæsarShould honour more than one?

But if Cæsar

Should honour more than one?

PETRONIUS.The sausages1529Are good enough. As for the arts, here’s LucanCan speak for poetry.

PETRONIUS.

The sausages1529

Are good enough. As for the arts, here’s Lucan

Can speak for poetry.

Ner.If any manCould prove one art beyond contention first,I would reward him excellently. With meTo know the best and follow it are one:Success being easy in all, my difficultyLies in distraction: show me then the best,I’ll perfect that.

Ner.If any man

Could prove one art beyond contention first,

I would reward him excellently. With me

To know the best and follow it are one:

Success being easy in all, my difficulty

Lies in distraction: show me then the best,

I’ll perfect that.

Pop.What! Cæsar give up singing?

Ner.For better things.

Tig.Which be the arts?

Petr.(to servants).Here, vermin,This wine’s half-way to vinegar.

Petr.(to servants).Here, vermin,

This wine’s half-way to vinegar.

Ner.Who will name1540The arts? There’s sculpture, painting, poetry,Singing ..

Ner.Who will name

The arts? There’s sculpture, painting, poetry,

Singing ..

PARIS.

And acting.

Ner.Well, what more?

Tig.Horse-racing.

Pop.(across). Ruling I think’s an art.

AGRIPPINA(across).

And making love.

Ner.’Tis of the fine arts we would speak.(To servants) Ho! fellows,Pour out the wine! Ah, here’s a lovely mullet.Has this been tasted?

Ner.’Tis of the fine arts we would speak.

(To servants) Ho! fellows,

Pour out the wine! Ah, here’s a lovely mullet.

Has this been tasted?

TASTER.

Ay, Cæsar. ’Tis stuffed with truffles.

Ner. A mullet stuffed with truffles. Now, Poppæa,Will not this please?

Ner. A mullet stuffed with truffles. Now, Poppæa,

Will not this please?

Pop.I thank you.—(aside) Prithee, bidLucan to speak for poetry.

Pop.I thank you.—(aside) Prithee, bid

Lucan to speak for poetry.

BRITANNICUS(to servant).

Nay, the mullet.

Ner.Lucan, what say you for your art?

LUCAN.

I claim1550The first place for it, and I say ’tis provedNobler than any plastic art in this;It needs not tools nor gross material,And hath twin doors to the mind, both eye and ear.Nay, even of drama Aristotle held,Though a good play must act well, that ’tis perfectWithout the stage: which shows that poetryStains not her excellence by being kindTo those encumbrances, which, in my judgment,Are pushed to fetter fancy.—Then hath our art1560Such strong and universal masteryO’er heart and mind, that here ’tis only musicCompetes, and she is second far in scope,Directness, and distinction.

I claim

The first place for it, and I say ’tis proved

Nobler than any plastic art in this;

It needs not tools nor gross material,

And hath twin doors to the mind, both eye and ear.

Nay, even of drama Aristotle held,

Though a good play must act well, that ’tis perfect

Without the stage: which shows that poetry

Stains not her excellence by being kind

To those encumbrances, which, in my judgment,

Are pushed to fetter fancy.—Then hath our art

Such strong and universal mastery

O’er heart and mind, that here ’tis only music

Competes, and she is second far in scope,

Directness, and distinction.

Ner.You think that?

Luc.Ay, Cæsar.

Ner.Do you! you who have ever beenMore gracious to my voice than to my pen!Am I a better singer then than poet,Think you?

Ner.Do you! you who have ever been

More gracious to my voice than to my pen!

Am I a better singer then than poet,

Think you?

Luc.Nay, Cæsar; but ....

Ner.Ha! then you are envious.You would not have me write because, forsooth,You write yourself. Now, by the god, I swear1570Thou shalt not publish nor recite a verseWithin my empire till I give thee leave.One man to keep the muses to himself!Monstrous!

Ner.Ha! then you are envious.

