Chapter 24

FOOTNOTES:[55]Reading,mariti mutua.[56]Reading,saevo.ACT IISeneca[alone]: Why hast thou, potent Fate, with flattering looks,Exalted me, contented with my lot,That so from this great height I might descendWith heavier fall, and wider prospect see380Of deadly fears? Ah, better was I, hidFar from the stinging lash of envy's tongue,Amid the lonely crags of Corsica.There was my spirit free to act at will,Was master of itself, had time to thinkAnd meditate at length each favorite theme.Oh, what delight, than which none greater is,385Of all that mother nature hath produced,To watch the heavens, the bright sun's sacred rounds,The heavenly movements and the changing night,The moon's full orb with wandering stars begirt,The far-effulgent glory of the sky!390And is it growing old, this structure vast,Doomed to return to groping nothingness?Then must that final doomsday be at hand,That shall by heaven's fall o'erwhelm a raceSo impious, that thus the world may seeA newer race of men, a better stock,395Which once the golden reign of Saturn knew.Then virgin Justice, holy child of heaven,In mercy ruled the world; the race of menKnew naught of war, the trumpet's savage blare,400The clang of arms; not yet were cities hedgedWith ponderous walls; the way was free to all,And free to all the use of everything.The earth, untilled, spread wide her fertile lap,405The happy mother of a pious stock.Then rose another race of sterner mold;Another yet to curious arts inclined,But pious still; a fourth of restless mood,Which lusted to pursue the savage beasts,410To draw the fishes from their sheltering wavesWith net or slender pole, to snare the birds,To force the headstrong bullocks to endureThe bondage of the yoke, to plow the earthWhich never yet had felt the share's deep wound,And which in pain and grief now hid her fruitsWithin her sacred bosom's safer hold.415Now deep within the bowels of the earthDid that debased, unfilial age intrude;And thence it dug the deadly iron and gold,And soon it armed its savage hands for war.It fixed the bounds of realms, constructed towns,420Fought for its own abodes, or threat'ning stroveTo plunder those of others as a prize.Then did abandoned Justice, heavenly maid,In terror flee the earth, the bestial waysOf men, their hands with bloody slaughter stained,And, fixed in heaven, now shines among the stars.425Then lust of war increased, and greed for gold,Throughout the world; and luxury arose,That deadliest of evils, luring pest,To whose fell powers new strength and force were givenBy custom long observed, and precedentOf evil into worser evil led.This flood of vice, through many ages dammed,430In ours has burst its bounds and overflowed.By this dire age we're fairly overwhelmed—An age when crime sits regnant on the throne,Impiety stalks raging, unrestrained;Foul lust, with all unbridled power, is queen,And luxury long since with greedy handsHas snatched the boundless riches of the world,435That she with equal greed may squander them.[EnterNero,followed by aPrefect.]But see, with frenzied step and savage mien,The prince approaches. How I fear his will.Nero[toPrefect]: Speed my commands: send forth a messengerWho straight shall bring me here the severed headsOf Plautus and of Sulla.Prefect:Good, my lord;Without delay I'll speed me to the camp.[Exit.]Seneca:One should not rashly judge against his friends.440Nero:Let him be just whose heart is free from fear.Seneca:But mercy is a sovereign cure for fear.Nero:A ruler's part is to destroy his foes.Seneca:A ruler's better part, to save his friends.Nero:A mild old man's advice is fit for boys.445Seneca:Still more does hot young manhood need the rein—Nero:I deem that at this age we're wise enough.Seneca:That on thy deed the heavenly gods may smile.Nero:Thou fool, shall I fear gods myself can make?Seneca:Fear this the more, that so great power is thine.450Nero:My royal fortune grants all things to me.Seneca:But trust her cautiously; she may deceive.Nero:A fool is he who does not what he may.Seneca:To do, not what he may, but ought, wins praise.Nero:The crowd spurns sluggish men.455Seneca:The hated, slays.Nero:Yet swords protect a prince.Seneca:Still better, faith.Nero:A Caesar should be feared.Seneca:And more be loved.Nero:But men must fear.Seneca:Enforced commands are hard.Nero:Let them obey our laws.Seneca:Make better laws—Nero:I'll be the judge.460Seneca:Which all men may approve.Nero:The sword shall force respect.Seneca:May heaven forbid!Nero:Shall I then tamely let them seek my blood,That suddenly despised and unavenged,I may be taken off? Though exiled far,The stubborn spirits are not broken yetOf Plautus and of Sulla. Still their rage465Persistent spurs their friends to seek my death;For still have they the people's love in Rome,Which ever nourishes the exile's hopes.Then let the sword remove my enemies;470My hateful wife shall die, and follow him,That brother whom she loves. The high must fall.Seneca:How fair a thing it is to be the firstAmong great men, to think for fatherland,To spare the weak, to hold the hand of powerFrom deeds of blood, to give wrath time to think,Give rest to a weary world, peace to the age.475This is the noblest part; by this high pathIs heaven sought. So did Augustus first,The father of his country, gain the stars,And as a god is worshiped at the shrines.Yet he was long by adverse fortune tossedOn land and sea, in battle's deadly chance,480Until his father's foes he recompensed.But fortune hath to thee in peaceful guiseBent her divinity; with unstained handHath she the reins of government bestowed,And given world-dominion to thy nod.Sour hate is overcome, and in its stead485Is filial harmony; the senate, knights,All orders yield obedience to thy will;For in the fathers' judgment and the prayersOf humbler folk, thou art the arbiterOf peace, the god of human destinies,Ordained to rule the world by right divine.Thy country's father thou. This sacred name490Doth suppliant Rome beseech thee to preserve,And doth commend her citizens to thee.Nero:It is the gift of heaven that haughty Rome,Her people, and her senate bow to me,And that my terror doth extort those prayersAnd servile words from their unwilling lips.To save the citizens! seditious men,Who ever 'gainst their land and prince conspire,495Puffed up with pride of race—sheer madness that,When all my enemies one word of mineCan doom to death. Base Brutus raised his handTo slay that prince from whom he had his all;And he, who never 'mid the shock of armsHad been o'ercome, the world's great conqueror,500Who trod, a very Jove, the lofty pathsOf honor, he was slain by impious hands—Ofcitizens! What streams of blood hath Rome,So often rent by civil strife, beheld!That very saint of thine, Augustus' self,505Who, as thou said'st but now, did merit heavenBy piety—how many noble menDid he destroy, in lusty youth, in age,At home, abroad, when, spurred by mortal fear,They fled their household gods and that fell swordOf the Triumvirate, consigned to deathUpon those mindful tablets' fatal lists.The grieving parents saw their severed heads510Upon the rostra set, but dared not weepTheir hapless sons; the forum reeked with blood,And gore down all those rotting faces dripped.Nor this the end of slaughter and of death:Long did the plains of grim Philippi feed515The ravenous birds and prowling beasts of prey;While ships and men, in deadly conflict met,Beneath Sicilia's waters were engulfed.The whole world trembled with the shock of arms;And now, when all was lost, with fleeing ships,520That mighty leader sought the distant Nile,Doomed soon himself to perish there. And thus,Once more incestuous Egypt drank the bloodOf Rome's great captains. Now his flitting shadeIs hovering there; and there is civil strife,So long and impious, at last interred.Now did the weary victor sheathe his sword,All blunted with the savage blows he gave,525And held his empire with the rein of fear.He lived in safety 'neath the ample shieldOf loyal guards; and when his end was come,The pious mandate of his son proclaimedHim god, and at the temples' sacred shrinesWas he adored. So shall the stars expectMy godhead too, if first I seize and slay530With sword relentless all who bear me hate,And on a worthy offspring found my house.Seneca:But she will fill thy house with noble sons,That heaven-born glory of the Claudian stock,Who by the will of fate was wed to thee,As Juno to her brother Jove was given.535Nero:A child of hers would stain my noble line,For she herself was of a harlot born;And more—her heart was never linked to me.Seneca:In tender years is faith not manifest,When love, by shame o'ercome, conceals its fires.Nero:This I myself long trusted, but in vain,540Though she was clearly of unloving heart,And every look betrayed her hate of me.At length, in angry grief, I sought revenge;And I have now a worthy wife obtained,In race and beauty blessed, before whose charms545Minerva, Venus, Juno—all would bow.Seneca:But honor, wifely faith, and modesty—These should the husband seek, for these alone,The priceless treasures of the heart and soul,Remain perpetual; but beauty's flowerDoth fade and languish with each passing day.550Nero:On her has heaven all its charms bestowed,And fate has given her from her birth to me.Seneca:But love will fail; do not too rashly trust.Nero:Shall he give way, that tyrant of the skies,Whom Jove, the Thunderer, cannot remove,Who lords it over savage seas, the realms555Of gloomy Dis, and draws the gods to earth?Seneca:'Tis by our human error that we paintLove as a god, wingéd, implacable,And arm his sacred hands with darts and bow,Assign him blazing torches, count him sonOf fostering Venus and of Vulcan. Nay,560But love is of the heart's compelling power,A fond and cozening passion of the soul;Of hot youth is it born, and in the lapOf ease and luxury, 'midst fortune's joys,Is fostered. But it sickens straight and diesWhen you no longer feed and fondle it.565Nero:I deem the primal source of life is this,The joy of love; and it can never die,Since by sweet love, which soothes e'en savage breasts,The human race is evermore renewed.This god shall bear for me the wedding torch,570And join me with Poppaea in his bonds.Seneca:The people's grief could scarce endure to seeThat marriage, nor would piety permit.Nero:Shall I alone avoid what all may do?Seneca:The state from loftiest souls expects the best.575Nero:I fain would see if, broken by my power,This rashly cherished favor will not yield.Seneca:'Tis better calmly to obey the state.Nero:Ill fares the state, when commons govern kings.Seneca:They justly chafe who pray without avail.580Nero:When prayers do not avail, should force be sought?Seneca:Rebuffs are hard.Nero:'Tis wrong to force a prince.Seneca:He should give way.Nero:Then rumor counts him forced.Seneca:Rumor's an empty thing.Nero:But harmful too.Seneca:She fears the strong.585Nero:But none the less maligns.Seneca:She soon can be o'ercome. But let the youth,The faith and chastity of this thy wife,The merits of her sainted sire prevailTo turn thee from thy will.Nero:Have done at last,For wearisome has thy insistence grown;One still may do what Seneca comdemns.And I myself have now too long delayed590The people's prayers for offspring to the throne.Tomorrow's morn her wedding day shall prove,Who bears within her womb my pledge of love.[Exeunt.]ACT IIIGhost of Agrippina[bearing a flaming torch]: Through cloven earth from Tartarus I come,To bring in bloody hands this torch of hellTo light these curséd rites; with such dire flames595Let this Poppaea wed my son, which soonHis mother's grief and vengeful hand shall turnTo funeral fires. And ever 'mid the shadesMy impious murder in my memory dwells,A heavy weight upon my grieving soulStill unavenged; for, Oh, ingratitudeHe gave me in return for all my gifts,600E'en for the gift of empire did he giveA murderous ship designed to work my death.I would have wept my comrades' plight, and more,My son's most cruel deed: no time for tearsWas given, but even higher did he heap605His sum of crime. Though I escaped the sea,I felt the keen sword's thrust, and, with my bloodThe very gods defiling, poured my soulIn anguish forth. But even yet his hateWas not appeased. Against my very nameThe tyrant raged; my merits he obscured;610My statues, my inscriptions, honors—all,On pain of death he bade to be destroyedThroughout the world—that world my hapless love,To my own direful punishment, had givenTo be by him, an untried boy, controlled.And now my murdered husband's angry ghostShakes vengeful torches in my guilty face,615Insistent, threat'ning; blames his death on me,His murdered son, and loud demands that nowThe guilty cause be given up. Have done:He shall be given, and that right speedily.Avenging furies for his impious headAre planning even now a worthy fate:620Base flight and blows, and fearful sufferings,By which the raging thirst of TantalusHe shall surpass; the cruel, endless toilOf Sisyphus; the pain that Tityus feels,And the dread, racking anguish of the wheelOn which Ixion's whirling limbs are stretched.Let gold and marble deck his palace walls;Let arméd guards protect him; let the world625Be beggared that its treasures vast may flowInto his lap; let suppliant Parthians bendTo kiss his hands, and bring rich offerings:The day and hour will come when for his crimesHis guilty soul shall full atonement make,630When to his enemies he shall be given,Deserted and destroyed and stripped of all.Oh, to what end my labors and my prayers?Why did thy frenzied madness, O my son,And fate impel thee to such depths of crimeThat e'en thy mother's wrath, whom thou didst slay,635Is all too small to match her sufferings?Oh, would that, ere I brought thee forth to light,And suckled thee, my vitals had been rentBy savage beasts! Then senseless, innocent,And mine wouldst thou have perished; joined to meWouldst thou forever see the quiet seats640Of this abode of souls, thy mighty sire,And grandsires too, those men of glorious name,Whom now perpetual shame and grief awaitBecause of thee, thou monster, and of me.But why delay in hell to hide my face,Since I have proved a curse to all my race?645[Vanishes.]Octavia[to theChorusin deprecation of their grief because of her divorce]: Restrain your tears; put on a face of joy,As on a festal day, lest this your loveAnd care for me should stir the royal wrath,And I be cause of suffering to you.650This wound is not the first my heart has felt;Far worse have I endured; but all shall end,Perchance in death, before this day is done.No more upon my brutal husband's faceShall I be forced to look; that hateful couch,655Long since consigned to slavish uses, base,I shall behold no more.For now Augustus' sister shall I be,And not his wife. But Oh, be far from meAll cruel punishments and fear of death.660Poor, foolish girl! and canst thou hope for this?Bethink thee of his former sins—and hope.Nay, he has spared thy wretched life till now,That thou mayst at his marriage altars fall.But why so often turn thy streaming eyes665Upon thy home? Now speed thy steps away,And leave this bloody prince's hall for aye.Chorus:Now dawns at last the day we long have fearedAnd talked of. Lo, our Claudia, driven forth670By cruel Nero's threats, leaves that abodeWhich even now Poppaea calls her own;While we must sit and grieve with sluggish woe,By heavy fear oppressed.675Where is that Roman people's manhood now,Which once the pride of mighty leaders crushed,Gave righteous laws to an unconquered land,Gave powers at will to worthy citizens,Made peace and war, fierce nations overcame,680And held in dungeons dark their captive kings?Behold, on every side our eyes are grievedBy this Poppaea's gleaming statues joinedWith Nero's images—a shameful sight.685Come, overturn them with indignant hands,Too like in feature to her living face.And her we'll drag from off that royal couch;And then, with flaming brand and deadly sword,Attack the princely palace of her lord.ACT IVNurse[toPoppaea,who appears, distraught, coming out of her chamber]: Why dost thou from thy husband's chamber come,690Dear child, with hurried step and troubled face?Why dost thou seek a lonely place to weep?For surely has the day we long have soughtWith prayers and promised victims come at last.Thou hast thy Caesar, firmly joined to theeBy ties of marriage, whom thy beauty won,695Whom Venus gave to thee in bonds of love,Though Seneca despised and flouted her.How beautiful, upon the banquet couchReclining in the palace, didst thou seem!The senate viewed thy beauty in amazeWhen thou didst offer incense to the gods,700And sprinkle wine upon the sacred shrines,Thy head the while with gauzy purple veiled.And close beside thee was thy lord himself;Amid the favoring plaudits of the crowdHe walked majestic, in his look and mienProclaiming all his pride and joy in thee.705So did the noble Peleus lead his brideEmerging from the ocean's snowy foam,Whose wedding feast the heavenly gods adorned,With equal joy the sea divinities.What sudden cause has clouded o'er thy face?710Tell me, what mean thy pallor and thy tears!Poppaea:Dear nurse, this night I had a dreadful dream;And even now, as I remember it,My mind is troubled and my senses fail.For when the joyful day had sunk to rest,And in the darkened sky the stars appeared,715I lay asleep within my Nero's arms.But that sweet sleep I could not long enjoy;For suddenly a grieving crowd appearedTo throng my chamber—Roman matrons they,With hair disheveled and loud cries of woe.720Then 'midst the oft-repeated, strident blastsOf trumpets, there appeared my husband's mother,And shook before my face with threat'ning mienA bloody torch. Compelled by present fear,I followed her; when suddenly the earth725Seemed rent asunder to its lowest depths.Headlong to these I plunged, and even thereIn wonder I beheld my wedding couch,Whereon I sank in utter weariness.Then with a throng of followers I sawMy son and former husband drawing near.Straightway Crispinus hastened to my arms,730And on my lips his eager kisses fell:When suddenly within that chamber burstMy lord the king with frantic, hurrying steps,And plunged his sword into that other's throat.A mighty terror siezed me, and at lastIt roused me from my sleep. I started upWith trembling limbs and wildly beating heart.735Long was I speechless from that haunting fear,Until thy fond affection gave me tongue.Why do the ghosts of hades threaten me?Or why did I behold my husband's blood?Nurse:All things which occupy the waking[57]mind,740Some subtle power, swift working, weaves againInto our web of dreams. Small wonder then,Thy sleeping thoughts were filled with marriage bedsAnd husbands, when thy newly mated lordHeld thee in his embrace. Does it seem strangeThat thou shouldst dream tonight of sounds of woe,745Of breasts hard beaten and of streaming hair?Octavia's departure did they mournWithin her brother's and her father's house.The torch which thou didst follow, borne aloftBy Agrippina's hand, is but a signThat hate shall win for thee a mighty name.Thy marriage couch, in realms infernal seen,750Portends a lasting state of wedded joy.Since in Crispinus' neck the sword was sheathed,Believe that no more wars thy lord shall wage,But hide his sword within the breast of peace.Take heart again, recall thy joys, I pray,Throw off thy fears, and to thy couch return.755Poppaea:Nay, rather will I seek the sacred shrines,And there make sacrifice unto the gods,That they avert these threats of night and sleep,And turn my terrors all upon my foes.Do thou pray for me and the gods implore760That in this happy state I may endure.[ExeuntPoppaeaandNurse.]Chorus[of Roman women in sympathy withPoppaea]: If babbling rumor's tales of Jove,His secret joys in mortal love,Are true, he once, in plumage dressed,Was to the lovely Leda pressed;765And as a savage bull he boreEuropa from her native shore:But should he once thy form, Poppaea, see,He would leave his shining stars to dwell with thee.For thou than Leda many fold770Art fairer, or that maid of oldWhom Jove embraced in showers of gold.Let Sparta boast her lovely dame,Who, as his prize, to Paris came:Though Helen's beauty drove the world to arms,775She still must yield to our Poppaea's charms.[EnterMessenger.]But who comes here with hurried step and wild?What tidings bears he in his heaving breast?Messenger:Whoever guards our noble prince's house,780Let him defend it from the people's rage.Behold, the prefects lead their men in haste,To save the city from the furious mobWhose reckless passion grows, unchecked by fear.Chorus:What is the madness that inflames their hearts?785Messenger:The people for their loved OctaviaAre wild with rage and grief; and now in throngsAre rushing forth in mood for any deed.Chorus:What are they bent to do, or with what plan?Messenger:To give Octavia back her father's house,Her brother's bed, and her due share of empire.790Chorus:But these Poppaea holds as Nero's wife.Messenger:'Tis even she 'gainst whom the people's rageBurns most persistent, and to reckless deedsIs driven headlong on. Whate'er they see,Of noble marble wrought, or gleaming bronze,The hated image of Poppaea's face,795They cast it to the earth with wanton handsAnd crushing bars. The shattered parts they dragAlong the streets, and with insulting heelDeep in the filthy mud they trample them.These savage deeds are mingled with such wordsAs I should fear to utter in your ears.800Soon will they hedge the royal house with flames,Unless the prince his new-made wife give upTo sate the people's wrath, and then restoreTo noble Claudia her father's house.That he himself may know these threatened deeds,I'll haste to tell him as the prefect bade.805[Exit.]Chorus:Why vainly strive against the powers above?For Cupid's weapons are invincible.Your puny fires by those fierce flames he'll dimBy which he oft has quenched the bolts of Jove,And brought the Thunderer captive from the sky.810For this offense you shall dire forfeit pay,E'en with your blood; for hot of wrath is he,And may not be o'ercome. At his commandDid fierce Achilles strike the peaceful lyre;He forced the Greeks and Agamemnon proud815To do his will. Illustrious cities, too,And Priam's realm he utterly destroyed.And now my mind in fear awaits to seeWhat Cupid's cruel penalties will be.FOOTNOTES:[57]Reading,intentus.ACT VNero[seated in a room of his palace]: Too slow my soldiers' hands, too mild my wrath,820When citizens have dared such crimes as these.Those torches that they kindled 'gainst their princeTheir blood shall quench; and Rome, who bore such men,Shall be bespattered with her people's gore.Yet death is far too light a punishment825For such atrocities; this impious mobShall suffer worse than death. But she, my wifeAnd sister, whom I hate with deadly fear,For whose sole sake the people rage at me,Shall give her life at last to sate my grief,And quench my anger in her flowing blood.830Soon shall my flames enwrap the city's walls,And in the ruins of her falling homesThe people shall be buried; squalid want,Dire hunger, grief-all these shall they endure.Too fat upon the blessings of our ageHas this vile mob become, and know not how835To bear our clemency and relish peace;But, rash and reckless, are they ever borneBy shifting tides of passion to their hurt.They must be held in check by suffering,Be ever pressed beneath the heavy yoke,Lest once again they dare assail the throne,840And to the august features of my wifeDare lift again their vulgar eyes. O'erawedBy fear of punishment must they be taughtTo yield obedience to their prince's nod.But here I see the man whose loyaltyHas made him captain of my royal guards.845[EnterPrefect.]Prefect:The people's rage by slaughter of a few,Who most resistance made is overcome.Nero:Is that enough? Was that my word to thee?"Is overcome?" Where then is my revenge?Prefect:The guilty leaders of the mob are dead.850Nero:Nay, but the mob itself, which dared to assailMy house with flames, to dictate laws to me,To drag my noble wife from off my bed,And with unhallowed hands and angry threatsTo affront her majesty—are they unscathed?855Prefect:Shall angry grief decide their punishment?Nero:It shall—whose fame no future age shall dim.Prefect:Which neither wrath nor fear shall moderate?[58]Nero:She first shall feel my wrath who merits it.Prefect:Tell whom thou mean'st. My hand shall spare her not.860Nero:My wrath demands my guilty sister's death.Prefect:Benumbing horror holds me in its grasp.Nero:Wilt not obey my word?Prefect:Why question that?Nero:Because thou spar'st my foe.Prefect:A woman, foe?Nero:If she be criminal.865Prefect:But what her crime?Nero:The people's rage.Prefect:But who can check their rage?Nero:The one who fanned its flame.Prefect:But who that one?Nero:A woman she, to whom an evil heartHath nature given, a soul to fraud inclined.Prefect:But not the power to act.870Nero:That she may beWithout the power to act, that present fearMay break her strength, let punishment at once,Too long delayed, crush out her guilty life.Have done at once with arguments and prayers,And do my royal bidding: let her sailTo some far distant shore and there be slain,875That thus at last my fears may be at rest.[Exeunt.]Chorus[attached toOctavia]: Oh, dire and deadly has the people's loveTo many proved, which fills their swelling sailsWith favoring breeze, and bears them out to sea;But soon its vigor languishes and dies,880And leaves them to the mercy of the deep.The wretched mother of the Gracchi weptHer murdered sons, who, though of noble blood,Far famed for eloquence and piety,885Stout-hearted, learnéd in defense of law,Were brought to ruin by the people's loveAnd popular renown. And Livius, theeTo equal fate did fickle fortune give,Who found no safety in thy lictors' rods,No refuge in thy home. But grief forbidsTo tell more instances. This hapless girl,890To whom but now the citizens decreedThe restoration of her fatherland,Her home, her brother's couch, is dragged awayIn tears and misery to punishment,With citizens consenting to her death!895Oh, blesséd poverty, content to hideBeneath the refuge of a lowly roof!For lofty homes, to fame and fortune known,By storms are blasted and by fate o'erthrown![EnterOctaviain the custody of the palace guards, who are dragging her roughly out into the street.]