You would not have me write because, forsooth,

You write yourself. Now, by the god, I swear

Thou shalt not publish nor recite a verse

Within my empire till I give thee leave.

One man to keep the muses to himself!

Monstrous!

Pop.And serve him right.

Luc.(aside). Monstrous indeed!

Ner.(to servants). Heat me some wine.Come, lords, ye drink not. Eh! what have we here?

Ner.(to servants). Heat me some wine.

Come, lords, ye drink not. Eh! what have we here?

Servant.Cherubim, Cæsar.

Ner.What is Cherubim?

Petr.The gods of the Jews.

Ner.Hoo! let us eat their gods.They are much like pheasants.

Ner.Hoo! let us eat their gods.

They are much like pheasants.

Servt.’Tis a pheasant, Cæsar,And stuffed with woodcock.

Servt.’Tis a pheasant, Cæsar,

And stuffed with woodcock.

Petr.Cæsar, there’s one artHas not been mentioned; though I think at table1581It should not be passed o’er.

Petr.Cæsar, there’s one art

Has not been mentioned; though I think at table

It should not be passed o’er.

Ner.What art is that?

Petr.I shall contend it is the first of all.

Ner.Name it.

Petr.It hath no name. It scarce exists.I think the goddess never walked the earth.

Petr.It hath no name. It scarce exists.

I think the goddess never walked the earth.

Par.Ranks she with poetry?

Petr.I avouch above.

Par.Cæsar, if this be proved, thou must rescindThy poet’s sentence.

Par.Cæsar, if this be proved, thou must rescind

Thy poet’s sentence.

Ner.Let him prove it first.

Petr.I see in other arts some wit or fancyExtrinsical to nature. I can find1590No ground of need in any, save maybeIn architecture,—which ranks not so wellAs to be mentioned by you.—Now, if IShow you an art whose matter every dayIs life’s necessity, which gives more scopeTo skill than any other, which delightsAmong the senses one which the other artsWholly neglect, would you not say this artHath the first claim? See, I could live withoutThe joys of harmony, colour, or form,1600But without this it were impossibleTo outlast the week.

Petr.I see in other arts some wit or fancy

Extrinsical to nature. I can find

No ground of need in any, save maybe

In architecture,—which ranks not so well

As to be mentioned by you.—Now, if I

Show you an art whose matter every day

Is life’s necessity, which gives more scope

To skill than any other, which delights

Among the senses one which the other arts

Wholly neglect, would you not say this art

Hath the first claim? See, I could live without

The joys of harmony, colour, or form,

But without this it were impossible

To outlast the week.

Par.Oh! Cookery.

Several.Cookery, cookery!

Petr.There’s the mistake I gird at. None of youBut thinks this art I speak of, which includesPleasures of entertainment, ease and elegance,The mind’s best recreation, the satisfactionOf the body’s nearest needs, the preservationOf health, and with all this, the gratifyingOf that one sense, which above all the sensesIs subtle, difficult, discerning, ticklish,1610And most importunate,—that this great artIs a cook’s province.

Petr.There’s the mistake I gird at. None of you

But thinks this art I speak of, which includes

Pleasures of entertainment, ease and elegance,

The mind’s best recreation, the satisfaction

Of the body’s nearest needs, the preservation

Of health, and with all this, the gratifying

Of that one sense, which above all the senses

Is subtle, difficult, discerning, ticklish,

And most importunate,—that this great art

Is a cook’s province.

Ner.True, Petronius, true;There’s room for bettering these things.

Ner.True, Petronius, true;

There’s room for bettering these things.

Petr.Why, wine—Just think of wine. A hundred vintagesLie in my cellar; by my taste I tellEach one; are eye or ear so delicate?

Petr.Why, wine—

Just think of wine. A hundred vintages

Lie in my cellar; by my taste I tell

Each one; are eye or ear so delicate?

Par.Here’s half a case already.