FOOTNOTES:[55]Reading,mariti mutua.[56]Reading,saevo.

[55]Reading,mariti mutua.

[56]Reading,saevo.

Seneca[alone]: Why hast thou, potent Fate, with flattering looks,Exalted me, contented with my lot,That so from this great height I might descendWith heavier fall, and wider prospect see380Of deadly fears? Ah, better was I, hidFar from the stinging lash of envy's tongue,Amid the lonely crags of Corsica.There was my spirit free to act at will,Was master of itself, had time to thinkAnd meditate at length each favorite theme.Oh, what delight, than which none greater is,385Of all that mother nature hath produced,To watch the heavens, the bright sun's sacred rounds,The heavenly movements and the changing night,The moon's full orb with wandering stars begirt,The far-effulgent glory of the sky!390And is it growing old, this structure vast,Doomed to return to groping nothingness?Then must that final doomsday be at hand,That shall by heaven's fall o'erwhelm a raceSo impious, that thus the world may seeA newer race of men, a better stock,395Which once the golden reign of Saturn knew.Then virgin Justice, holy child of heaven,In mercy ruled the world; the race of menKnew naught of war, the trumpet's savage blare,400The clang of arms; not yet were cities hedgedWith ponderous walls; the way was free to all,And free to all the use of everything.The earth, untilled, spread wide her fertile lap,405The happy mother of a pious stock.Then rose another race of sterner mold;Another yet to curious arts inclined,But pious still; a fourth of restless mood,Which lusted to pursue the savage beasts,410To draw the fishes from their sheltering wavesWith net or slender pole, to snare the birds,To force the headstrong bullocks to endureThe bondage of the yoke, to plow the earthWhich never yet had felt the share's deep wound,And which in pain and grief now hid her fruitsWithin her sacred bosom's safer hold.415Now deep within the bowels of the earthDid that debased, unfilial age intrude;And thence it dug the deadly iron and gold,And soon it armed its savage hands for war.It fixed the bounds of realms, constructed towns,420Fought for its own abodes, or threat'ning stroveTo plunder those of others as a prize.Then did abandoned Justice, heavenly maid,In terror flee the earth, the bestial waysOf men, their hands with bloody slaughter stained,And, fixed in heaven, now shines among the stars.425Then lust of war increased, and greed for gold,Throughout the world; and luxury arose,That deadliest of evils, luring pest,To whose fell powers new strength and force were givenBy custom long observed, and precedentOf evil into worser evil led.This flood of vice, through many ages dammed,430In ours has burst its bounds and overflowed.By this dire age we're fairly overwhelmed—An age when crime sits regnant on the throne,Impiety stalks raging, unrestrained;Foul lust, with all unbridled power, is queen,And luxury long since with greedy handsHas snatched the boundless riches of the world,435That she with equal greed may squander them.[EnterNero,followed by aPrefect.]But see, with frenzied step and savage mien,The prince approaches. How I fear his will.Nero[toPrefect]: Speed my commands: send forth a messengerWho straight shall bring me here the severed headsOf Plautus and of Sulla.Prefect:Good, my lord;Without delay I'll speed me to the camp.

Seneca[alone]: Why hast thou, potent Fate, with flattering looks,

Exalted me, contented with my lot,

That so from this great height I might descend

With heavier fall, and wider prospect see380

Of deadly fears? Ah, better was I, hid

Far from the stinging lash of envy's tongue,

Amid the lonely crags of Corsica.

There was my spirit free to act at will,

Was master of itself, had time to think

And meditate at length each favorite theme.

Oh, what delight, than which none greater is,385

Of all that mother nature hath produced,

To watch the heavens, the bright sun's sacred rounds,

The heavenly movements and the changing night,

The moon's full orb with wandering stars begirt,

The far-effulgent glory of the sky!390

And is it growing old, this structure vast,

Doomed to return to groping nothingness?

Then must that final doomsday be at hand,

That shall by heaven's fall o'erwhelm a race

So impious, that thus the world may see

A newer race of men, a better stock,395

Which once the golden reign of Saturn knew.

Then virgin Justice, holy child of heaven,

In mercy ruled the world; the race of men

Knew naught of war, the trumpet's savage blare,400

The clang of arms; not yet were cities hedged

With ponderous walls; the way was free to all,

And free to all the use of everything.

The earth, untilled, spread wide her fertile lap,405

The happy mother of a pious stock.

Then rose another race of sterner mold;

Another yet to curious arts inclined,

But pious still; a fourth of restless mood,

Which lusted to pursue the savage beasts,410

To draw the fishes from their sheltering waves

With net or slender pole, to snare the birds,

To force the headstrong bullocks to endure

The bondage of the yoke, to plow the earth

Which never yet had felt the share's deep wound,

And which in pain and grief now hid her fruits

Within her sacred bosom's safer hold.415

Now deep within the bowels of the earth

Did that debased, unfilial age intrude;

And thence it dug the deadly iron and gold,

And soon it armed its savage hands for war.

It fixed the bounds of realms, constructed towns,420

Fought for its own abodes, or threat'ning strove

To plunder those of others as a prize.

Then did abandoned Justice, heavenly maid,

In terror flee the earth, the bestial ways

Of men, their hands with bloody slaughter stained,

And, fixed in heaven, now shines among the stars.425

Then lust of war increased, and greed for gold,

Throughout the world; and luxury arose,

That deadliest of evils, luring pest,

To whose fell powers new strength and force were given

By custom long observed, and precedent

Of evil into worser evil led.

This flood of vice, through many ages dammed,430

In ours has burst its bounds and overflowed.

By this dire age we're fairly overwhelmed—

An age when crime sits regnant on the throne,

Impiety stalks raging, unrestrained;

Foul lust, with all unbridled power, is queen,

And luxury long since with greedy hands

Has snatched the boundless riches of the world,435

That she with equal greed may squander them.

[EnterNero,followed by aPrefect.]

But see, with frenzied step and savage mien,

The prince approaches. How I fear his will.

Nero[toPrefect]: Speed my commands: send forth a messengerWho straight shall bring me here the severed headsOf Plautus and of Sulla.

Nero[toPrefect]: Speed my commands: send forth a messenger

Who straight shall bring me here the severed heads

Of Plautus and of Sulla.

Prefect:Good, my lord;Without delay I'll speed me to the camp.

Prefect:Good, my lord;

Without delay I'll speed me to the camp.

[Exit.]

Seneca:One should not rashly judge against his friends.440Nero:Let him be just whose heart is free from fear.Seneca:But mercy is a sovereign cure for fear.Nero:A ruler's part is to destroy his foes.Seneca:A ruler's better part, to save his friends.Nero:A mild old man's advice is fit for boys.445Seneca:Still more does hot young manhood need the rein—Nero:I deem that at this age we're wise enough.Seneca:That on thy deed the heavenly gods may smile.Nero:Thou fool, shall I fear gods myself can make?Seneca:Fear this the more, that so great power is thine.450Nero:My royal fortune grants all things to me.Seneca:But trust her cautiously; she may deceive.Nero:A fool is he who does not what he may.Seneca:To do, not what he may, but ought, wins praise.Nero:The crowd spurns sluggish men.455Seneca:The hated, slays.Nero:Yet swords protect a prince.Seneca:Still better, faith.Nero:A Caesar should be feared.Seneca:And more be loved.Nero:But men must fear.Seneca:Enforced commands are hard.Nero:Let them obey our laws.Seneca:Make better laws—Nero:I'll be the judge.460Seneca:Which all men may approve.Nero:The sword shall force respect.Seneca:May heaven forbid!Nero:Shall I then tamely let them seek my blood,That suddenly despised and unavenged,I may be taken off? Though exiled far,The stubborn spirits are not broken yetOf Plautus and of Sulla. Still their rage465Persistent spurs their friends to seek my death;For still have they the people's love in Rome,Which ever nourishes the exile's hopes.Then let the sword remove my enemies;470My hateful wife shall die, and follow him,That brother whom she loves. The high must fall.Seneca:How fair a thing it is to be the firstAmong great men, to think for fatherland,To spare the weak, to hold the hand of powerFrom deeds of blood, to give wrath time to think,Give rest to a weary world, peace to the age.475This is the noblest part; by this high pathIs heaven sought. So did Augustus first,The father of his country, gain the stars,And as a god is worshiped at the shrines.Yet he was long by adverse fortune tossedOn land and sea, in battle's deadly chance,480Until his father's foes he recompensed.But fortune hath to thee in peaceful guiseBent her divinity; with unstained handHath she the reins of government bestowed,And given world-dominion to thy nod.Sour hate is overcome, and in its stead485Is filial harmony; the senate, knights,All orders yield obedience to thy will;For in the fathers' judgment and the prayersOf humbler folk, thou art the arbiterOf peace, the god of human destinies,Ordained to rule the world by right divine.Thy country's father thou. This sacred name490Doth suppliant Rome beseech thee to preserve,And doth commend her citizens to thee.Nero:It is the gift of heaven that haughty Rome,Her people, and her senate bow to me,And that my terror doth extort those prayersAnd servile words from their unwilling lips.To save the citizens! seditious men,Who ever 'gainst their land and prince conspire,495Puffed up with pride of race—sheer madness that,When all my enemies one word of mineCan doom to death. Base Brutus raised his handTo slay that prince from whom he had his all;And he, who never 'mid the shock of armsHad been o'ercome, the world's great conqueror,500Who trod, a very Jove, the lofty pathsOf honor, he was slain by impious hands—Ofcitizens! What streams of blood hath Rome,So often rent by civil strife, beheld!That very saint of thine, Augustus' self,505Who, as thou said'st but now, did merit heavenBy piety—how many noble menDid he destroy, in lusty youth, in age,At home, abroad, when, spurred by mortal fear,They fled their household gods and that fell swordOf the Triumvirate, consigned to deathUpon those mindful tablets' fatal lists.The grieving parents saw their severed heads510Upon the rostra set, but dared not weepTheir hapless sons; the forum reeked with blood,And gore down all those rotting faces dripped.Nor this the end of slaughter and of death:Long did the plains of grim Philippi feed515The ravenous birds and prowling beasts of prey;While ships and men, in deadly conflict met,Beneath Sicilia's waters were engulfed.The whole world trembled with the shock of arms;And now, when all was lost, with fleeing ships,520That mighty leader sought the distant Nile,Doomed soon himself to perish there. And thus,Once more incestuous Egypt drank the bloodOf Rome's great captains. Now his flitting shadeIs hovering there; and there is civil strife,So long and impious, at last interred.Now did the weary victor sheathe his sword,All blunted with the savage blows he gave,525And held his empire with the rein of fear.He lived in safety 'neath the ample shieldOf loyal guards; and when his end was come,The pious mandate of his son proclaimedHim god, and at the temples' sacred shrinesWas he adored. So shall the stars expectMy godhead too, if first I seize and slay530With sword relentless all who bear me hate,And on a worthy offspring found my house.Seneca:But she will fill thy house with noble sons,That heaven-born glory of the Claudian stock,Who by the will of fate was wed to thee,As Juno to her brother Jove was given.535Nero:A child of hers would stain my noble line,For she herself was of a harlot born;And more—her heart was never linked to me.Seneca:In tender years is faith not manifest,When love, by shame o'ercome, conceals its fires.Nero:This I myself long trusted, but in vain,540Though she was clearly of unloving heart,And every look betrayed her hate of me.At length, in angry grief, I sought revenge;And I have now a worthy wife obtained,In race and beauty blessed, before whose charms545Minerva, Venus, Juno—all would bow.Seneca:But honor, wifely faith, and modesty—These should the husband seek, for these alone,The priceless treasures of the heart and soul,Remain perpetual; but beauty's flowerDoth fade and languish with each passing day.550Nero:On her has heaven all its charms bestowed,And fate has given her from her birth to me.Seneca:But love will fail; do not too rashly trust.Nero:Shall he give way, that tyrant of the skies,Whom Jove, the Thunderer, cannot remove,Who lords it over savage seas, the realms555Of gloomy Dis, and draws the gods to earth?Seneca:'Tis by our human error that we paintLove as a god, wingéd, implacable,And arm his sacred hands with darts and bow,Assign him blazing torches, count him sonOf fostering Venus and of Vulcan. Nay,560But love is of the heart's compelling power,A fond and cozening passion of the soul;Of hot youth is it born, and in the lapOf ease and luxury, 'midst fortune's joys,Is fostered. But it sickens straight and diesWhen you no longer feed and fondle it.565Nero:I deem the primal source of life is this,The joy of love; and it can never die,Since by sweet love, which soothes e'en savage breasts,The human race is evermore renewed.This god shall bear for me the wedding torch,570And join me with Poppaea in his bonds.Seneca:The people's grief could scarce endure to seeThat marriage, nor would piety permit.Nero:Shall I alone avoid what all may do?Seneca:The state from loftiest souls expects the best.575Nero:I fain would see if, broken by my power,This rashly cherished favor will not yield.Seneca:'Tis better calmly to obey the state.Nero:Ill fares the state, when commons govern kings.Seneca:They justly chafe who pray without avail.580Nero:When prayers do not avail, should force be sought?Seneca:Rebuffs are hard.Nero:'Tis wrong to force a prince.Seneca:He should give way.Nero:Then rumor counts him forced.Seneca:Rumor's an empty thing.Nero:But harmful too.Seneca:She fears the strong.585Nero:But none the less maligns.Seneca:She soon can be o'ercome. But let the youth,The faith and chastity of this thy wife,The merits of her sainted sire prevailTo turn thee from thy will.Nero:Have done at last,For wearisome has thy insistence grown;One still may do what Seneca comdemns.And I myself have now too long delayed590The people's prayers for offspring to the throne.Tomorrow's morn her wedding day shall prove,Who bears within her womb my pledge of love.

Seneca:One should not rashly judge against his friends.440

Nero:Let him be just whose heart is free from fear.

Seneca:But mercy is a sovereign cure for fear.

Nero:A ruler's part is to destroy his foes.

Seneca:A ruler's better part, to save his friends.

Nero:A mild old man's advice is fit for boys.445

Seneca:Still more does hot young manhood need the rein—

Nero:I deem that at this age we're wise enough.

Seneca:That on thy deed the heavenly gods may smile.

Nero:Thou fool, shall I fear gods myself can make?

Seneca:Fear this the more, that so great power is thine.450

Nero:My royal fortune grants all things to me.

Seneca:But trust her cautiously; she may deceive.

Nero:A fool is he who does not what he may.

Seneca:To do, not what he may, but ought, wins praise.

Nero:The crowd spurns sluggish men.455

Seneca:The hated, slays.

Nero:Yet swords protect a prince.

Seneca:Still better, faith.

Nero:A Caesar should be feared.

Seneca:And more be loved.

Nero:But men must fear.

Seneca:Enforced commands are hard.

Nero:Let them obey our laws.

Seneca:Make better laws—

Nero:I'll be the judge.460

Seneca:Which all men may approve.

Nero:The sword shall force respect.

Seneca:May heaven forbid!

Nero:Shall I then tamely let them seek my blood,That suddenly despised and unavenged,I may be taken off? Though exiled far,The stubborn spirits are not broken yetOf Plautus and of Sulla. Still their rage465Persistent spurs their friends to seek my death;For still have they the people's love in Rome,Which ever nourishes the exile's hopes.Then let the sword remove my enemies;470My hateful wife shall die, and follow him,That brother whom she loves. The high must fall.

Nero:Shall I then tamely let them seek my blood,

That suddenly despised and unavenged,

I may be taken off? Though exiled far,

The stubborn spirits are not broken yet

Of Plautus and of Sulla. Still their rage465

Persistent spurs their friends to seek my death;

For still have they the people's love in Rome,

Which ever nourishes the exile's hopes.

Then let the sword remove my enemies;470

My hateful wife shall die, and follow him,

That brother whom she loves. The high must fall.

Seneca:How fair a thing it is to be the firstAmong great men, to think for fatherland,To spare the weak, to hold the hand of powerFrom deeds of blood, to give wrath time to think,Give rest to a weary world, peace to the age.475This is the noblest part; by this high pathIs heaven sought. So did Augustus first,The father of his country, gain the stars,And as a god is worshiped at the shrines.Yet he was long by adverse fortune tossedOn land and sea, in battle's deadly chance,480Until his father's foes he recompensed.But fortune hath to thee in peaceful guiseBent her divinity; with unstained handHath she the reins of government bestowed,And given world-dominion to thy nod.Sour hate is overcome, and in its stead485Is filial harmony; the senate, knights,All orders yield obedience to thy will;For in the fathers' judgment and the prayersOf humbler folk, thou art the arbiterOf peace, the god of human destinies,Ordained to rule the world by right divine.Thy country's father thou. This sacred name490Doth suppliant Rome beseech thee to preserve,And doth commend her citizens to thee.

Seneca:How fair a thing it is to be the first

Among great men, to think for fatherland,

To spare the weak, to hold the hand of power

From deeds of blood, to give wrath time to think,

Give rest to a weary world, peace to the age.475

This is the noblest part; by this high path

Is heaven sought. So did Augustus first,

The father of his country, gain the stars,

And as a god is worshiped at the shrines.

Yet he was long by adverse fortune tossed

On land and sea, in battle's deadly chance,480

Until his father's foes he recompensed.

But fortune hath to thee in peaceful guise

Bent her divinity; with unstained hand

Hath she the reins of government bestowed,

And given world-dominion to thy nod.

Sour hate is overcome, and in its stead485

Is filial harmony; the senate, knights,

All orders yield obedience to thy will;

For in the fathers' judgment and the prayers

Of humbler folk, thou art the arbiter

Of peace, the god of human destinies,

Ordained to rule the world by right divine.

Thy country's father thou. This sacred name490

Doth suppliant Rome beseech thee to preserve,

And doth commend her citizens to thee.