Petr.Then again,Look on this side. You bid your friends to supper:That is a promise; and hath all your life1619An hour more suitable for skilful kindness?They come perturbed, fatigued, hungry and thirsty;Nature exhausts them for you, drains them emptyTo take all kinds of pleasure; their grated nervesAsk music, their wearied limbs soft cushioned couches,Their harassed mind wise cheerful conversation,Their body’s appetites fawn at the wordOf food and wine: and yet we see these things,Which should be studied, ordered, suited, measured,All jumbled in confusion, till a feast,Instead of relaxation and renewal,1630Becomes, I say, for body and for mindThe worst discomfort and the stiffest trialThat life can show.

Petr.Then again,

Look on this side. You bid your friends to supper:

That is a promise; and hath all your life

An hour more suitable for skilful kindness?

They come perturbed, fatigued, hungry and thirsty;

Nature exhausts them for you, drains them empty

To take all kinds of pleasure; their grated nerves

Ask music, their wearied limbs soft cushioned couches,

Their harassed mind wise cheerful conversation,

Their body’s appetites fawn at the word

Of food and wine: and yet we see these things,

Which should be studied, ordered, suited, measured,

All jumbled in confusion, till a feast,

Instead of relaxation and renewal,

Becomes, I say, for body and for mind

The worst discomfort and the stiffest trial

That life can show.

Par.Bravo! bravo!

Ner.For one,I am converted. Thou shalt be henceforthArbiter of my table.

Ner.For one,

I am converted. Thou shalt be henceforth

Arbiter of my table.

Br.(to servt.) ’Tis boiling hot;Taste it.

Br.(to servt.) ’Tis boiling hot;

Taste it.

Ner.(to Petron.) Accept you the office?

Petr.This would make meA Cæsar above Cæsar.

Petr.This would make me

A Cæsar above Cæsar.

Ner.In the provinceOf imperial æsthetics.

Ner.In the province

Of imperial æsthetics.

Servt. to Brit.Pardon, your highness,I will add water to it: ’tis yet unmixed.[They pour in the poison.

Servt. to Brit.Pardon, your highness,

I will add water to it: ’tis yet unmixed.

[They pour in the poison.

Petr.’Twill be a tyranny. For look, I hold1640Man’s stomach is not to be trifled with.Not only should your table give delightEven to the ravishment of every palate,But since the end and final cause of foodIs not to breed diseases in the flesh,Nor heat the spirits more than they can bear,But rather to build up and comfort health,I’d order first that there be served at tableNothing but what is wholesome.

Petr.’Twill be a tyranny. For look, I hold

Man’s stomach is not to be trifled with.

Not only should your table give delight

Even to the ravishment of every palate,

But since the end and final cause of food

Is not to breed diseases in the flesh,

Nor heat the spirits more than they can bear,

But rather to build up and comfort health,

I’d order first that there be served at table

Nothing but what is wholesome.

Br.(after drinking nubile Petr. speaks). Ah![Falls back.

Br.(after drinking nubile Petr. speaks). Ah!

[Falls back.

Oct.The wine, the wine!

Br.Ah![Dies.

Oct.He is dead. O dead! O dead!1650

Lucan, Petronius and Paris go to Britannicus.Domitia follows.—All rising.

Lucan, Petronius and Paris go to Britannicus.

Domitia follows.—All rising.

Agr.What is this?

Ner.He hath a fit.

Petr.He doth not breathe.

Oct.(has come round to front). Alas, alas! my brother; he is dead.

Ner.Nay, sit you down; look not aghast, I say.He hath the falling sickness, and will oftFaint on a sudden, as ye see. He liesAn hour as dead, and then awakes againWith nought amiss. Best take him out in quiet.(To servants.) Carry him from the room.

Ner.Nay, sit you down; look not aghast, I say.

He hath the falling sickness, and will oft

Faint on a sudden, as ye see. He lies

An hour as dead, and then awakes again

With nought amiss. Best take him out in quiet.

(To servants.) Carry him from the room.