Nero:It is the gift of heaven that haughty Rome,Her people, and her senate bow to me,And that my terror doth extort those prayersAnd servile words from their unwilling lips.To save the citizens! seditious men,Who ever 'gainst their land and prince conspire,495Puffed up with pride of race—sheer madness that,When all my enemies one word of mineCan doom to death. Base Brutus raised his handTo slay that prince from whom he had his all;And he, who never 'mid the shock of armsHad been o'ercome, the world's great conqueror,500Who trod, a very Jove, the lofty pathsOf honor, he was slain by impious hands—Ofcitizens! What streams of blood hath Rome,So often rent by civil strife, beheld!That very saint of thine, Augustus' self,505Who, as thou said'st but now, did merit heavenBy piety—how many noble menDid he destroy, in lusty youth, in age,At home, abroad, when, spurred by mortal fear,They fled their household gods and that fell swordOf the Triumvirate, consigned to deathUpon those mindful tablets' fatal lists.The grieving parents saw their severed heads510Upon the rostra set, but dared not weepTheir hapless sons; the forum reeked with blood,And gore down all those rotting faces dripped.Nor this the end of slaughter and of death:Long did the plains of grim Philippi feed515The ravenous birds and prowling beasts of prey;While ships and men, in deadly conflict met,Beneath Sicilia's waters were engulfed.The whole world trembled with the shock of arms;And now, when all was lost, with fleeing ships,520That mighty leader sought the distant Nile,Doomed soon himself to perish there. And thus,Once more incestuous Egypt drank the bloodOf Rome's great captains. Now his flitting shadeIs hovering there; and there is civil strife,So long and impious, at last interred.Now did the weary victor sheathe his sword,All blunted with the savage blows he gave,525And held his empire with the rein of fear.He lived in safety 'neath the ample shieldOf loyal guards; and when his end was come,The pious mandate of his son proclaimedHim god, and at the temples' sacred shrinesWas he adored. So shall the stars expectMy godhead too, if first I seize and slay530With sword relentless all who bear me hate,And on a worthy offspring found my house.

Nero:It is the gift of heaven that haughty Rome,

Her people, and her senate bow to me,

And that my terror doth extort those prayers

And servile words from their unwilling lips.

To save the citizens! seditious men,

Who ever 'gainst their land and prince conspire,495

Puffed up with pride of race—sheer madness that,

When all my enemies one word of mine

Can doom to death. Base Brutus raised his hand

To slay that prince from whom he had his all;

And he, who never 'mid the shock of arms

Had been o'ercome, the world's great conqueror,500

Who trod, a very Jove, the lofty paths

Of honor, he was slain by impious hands—

Ofcitizens! What streams of blood hath Rome,

So often rent by civil strife, beheld!

That very saint of thine, Augustus' self,505

Who, as thou said'st but now, did merit heaven

By piety—how many noble men

Did he destroy, in lusty youth, in age,

At home, abroad, when, spurred by mortal fear,

They fled their household gods and that fell sword

Of the Triumvirate, consigned to death

Upon those mindful tablets' fatal lists.

The grieving parents saw their severed heads510

Upon the rostra set, but dared not weep

Their hapless sons; the forum reeked with blood,

And gore down all those rotting faces dripped.

Nor this the end of slaughter and of death:

Long did the plains of grim Philippi feed515

The ravenous birds and prowling beasts of prey;

While ships and men, in deadly conflict met,

Beneath Sicilia's waters were engulfed.

The whole world trembled with the shock of arms;

And now, when all was lost, with fleeing ships,520

That mighty leader sought the distant Nile,

Doomed soon himself to perish there. And thus,

Once more incestuous Egypt drank the blood

Of Rome's great captains. Now his flitting shade

Is hovering there; and there is civil strife,

So long and impious, at last interred.

Now did the weary victor sheathe his sword,

All blunted with the savage blows he gave,525

And held his empire with the rein of fear.

He lived in safety 'neath the ample shield

Of loyal guards; and when his end was come,

The pious mandate of his son proclaimed

Him god, and at the temples' sacred shrines

Was he adored. So shall the stars expect

My godhead too, if first I seize and slay530

With sword relentless all who bear me hate,

And on a worthy offspring found my house.

Seneca:But she will fill thy house with noble sons,That heaven-born glory of the Claudian stock,Who by the will of fate was wed to thee,As Juno to her brother Jove was given.535

Seneca:But she will fill thy house with noble sons,

That heaven-born glory of the Claudian stock,

Who by the will of fate was wed to thee,

As Juno to her brother Jove was given.535

Nero:A child of hers would stain my noble line,For she herself was of a harlot born;And more—her heart was never linked to me.

Nero:A child of hers would stain my noble line,

For she herself was of a harlot born;

And more—her heart was never linked to me.

Seneca:In tender years is faith not manifest,When love, by shame o'ercome, conceals its fires.

Seneca:In tender years is faith not manifest,

When love, by shame o'ercome, conceals its fires.

Nero:This I myself long trusted, but in vain,540Though she was clearly of unloving heart,And every look betrayed her hate of me.At length, in angry grief, I sought revenge;And I have now a worthy wife obtained,In race and beauty blessed, before whose charms545Minerva, Venus, Juno—all would bow.

Nero:This I myself long trusted, but in vain,540

Though she was clearly of unloving heart,

And every look betrayed her hate of me.

At length, in angry grief, I sought revenge;

And I have now a worthy wife obtained,

In race and beauty blessed, before whose charms545

Minerva, Venus, Juno—all would bow.

Seneca:But honor, wifely faith, and modesty—These should the husband seek, for these alone,The priceless treasures of the heart and soul,Remain perpetual; but beauty's flowerDoth fade and languish with each passing day.550

Seneca:But honor, wifely faith, and modesty—

These should the husband seek, for these alone,

The priceless treasures of the heart and soul,

Remain perpetual; but beauty's flower

Doth fade and languish with each passing day.550

Nero:On her has heaven all its charms bestowed,And fate has given her from her birth to me.

Nero:On her has heaven all its charms bestowed,

And fate has given her from her birth to me.

Seneca:But love will fail; do not too rashly trust.

Nero:Shall he give way, that tyrant of the skies,Whom Jove, the Thunderer, cannot remove,Who lords it over savage seas, the realms555Of gloomy Dis, and draws the gods to earth?

Nero:Shall he give way, that tyrant of the skies,

Whom Jove, the Thunderer, cannot remove,

Who lords it over savage seas, the realms555

Of gloomy Dis, and draws the gods to earth?

Seneca:'Tis by our human error that we paintLove as a god, wingéd, implacable,And arm his sacred hands with darts and bow,Assign him blazing torches, count him sonOf fostering Venus and of Vulcan. Nay,560But love is of the heart's compelling power,A fond and cozening passion of the soul;Of hot youth is it born, and in the lapOf ease and luxury, 'midst fortune's joys,Is fostered. But it sickens straight and diesWhen you no longer feed and fondle it.565

Seneca:'Tis by our human error that we paint

Love as a god, wingéd, implacable,

And arm his sacred hands with darts and bow,

Assign him blazing torches, count him son

Of fostering Venus and of Vulcan. Nay,560

But love is of the heart's compelling power,

A fond and cozening passion of the soul;

Of hot youth is it born, and in the lap

Of ease and luxury, 'midst fortune's joys,

Is fostered. But it sickens straight and dies

When you no longer feed and fondle it.565

Nero:I deem the primal source of life is this,The joy of love; and it can never die,Since by sweet love, which soothes e'en savage breasts,The human race is evermore renewed.This god shall bear for me the wedding torch,570And join me with Poppaea in his bonds.

Nero:I deem the primal source of life is this,

The joy of love; and it can never die,

Since by sweet love, which soothes e'en savage breasts,

The human race is evermore renewed.

This god shall bear for me the wedding torch,570

And join me with Poppaea in his bonds.

Seneca:The people's grief could scarce endure to seeThat marriage, nor would piety permit.

Seneca:The people's grief could scarce endure to see

That marriage, nor would piety permit.

Nero:Shall I alone avoid what all may do?

Seneca:The state from loftiest souls expects the best.575

Nero:I fain would see if, broken by my power,This rashly cherished favor will not yield.

Nero:I fain would see if, broken by my power,

This rashly cherished favor will not yield.

Seneca:'Tis better calmly to obey the state.

Nero:Ill fares the state, when commons govern kings.Seneca:They justly chafe who pray without avail.580

Nero:Ill fares the state, when commons govern kings.

Seneca:They justly chafe who pray without avail.580

Nero:When prayers do not avail, should force be sought?

Seneca:Rebuffs are hard.

Nero:'Tis wrong to force a prince.

Seneca:He should give way.

Nero:Then rumor counts him forced.

Seneca:Rumor's an empty thing.

Nero:But harmful too.

Seneca:She fears the strong.585

Nero:But none the less maligns.

Seneca:She soon can be o'ercome. But let the youth,The faith and chastity of this thy wife,The merits of her sainted sire prevailTo turn thee from thy will.

Seneca:She soon can be o'ercome. But let the youth,

The faith and chastity of this thy wife,

The merits of her sainted sire prevail

To turn thee from thy will.

Nero:Have done at last,For wearisome has thy insistence grown;One still may do what Seneca comdemns.And I myself have now too long delayed590The people's prayers for offspring to the throne.Tomorrow's morn her wedding day shall prove,Who bears within her womb my pledge of love.

Nero:Have done at last,

For wearisome has thy insistence grown;

One still may do what Seneca comdemns.

And I myself have now too long delayed590

The people's prayers for offspring to the throne.

Tomorrow's morn her wedding day shall prove,

Who bears within her womb my pledge of love.

[Exeunt.]

Ghost of Agrippina[bearing a flaming torch]: Through cloven earth from Tartarus I come,To bring in bloody hands this torch of hellTo light these curséd rites; with such dire flames595Let this Poppaea wed my son, which soonHis mother's grief and vengeful hand shall turnTo funeral fires. And ever 'mid the shadesMy impious murder in my memory dwells,A heavy weight upon my grieving soulStill unavenged; for, Oh, ingratitudeHe gave me in return for all my gifts,600E'en for the gift of empire did he giveA murderous ship designed to work my death.I would have wept my comrades' plight, and more,My son's most cruel deed: no time for tearsWas given, but even higher did he heap605His sum of crime. Though I escaped the sea,I felt the keen sword's thrust, and, with my bloodThe very gods defiling, poured my soulIn anguish forth. But even yet his hateWas not appeased. Against my very nameThe tyrant raged; my merits he obscured;610My statues, my inscriptions, honors—all,On pain of death he bade to be destroyedThroughout the world—that world my hapless love,To my own direful punishment, had givenTo be by him, an untried boy, controlled.And now my murdered husband's angry ghostShakes vengeful torches in my guilty face,615Insistent, threat'ning; blames his death on me,His murdered son, and loud demands that nowThe guilty cause be given up. Have done:He shall be given, and that right speedily.Avenging furies for his impious headAre planning even now a worthy fate:620Base flight and blows, and fearful sufferings,By which the raging thirst of TantalusHe shall surpass; the cruel, endless toilOf Sisyphus; the pain that Tityus feels,And the dread, racking anguish of the wheelOn which Ixion's whirling limbs are stretched.Let gold and marble deck his palace walls;Let arméd guards protect him; let the world625Be beggared that its treasures vast may flowInto his lap; let suppliant Parthians bendTo kiss his hands, and bring rich offerings:The day and hour will come when for his crimesHis guilty soul shall full atonement make,630When to his enemies he shall be given,Deserted and destroyed and stripped of all.Oh, to what end my labors and my prayers?Why did thy frenzied madness, O my son,And fate impel thee to such depths of crimeThat e'en thy mother's wrath, whom thou didst slay,635Is all too small to match her sufferings?Oh, would that, ere I brought thee forth to light,And suckled thee, my vitals had been rentBy savage beasts! Then senseless, innocent,And mine wouldst thou have perished; joined to meWouldst thou forever see the quiet seats640Of this abode of souls, thy mighty sire,And grandsires too, those men of glorious name,Whom now perpetual shame and grief awaitBecause of thee, thou monster, and of me.But why delay in hell to hide my face,Since I have proved a curse to all my race?645

Ghost of Agrippina[bearing a flaming torch]: Through cloven earth from Tartarus I come,

To bring in bloody hands this torch of hell

To light these curséd rites; with such dire flames595

Let this Poppaea wed my son, which soon

His mother's grief and vengeful hand shall turn

To funeral fires. And ever 'mid the shades

My impious murder in my memory dwells,

A heavy weight upon my grieving soul

Still unavenged; for, Oh, ingratitude

He gave me in return for all my gifts,600

E'en for the gift of empire did he give

A murderous ship designed to work my death.

I would have wept my comrades' plight, and more,

My son's most cruel deed: no time for tears

Was given, but even higher did he heap605

His sum of crime. Though I escaped the sea,

I felt the keen sword's thrust, and, with my blood

The very gods defiling, poured my soul

In anguish forth. But even yet his hate

Was not appeased. Against my very name

The tyrant raged; my merits he obscured;610

My statues, my inscriptions, honors—all,

On pain of death he bade to be destroyed

Throughout the world—that world my hapless love,

To my own direful punishment, had given

To be by him, an untried boy, controlled.

And now my murdered husband's angry ghost

Shakes vengeful torches in my guilty face,615

Insistent, threat'ning; blames his death on me,

His murdered son, and loud demands that now

The guilty cause be given up. Have done:

He shall be given, and that right speedily.

Avenging furies for his impious head

Are planning even now a worthy fate:620

Base flight and blows, and fearful sufferings,

By which the raging thirst of Tantalus

He shall surpass; the cruel, endless toil

Of Sisyphus; the pain that Tityus feels,

And the dread, racking anguish of the wheel

On which Ixion's whirling limbs are stretched.

Let gold and marble deck his palace walls;

Let arméd guards protect him; let the world625

Be beggared that its treasures vast may flow

Into his lap; let suppliant Parthians bend

To kiss his hands, and bring rich offerings:

The day and hour will come when for his crimes

His guilty soul shall full atonement make,630

When to his enemies he shall be given,

Deserted and destroyed and stripped of all.

Oh, to what end my labors and my prayers?

Why did thy frenzied madness, O my son,

And fate impel thee to such depths of crime

That e'en thy mother's wrath, whom thou didst slay,635

Is all too small to match her sufferings?

Oh, would that, ere I brought thee forth to light,

And suckled thee, my vitals had been rent

By savage beasts! Then senseless, innocent,

And mine wouldst thou have perished; joined to me

Wouldst thou forever see the quiet seats640

Of this abode of souls, thy mighty sire,

And grandsires too, those men of glorious name,

Whom now perpetual shame and grief await

Because of thee, thou monster, and of me.

But why delay in hell to hide my face,

Since I have proved a curse to all my race?645

[Vanishes.]

Octavia[to theChorusin deprecation of their grief because of her divorce]: Restrain your tears; put on a face of joy,As on a festal day, lest this your loveAnd care for me should stir the royal wrath,And I be cause of suffering to you.650This wound is not the first my heart has felt;Far worse have I endured; but all shall end,Perchance in death, before this day is done.No more upon my brutal husband's faceShall I be forced to look; that hateful couch,655Long since consigned to slavish uses, base,I shall behold no more.For now Augustus' sister shall I be,And not his wife. But Oh, be far from meAll cruel punishments and fear of death.660Poor, foolish girl! and canst thou hope for this?Bethink thee of his former sins—and hope.Nay, he has spared thy wretched life till now,That thou mayst at his marriage altars fall.But why so often turn thy streaming eyes665Upon thy home? Now speed thy steps away,And leave this bloody prince's hall for aye.Chorus:Now dawns at last the day we long have fearedAnd talked of. Lo, our Claudia, driven forth670By cruel Nero's threats, leaves that abodeWhich even now Poppaea calls her own;While we must sit and grieve with sluggish woe,By heavy fear oppressed.675Where is that Roman people's manhood now,Which once the pride of mighty leaders crushed,Gave righteous laws to an unconquered land,Gave powers at will to worthy citizens,Made peace and war, fierce nations overcame,680And held in dungeons dark their captive kings?Behold, on every side our eyes are grievedBy this Poppaea's gleaming statues joinedWith Nero's images—a shameful sight.685Come, overturn them with indignant hands,Too like in feature to her living face.And her we'll drag from off that royal couch;And then, with flaming brand and deadly sword,Attack the princely palace of her lord.

Octavia[to theChorusin deprecation of their grief because of her divorce]: Restrain your tears; put on a face of joy,

As on a festal day, lest this your love

And care for me should stir the royal wrath,

And I be cause of suffering to you.650

This wound is not the first my heart has felt;

Far worse have I endured; but all shall end,

Perchance in death, before this day is done.

No more upon my brutal husband's face

Shall I be forced to look; that hateful couch,655

Long since consigned to slavish uses, base,

I shall behold no more.

For now Augustus' sister shall I be,

And not his wife. But Oh, be far from me

All cruel punishments and fear of death.660

Poor, foolish girl! and canst thou hope for this?

Bethink thee of his former sins—and hope.

Nay, he has spared thy wretched life till now,

That thou mayst at his marriage altars fall.

But why so often turn thy streaming eyes665

Upon thy home? Now speed thy steps away,

And leave this bloody prince's hall for aye.

Chorus:Now dawns at last the day we long have fearedAnd talked of. Lo, our Claudia, driven forth670By cruel Nero's threats, leaves that abodeWhich even now Poppaea calls her own;While we must sit and grieve with sluggish woe,By heavy fear oppressed.675Where is that Roman people's manhood now,Which once the pride of mighty leaders crushed,Gave righteous laws to an unconquered land,Gave powers at will to worthy citizens,Made peace and war, fierce nations overcame,680And held in dungeons dark their captive kings?Behold, on every side our eyes are grievedBy this Poppaea's gleaming statues joinedWith Nero's images—a shameful sight.685Come, overturn them with indignant hands,Too like in feature to her living face.And her we'll drag from off that royal couch;And then, with flaming brand and deadly sword,Attack the princely palace of her lord.

Chorus:Now dawns at last the day we long have feared

And talked of. Lo, our Claudia, driven forth670

By cruel Nero's threats, leaves that abode

Which even now Poppaea calls her own;

While we must sit and grieve with sluggish woe,

By heavy fear oppressed.675

Where is that Roman people's manhood now,

Which once the pride of mighty leaders crushed,

Gave righteous laws to an unconquered land,

Gave powers at will to worthy citizens,

Made peace and war, fierce nations overcame,680

And held in dungeons dark their captive kings?

Behold, on every side our eyes are grieved

By this Poppaea's gleaming statues joined

With Nero's images—a shameful sight.685

Come, overturn them with indignant hands,

Too like in feature to her living face.

And her we'll drag from off that royal couch;

And then, with flaming brand and deadly sword,

Attack the princely palace of her lord.

Nurse[toPoppaea,who appears, distraught, coming out of her chamber]: Why dost thou from thy husband's chamber come,690Dear child, with hurried step and troubled face?Why dost thou seek a lonely place to weep?For surely has the day we long have soughtWith prayers and promised victims come at last.Thou hast thy Caesar, firmly joined to theeBy ties of marriage, whom thy beauty won,695Whom Venus gave to thee in bonds of love,Though Seneca despised and flouted her.How beautiful, upon the banquet couchReclining in the palace, didst thou seem!The senate viewed thy beauty in amazeWhen thou didst offer incense to the gods,700And sprinkle wine upon the sacred shrines,Thy head the while with gauzy purple veiled.And close beside thee was thy lord himself;Amid the favoring plaudits of the crowdHe walked majestic, in his look and mienProclaiming all his pride and joy in thee.705So did the noble Peleus lead his brideEmerging from the ocean's snowy foam,Whose wedding feast the heavenly gods adorned,With equal joy the sea divinities.What sudden cause has clouded o'er thy face?710Tell me, what mean thy pallor and thy tears!Poppaea:Dear nurse, this night I had a dreadful dream;And even now, as I remember it,My mind is troubled and my senses fail.For when the joyful day had sunk to rest,And in the darkened sky the stars appeared,715I lay asleep within my Nero's arms.But that sweet sleep I could not long enjoy;For suddenly a grieving crowd appearedTo throng my chamber—Roman matrons they,With hair disheveled and loud cries of woe.720Then 'midst the oft-repeated, strident blastsOf trumpets, there appeared my husband's mother,And shook before my face with threat'ning mienA bloody torch. Compelled by present fear,I followed her; when suddenly the earth725Seemed rent asunder to its lowest depths.Headlong to these I plunged, and even thereIn wonder I beheld my wedding couch,Whereon I sank in utter weariness.Then with a throng of followers I sawMy son and former husband drawing near.Straightway Crispinus hastened to my arms,730And on my lips his eager kisses fell:When suddenly within that chamber burstMy lord the king with frantic, hurrying steps,And plunged his sword into that other's throat.A mighty terror siezed me, and at lastIt roused me from my sleep. I started upWith trembling limbs and wildly beating heart.735Long was I speechless from that haunting fear,Until thy fond affection gave me tongue.Why do the ghosts of hades threaten me?Or why did I behold my husband's blood?Nurse:All things which occupy the waking[57]mind,740Some subtle power, swift working, weaves againInto our web of dreams. Small wonder then,Thy sleeping thoughts were filled with marriage bedsAnd husbands, when thy newly mated lordHeld thee in his embrace. Does it seem strangeThat thou shouldst dream tonight of sounds of woe,745Of breasts hard beaten and of streaming hair?Octavia's departure did they mournWithin her brother's and her father's house.The torch which thou didst follow, borne aloftBy Agrippina's hand, is but a signThat hate shall win for thee a mighty name.Thy marriage couch, in realms infernal seen,750Portends a lasting state of wedded joy.Since in Crispinus' neck the sword was sheathed,Believe that no more wars thy lord shall wage,But hide his sword within the breast of peace.Take heart again, recall thy joys, I pray,Throw off thy fears, and to thy couch return.755Poppaea:Nay, rather will I seek the sacred shrines,And there make sacrifice unto the gods,That they avert these threats of night and sleep,And turn my terrors all upon my foes.Do thou pray for me and the gods implore760That in this happy state I may endure.