Luc.Lift you his feet, Petronius.We two will take him.

Luc.Lift you his feet, Petronius.

We two will take him.

Ner.Let him be, I say.1660His servants will attend him. Return to table:We cannot spare you.

Ner.Let him be, I say.1660

His servants will attend him. Return to table:

We cannot spare you.

Par.(to Oct.)Honoured lady, be hopeful:For hath your noble brother e’er been takenLike this, he may recover.

Par.(to Oct.)Honoured lady, be hopeful:

For hath your noble brother e’er been taken

Like this, he may recover.

Oct.(to Par.)Never—Never! O never! he is dead! I knew it![Going.

Oct.(to Par.)Never—

Never! O never! he is dead! I knew it![Going.

Ner.(to Oct.) Heh, sit you down. What could you do, I pray?He will come round.

Ner.(to Oct.) Heh, sit you down. What could you do, I pray?

He will come round.

Oct.Oh! I will follow him.[Exit with servants who are carrying Brit.

Oct.Oh! I will follow him.

[Exit with servants who are carrying Brit.

Petr.(to Par.) How happened it?

Par.(to Petr.)He drank a draught of wineFresh mixed, and then fell back just as you saw.What think you?

Par.(to Petr.)He drank a draught of wine

Fresh mixed, and then fell back just as you saw.

What think you?

Petr.(to Par.) Think you ’twas aught?1670

Par.(to Luc.)What think you?

Luc.Impossible.

Dom.(aside). He is poisoned. Yet my sisterWas nothing privy to it. She is pale.

Dom.(aside). He is poisoned. Yet my sister

Was nothing privy to it. She is pale.

Ner.Come, sit you down, aunt: come, Petronius,Lucan, be seated. Let not the horrid sightUnwhet your appetites.

Ner.Come, sit you down, aunt: come, Petronius,

Lucan, be seated. Let not the horrid sight

Unwhet your appetites.

Petr.(to Luc.)That was no fit.[To Par.He is dead. What if ’twere poison? Where’s the drink?

Petr.(to Luc.)That was no fit.[To Par.

He is dead. What if ’twere poison? Where’s the drink?

Par.’Twas hurried out.

Luc.O God!

Ner.(to servts.) Serve out the wine.We all must need a bumper; ’tis most natural.I have known the mere revulsion to provoke1680In a strong man a seizure similarTo that which frighted him.

Ner.(to servts.) Serve out the wine.

We all must need a bumper; ’tis most natural.

I have known the mere revulsion to provoke

In a strong man a seizure similar

To that which frighted him.

Par.(aside). ’Twould not amaze me,Had he such drink to cheer him.[All refuse drink.

Par.(aside). ’Twould not amaze me,

Had he such drink to cheer him.[All refuse drink.

Pop.(to Nero).I will not drink.

Ner.From my cup.

Pop.Well, from thine.[Drinks.

Luc.(aside).He is self-betrayed.

Ner.Where were we?

Petr.At the point where Cæsar made meArbiter of his table. I shall askTo inaugurate my office.

Petr.At the point where Cæsar made me

Arbiter of his table. I shall ask

To inaugurate my office.

Ner.Do so, Petronius.

Petr.Then know you are all dismissed. Let all go home,And for the prince’s safety offer up[All rise.What vows ye may unto the gods. Myself,I set the example, and go first. Come, Lucan.[Going.

Petr.Then know you are all dismissed. Let all go home,

And for the prince’s safety offer up[All rise.

What vows ye may unto the gods. Myself,

I set the example, and go first. Come, Lucan.[Going.

Ner.Eh! eh! yet thus ’tis best. Good night, Petronius,1691Thou hast spoken well; may the gods hear thy prayers.I wish you all good night.

Ner.Eh! eh! yet thus ’tis best. Good night, Petronius,1691

Thou hast spoken well; may the gods hear thy prayers.

I wish you all good night.

In disorder of going curtain falls.

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