Nurse[toPoppaea,who appears, distraught, coming out of her chamber]: Why dost thou from thy husband's chamber come,690

Dear child, with hurried step and troubled face?

Why dost thou seek a lonely place to weep?

For surely has the day we long have sought

With prayers and promised victims come at last.

Thou hast thy Caesar, firmly joined to thee

By ties of marriage, whom thy beauty won,695

Whom Venus gave to thee in bonds of love,

Though Seneca despised and flouted her.

How beautiful, upon the banquet couch

Reclining in the palace, didst thou seem!

The senate viewed thy beauty in amaze

When thou didst offer incense to the gods,700

And sprinkle wine upon the sacred shrines,

Thy head the while with gauzy purple veiled.

And close beside thee was thy lord himself;

Amid the favoring plaudits of the crowd

He walked majestic, in his look and mien

Proclaiming all his pride and joy in thee.705

So did the noble Peleus lead his bride

Emerging from the ocean's snowy foam,

Whose wedding feast the heavenly gods adorned,

With equal joy the sea divinities.

What sudden cause has clouded o'er thy face?710

Tell me, what mean thy pallor and thy tears!

Poppaea:Dear nurse, this night I had a dreadful dream;And even now, as I remember it,My mind is troubled and my senses fail.For when the joyful day had sunk to rest,And in the darkened sky the stars appeared,715I lay asleep within my Nero's arms.But that sweet sleep I could not long enjoy;For suddenly a grieving crowd appearedTo throng my chamber—Roman matrons they,With hair disheveled and loud cries of woe.720Then 'midst the oft-repeated, strident blastsOf trumpets, there appeared my husband's mother,And shook before my face with threat'ning mienA bloody torch. Compelled by present fear,I followed her; when suddenly the earth725Seemed rent asunder to its lowest depths.Headlong to these I plunged, and even thereIn wonder I beheld my wedding couch,Whereon I sank in utter weariness.Then with a throng of followers I sawMy son and former husband drawing near.Straightway Crispinus hastened to my arms,730And on my lips his eager kisses fell:When suddenly within that chamber burstMy lord the king with frantic, hurrying steps,And plunged his sword into that other's throat.A mighty terror siezed me, and at lastIt roused me from my sleep. I started upWith trembling limbs and wildly beating heart.735Long was I speechless from that haunting fear,Until thy fond affection gave me tongue.Why do the ghosts of hades threaten me?Or why did I behold my husband's blood?

Poppaea:Dear nurse, this night I had a dreadful dream;

And even now, as I remember it,

My mind is troubled and my senses fail.

For when the joyful day had sunk to rest,

And in the darkened sky the stars appeared,715

I lay asleep within my Nero's arms.

But that sweet sleep I could not long enjoy;

For suddenly a grieving crowd appeared

To throng my chamber—Roman matrons they,

With hair disheveled and loud cries of woe.720

Then 'midst the oft-repeated, strident blasts

Of trumpets, there appeared my husband's mother,

And shook before my face with threat'ning mien

A bloody torch. Compelled by present fear,

I followed her; when suddenly the earth725

Seemed rent asunder to its lowest depths.

Headlong to these I plunged, and even there

In wonder I beheld my wedding couch,

Whereon I sank in utter weariness.

Then with a throng of followers I saw

My son and former husband drawing near.

Straightway Crispinus hastened to my arms,730

And on my lips his eager kisses fell:

When suddenly within that chamber burst

My lord the king with frantic, hurrying steps,

And plunged his sword into that other's throat.

A mighty terror siezed me, and at last

It roused me from my sleep. I started up

With trembling limbs and wildly beating heart.735

Long was I speechless from that haunting fear,

Until thy fond affection gave me tongue.

Why do the ghosts of hades threaten me?

Or why did I behold my husband's blood?

Nurse:All things which occupy the waking[57]mind,740Some subtle power, swift working, weaves againInto our web of dreams. Small wonder then,Thy sleeping thoughts were filled with marriage bedsAnd husbands, when thy newly mated lordHeld thee in his embrace. Does it seem strangeThat thou shouldst dream tonight of sounds of woe,745Of breasts hard beaten and of streaming hair?Octavia's departure did they mournWithin her brother's and her father's house.The torch which thou didst follow, borne aloftBy Agrippina's hand, is but a signThat hate shall win for thee a mighty name.Thy marriage couch, in realms infernal seen,750Portends a lasting state of wedded joy.Since in Crispinus' neck the sword was sheathed,Believe that no more wars thy lord shall wage,But hide his sword within the breast of peace.Take heart again, recall thy joys, I pray,Throw off thy fears, and to thy couch return.755

Nurse:All things which occupy the waking[57]mind,740

Some subtle power, swift working, weaves again

Into our web of dreams. Small wonder then,

Thy sleeping thoughts were filled with marriage beds

And husbands, when thy newly mated lord

Held thee in his embrace. Does it seem strange

That thou shouldst dream tonight of sounds of woe,745

Of breasts hard beaten and of streaming hair?

Octavia's departure did they mourn

Within her brother's and her father's house.

The torch which thou didst follow, borne aloft

By Agrippina's hand, is but a sign

That hate shall win for thee a mighty name.

Thy marriage couch, in realms infernal seen,750

Portends a lasting state of wedded joy.

Since in Crispinus' neck the sword was sheathed,

Believe that no more wars thy lord shall wage,

But hide his sword within the breast of peace.

Take heart again, recall thy joys, I pray,

Throw off thy fears, and to thy couch return.755

Poppaea:Nay, rather will I seek the sacred shrines,And there make sacrifice unto the gods,That they avert these threats of night and sleep,And turn my terrors all upon my foes.Do thou pray for me and the gods implore760That in this happy state I may endure.

Poppaea:Nay, rather will I seek the sacred shrines,

And there make sacrifice unto the gods,

That they avert these threats of night and sleep,

And turn my terrors all upon my foes.

Do thou pray for me and the gods implore760

That in this happy state I may endure.

[ExeuntPoppaeaandNurse.]

Chorus[of Roman women in sympathy withPoppaea]: If babbling rumor's tales of Jove,His secret joys in mortal love,Are true, he once, in plumage dressed,Was to the lovely Leda pressed;765And as a savage bull he boreEuropa from her native shore:But should he once thy form, Poppaea, see,He would leave his shining stars to dwell with thee.For thou than Leda many fold770Art fairer, or that maid of oldWhom Jove embraced in showers of gold.Let Sparta boast her lovely dame,Who, as his prize, to Paris came:Though Helen's beauty drove the world to arms,775She still must yield to our Poppaea's charms.[EnterMessenger.]But who comes here with hurried step and wild?What tidings bears he in his heaving breast?Messenger:Whoever guards our noble prince's house,780Let him defend it from the people's rage.Behold, the prefects lead their men in haste,To save the city from the furious mobWhose reckless passion grows, unchecked by fear.Chorus:What is the madness that inflames their hearts?785Messenger:The people for their loved OctaviaAre wild with rage and grief; and now in throngsAre rushing forth in mood for any deed.Chorus:What are they bent to do, or with what plan?Messenger:To give Octavia back her father's house,Her brother's bed, and her due share of empire.790Chorus:But these Poppaea holds as Nero's wife.Messenger:'Tis even she 'gainst whom the people's rageBurns most persistent, and to reckless deedsIs driven headlong on. Whate'er they see,Of noble marble wrought, or gleaming bronze,The hated image of Poppaea's face,795They cast it to the earth with wanton handsAnd crushing bars. The shattered parts they dragAlong the streets, and with insulting heelDeep in the filthy mud they trample them.These savage deeds are mingled with such wordsAs I should fear to utter in your ears.800Soon will they hedge the royal house with flames,Unless the prince his new-made wife give upTo sate the people's wrath, and then restoreTo noble Claudia her father's house.That he himself may know these threatened deeds,I'll haste to tell him as the prefect bade.805

Chorus[of Roman women in sympathy withPoppaea]: If babbling rumor's tales of Jove,

His secret joys in mortal love,

Are true, he once, in plumage dressed,

Was to the lovely Leda pressed;765

And as a savage bull he bore

Europa from her native shore:

But should he once thy form, Poppaea, see,

He would leave his shining stars to dwell with thee.

For thou than Leda many fold770

Art fairer, or that maid of old

Whom Jove embraced in showers of gold.

Let Sparta boast her lovely dame,

Who, as his prize, to Paris came:

Though Helen's beauty drove the world to arms,775

She still must yield to our Poppaea's charms.

[EnterMessenger.]

But who comes here with hurried step and wild?

What tidings bears he in his heaving breast?

Messenger:Whoever guards our noble prince's house,780Let him defend it from the people's rage.Behold, the prefects lead their men in haste,To save the city from the furious mobWhose reckless passion grows, unchecked by fear.

Messenger:Whoever guards our noble prince's house,780

Let him defend it from the people's rage.

Behold, the prefects lead their men in haste,

To save the city from the furious mob

Whose reckless passion grows, unchecked by fear.

Chorus:What is the madness that inflames their hearts?785

Messenger:The people for their loved OctaviaAre wild with rage and grief; and now in throngsAre rushing forth in mood for any deed.

Messenger:The people for their loved Octavia

Are wild with rage and grief; and now in throngs

Are rushing forth in mood for any deed.

Chorus:What are they bent to do, or with what plan?

Messenger:To give Octavia back her father's house,Her brother's bed, and her due share of empire.790

Messenger:To give Octavia back her father's house,

Her brother's bed, and her due share of empire.790

Chorus:But these Poppaea holds as Nero's wife.

Messenger:'Tis even she 'gainst whom the people's rageBurns most persistent, and to reckless deedsIs driven headlong on. Whate'er they see,Of noble marble wrought, or gleaming bronze,The hated image of Poppaea's face,795They cast it to the earth with wanton handsAnd crushing bars. The shattered parts they dragAlong the streets, and with insulting heelDeep in the filthy mud they trample them.These savage deeds are mingled with such wordsAs I should fear to utter in your ears.800Soon will they hedge the royal house with flames,Unless the prince his new-made wife give upTo sate the people's wrath, and then restoreTo noble Claudia her father's house.That he himself may know these threatened deeds,I'll haste to tell him as the prefect bade.805

Messenger:'Tis even she 'gainst whom the people's rage

Burns most persistent, and to reckless deeds

Is driven headlong on. Whate'er they see,

Of noble marble wrought, or gleaming bronze,

The hated image of Poppaea's face,795

They cast it to the earth with wanton hands

And crushing bars. The shattered parts they drag

Along the streets, and with insulting heel

Deep in the filthy mud they trample them.

These savage deeds are mingled with such words

As I should fear to utter in your ears.800

Soon will they hedge the royal house with flames,

Unless the prince his new-made wife give up

To sate the people's wrath, and then restore

To noble Claudia her father's house.

That he himself may know these threatened deeds,

I'll haste to tell him as the prefect bade.805

[Exit.]

Chorus:Why vainly strive against the powers above?For Cupid's weapons are invincible.Your puny fires by those fierce flames he'll dimBy which he oft has quenched the bolts of Jove,And brought the Thunderer captive from the sky.810For this offense you shall dire forfeit pay,E'en with your blood; for hot of wrath is he,And may not be o'ercome. At his commandDid fierce Achilles strike the peaceful lyre;He forced the Greeks and Agamemnon proud815To do his will. Illustrious cities, too,And Priam's realm he utterly destroyed.And now my mind in fear awaits to seeWhat Cupid's cruel penalties will be.

Chorus:Why vainly strive against the powers above?

For Cupid's weapons are invincible.

Your puny fires by those fierce flames he'll dim

By which he oft has quenched the bolts of Jove,

And brought the Thunderer captive from the sky.810

For this offense you shall dire forfeit pay,

E'en with your blood; for hot of wrath is he,

And may not be o'ercome. At his command

Did fierce Achilles strike the peaceful lyre;

He forced the Greeks and Agamemnon proud815

To do his will. Illustrious cities, too,

And Priam's realm he utterly destroyed.

And now my mind in fear awaits to see

What Cupid's cruel penalties will be.

FOOTNOTES:[57]Reading,intentus.

[57]Reading,intentus.

Nero[seated in a room of his palace]: Too slow my soldiers' hands, too mild my wrath,820When citizens have dared such crimes as these.Those torches that they kindled 'gainst their princeTheir blood shall quench; and Rome, who bore such men,Shall be bespattered with her people's gore.Yet death is far too light a punishment825For such atrocities; this impious mobShall suffer worse than death. But she, my wifeAnd sister, whom I hate with deadly fear,For whose sole sake the people rage at me,Shall give her life at last to sate my grief,And quench my anger in her flowing blood.830Soon shall my flames enwrap the city's walls,And in the ruins of her falling homesThe people shall be buried; squalid want,Dire hunger, grief-all these shall they endure.Too fat upon the blessings of our ageHas this vile mob become, and know not how835To bear our clemency and relish peace;But, rash and reckless, are they ever borneBy shifting tides of passion to their hurt.They must be held in check by suffering,Be ever pressed beneath the heavy yoke,Lest once again they dare assail the throne,840And to the august features of my wifeDare lift again their vulgar eyes. O'erawedBy fear of punishment must they be taughtTo yield obedience to their prince's nod.But here I see the man whose loyaltyHas made him captain of my royal guards.845

Nero[seated in a room of his palace]: Too slow my soldiers' hands, too mild my wrath,820

When citizens have dared such crimes as these.

Those torches that they kindled 'gainst their prince

Their blood shall quench; and Rome, who bore such men,

Shall be bespattered with her people's gore.

Yet death is far too light a punishment825

For such atrocities; this impious mob

Shall suffer worse than death. But she, my wife

And sister, whom I hate with deadly fear,

For whose sole sake the people rage at me,

Shall give her life at last to sate my grief,

And quench my anger in her flowing blood.830

Soon shall my flames enwrap the city's walls,

And in the ruins of her falling homes

The people shall be buried; squalid want,

Dire hunger, grief-all these shall they endure.

Too fat upon the blessings of our age

Has this vile mob become, and know not how835

To bear our clemency and relish peace;

But, rash and reckless, are they ever borne

By shifting tides of passion to their hurt.

They must be held in check by suffering,

Be ever pressed beneath the heavy yoke,

Lest once again they dare assail the throne,840

And to the august features of my wife

Dare lift again their vulgar eyes. O'erawed

By fear of punishment must they be taught

To yield obedience to their prince's nod.

But here I see the man whose loyalty

Has made him captain of my royal guards.845

[EnterPrefect.]

Prefect:The people's rage by slaughter of a few,Who most resistance made is overcome.Nero:Is that enough? Was that my word to thee?"Is overcome?" Where then is my revenge?Prefect:The guilty leaders of the mob are dead.850Nero:Nay, but the mob itself, which dared to assailMy house with flames, to dictate laws to me,To drag my noble wife from off my bed,And with unhallowed hands and angry threatsTo affront her majesty—are they unscathed?855Prefect:Shall angry grief decide their punishment?Nero:It shall—whose fame no future age shall dim.Prefect:Which neither wrath nor fear shall moderate?[58]Nero:She first shall feel my wrath who merits it.Prefect:Tell whom thou mean'st. My hand shall spare her not.860Nero:My wrath demands my guilty sister's death.Prefect:Benumbing horror holds me in its grasp.Nero:Wilt not obey my word?Prefect:Why question that?Nero:Because thou spar'st my foe.Prefect:A woman, foe?Nero:If she be criminal.865Prefect:But what her crime?Nero:The people's rage.Prefect:But who can check their rage?Nero:The one who fanned its flame.Prefect:But who that one?Nero:A woman she, to whom an evil heartHath nature given, a soul to fraud inclined.Prefect:But not the power to act.870Nero:That she may beWithout the power to act, that present fearMay break her strength, let punishment at once,Too long delayed, crush out her guilty life.Have done at once with arguments and prayers,And do my royal bidding: let her sailTo some far distant shore and there be slain,875That thus at last my fears may be at rest.

Prefect:The people's rage by slaughter of a few,Who most resistance made is overcome.

Prefect:The people's rage by slaughter of a few,

Who most resistance made is overcome.

Nero:Is that enough? Was that my word to thee?"Is overcome?" Where then is my revenge?

Nero:Is that enough? Was that my word to thee?

"Is overcome?" Where then is my revenge?

Prefect:The guilty leaders of the mob are dead.850

Nero:Nay, but the mob itself, which dared to assailMy house with flames, to dictate laws to me,To drag my noble wife from off my bed,And with unhallowed hands and angry threatsTo affront her majesty—are they unscathed?855

Nero:Nay, but the mob itself, which dared to assail

My house with flames, to dictate laws to me,

To drag my noble wife from off my bed,

And with unhallowed hands and angry threats

To affront her majesty—are they unscathed?855

Prefect:Shall angry grief decide their punishment?

Nero:It shall—whose fame no future age shall dim.

Prefect:Which neither wrath nor fear shall moderate?[58]

Nero:She first shall feel my wrath who merits it.

Prefect:Tell whom thou mean'st. My hand shall spare her not.860

Nero:My wrath demands my guilty sister's death.

Prefect:Benumbing horror holds me in its grasp.

Nero:Wilt not obey my word?

Prefect:Why question that?

Nero:Because thou spar'st my foe.

Prefect:A woman, foe?

Nero:If she be criminal.865

Prefect:But what her crime?

Nero:The people's rage.

Prefect:But who can check their rage?

Nero:The one who fanned its flame.

Prefect:But who that one?

Nero:A woman she, to whom an evil heartHath nature given, a soul to fraud inclined.

Nero:A woman she, to whom an evil heart

Hath nature given, a soul to fraud inclined.

Prefect:But not the power to act.870

Nero:That she may beWithout the power to act, that present fearMay break her strength, let punishment at once,Too long delayed, crush out her guilty life.Have done at once with arguments and prayers,And do my royal bidding: let her sailTo some far distant shore and there be slain,875That thus at last my fears may be at rest.

Nero:That she may be

Without the power to act, that present fear

May break her strength, let punishment at once,

Too long delayed, crush out her guilty life.

Have done at once with arguments and prayers,

And do my royal bidding: let her sail

To some far distant shore and there be slain,875

That thus at last my fears may be at rest.

[Exeunt.]

Chorus[attached toOctavia]: Oh, dire and deadly has the people's loveTo many proved, which fills their swelling sailsWith favoring breeze, and bears them out to sea;But soon its vigor languishes and dies,880And leaves them to the mercy of the deep.The wretched mother of the Gracchi weptHer murdered sons, who, though of noble blood,Far famed for eloquence and piety,885Stout-hearted, learnéd in defense of law,Were brought to ruin by the people's loveAnd popular renown. And Livius, theeTo equal fate did fickle fortune give,Who found no safety in thy lictors' rods,No refuge in thy home. But grief forbidsTo tell more instances. This hapless girl,890To whom but now the citizens decreedThe restoration of her fatherland,Her home, her brother's couch, is dragged awayIn tears and misery to punishment,With citizens consenting to her death!895Oh, blesséd poverty, content to hideBeneath the refuge of a lowly roof!For lofty homes, to fame and fortune known,By storms are blasted and by fate o'erthrown!

Chorus[attached toOctavia]: Oh, dire and deadly has the people's love

To many proved, which fills their swelling sails

With favoring breeze, and bears them out to sea;

But soon its vigor languishes and dies,880

And leaves them to the mercy of the deep.

The wretched mother of the Gracchi wept

Her murdered sons, who, though of noble blood,

Far famed for eloquence and piety,885

Stout-hearted, learnéd in defense of law,

Were brought to ruin by the people's love

And popular renown. And Livius, thee

To equal fate did fickle fortune give,

Who found no safety in thy lictors' rods,

No refuge in thy home. But grief forbids

To tell more instances. This hapless girl,890

To whom but now the citizens decreed

The restoration of her fatherland,

Her home, her brother's couch, is dragged away

In tears and misery to punishment,

With citizens consenting to her death!895

Oh, blesséd poverty, content to hide

Beneath the refuge of a lowly roof!

For lofty homes, to fame and fortune known,

By storms are blasted and by fate o'erthrown!

[EnterOctaviain the custody of the palace guards, who are dragging her roughly out into the street.]

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