Great Caesar summoned us.
Great Caesar summoned us.
Great Caesar summoned us.
Great Caesar summoned us.
Nero
Nero
Nero
(Glancing nervously about.)
The night is blear—Make lights! I will not have these shadow thingsCrawling about me! Poisoners of kingsFatten on shadows! Quick there, dog-eyed scamp,Lean offal-sniffer! Kindle every lamp!
The night is blear—Make lights! I will not have these shadow thingsCrawling about me! Poisoners of kingsFatten on shadows! Quick there, dog-eyed scamp,Lean offal-sniffer! Kindle every lamp!
The night is blear—Make lights! I will not have these shadow thingsCrawling about me! Poisoners of kingsFatten on shadows! Quick there, dog-eyed scamp,Lean offal-sniffer! Kindle every lamp!
The night is blear—
Make lights! I will not have these shadow things
Crawling about me! Poisoners of kings
Fatten on shadows! Quick there, dog-eyed scamp,
Lean offal-sniffer! Kindle every lamp!
(Soldier tremblingly takes a lamp and lights a number of others with its flame. Stage is flooded with light.)
By the bronze beard I swear there shall be lightsEnough hereafter, though I purge the nightsWith conflagrating cities, till the crashOf Rome’s last tower beat up the smouldering ashOf Rome’s last city!So—I breathe again!Some cunning, facelessgod who hated menDevised this curse of darkness! What’s the hour?
By the bronze beard I swear there shall be lightsEnough hereafter, though I purge the nightsWith conflagrating cities, till the crashOf Rome’s last tower beat up the smouldering ashOf Rome’s last city!So—I breathe again!Some cunning, facelessgod who hated menDevised this curse of darkness! What’s the hour?
By the bronze beard I swear there shall be lightsEnough hereafter, though I purge the nightsWith conflagrating cities, till the crashOf Rome’s last tower beat up the smouldering ashOf Rome’s last city!So—I breathe again!Some cunning, facelessgod who hated menDevised this curse of darkness! What’s the hour?
By the bronze beard I swear there shall be lights
Enough hereafter, though I purge the nights
With conflagrating cities, till the crash
Of Rome’s last tower beat up the smouldering ash
Of Rome’s last city!
So—I breathe again!
Some cunning, facelessgod who hated men
Devised this curse of darkness! What’s the hour?
Second Soldier
Second Soldier
Second Soldier
The third watch wanes.
The third watch wanes.
The third watch wanes.
The third watch wanes.
Nero
Nero
Nero
Too late! Too late! The powerOf Nero Caesar can not stay the sun!The stars have marched against me—it is done!And all Rome’s legions could not rout this swarmOf venom-footed moments!—She was warmOne little lost eternity ago.
Too late! Too late! The powerOf Nero Caesar can not stay the sun!The stars have marched against me—it is done!And all Rome’s legions could not rout this swarmOf venom-footed moments!—She was warmOne little lost eternity ago.
Too late! Too late! The powerOf Nero Caesar can not stay the sun!The stars have marched against me—it is done!And all Rome’s legions could not rout this swarmOf venom-footed moments!—She was warmOne little lost eternity ago.
Too late! Too late! The power
Of Nero Caesar can not stay the sun!
The stars have marched against me—it is done!
And all Rome’s legions could not rout this swarm
Of venom-footed moments!
—She was warm
One little lost eternity ago.
(With awakening resolution.)
‘Twas not my deed! I did not wish it so!Some demon, aping Caesar, gave the wordWhile Lucius Aenobarbus’ eyes were blurredWith too much beauty!Oh, it shall be done!Ere these unmothered eyes behold the sun,She shall have vengeance, and that gift is mine!
‘Twas not my deed! I did not wish it so!Some demon, aping Caesar, gave the wordWhile Lucius Aenobarbus’ eyes were blurredWith too much beauty!Oh, it shall be done!Ere these unmothered eyes behold the sun,She shall have vengeance, and that gift is mine!
‘Twas not my deed! I did not wish it so!Some demon, aping Caesar, gave the wordWhile Lucius Aenobarbus’ eyes were blurredWith too much beauty!Oh, it shall be done!Ere these unmothered eyes behold the sun,She shall have vengeance, and that gift is mine!
‘Twas not my deed! I did not wish it so!
Some demon, aping Caesar, gave the word
While Lucius Aenobarbus’ eyes were blurred
With too much beauty!
Oh, it shall be done!
Ere these unmothered eyes behold the sun,
She shall have vengeance, and that gift is mine!
(To First Soldier.)
Rouse the Praetorians! Bid a triple lineBe flung about the palace!
Rouse the Praetorians! Bid a triple lineBe flung about the palace!
Rouse the Praetorians! Bid a triple lineBe flung about the palace!
Rouse the Praetorians! Bid a triple line
Be flung about the palace!
(To Second Soldier.)
Send me wine—Strong wine to nerve a resolution!
Send me wine—Strong wine to nerve a resolution!
Send me wine—Strong wine to nerve a resolution!
Send me wine—
Strong wine to nerve a resolution!
(To Third Soldier.)
You—Summon Poppaea!
You—Summon Poppaea!
You—Summon Poppaea!
You—
Summon Poppaea!
(The Soldiers go out.)
This deed I mean to doUnties the snarl, but broken is the thread.Would that the haughty blood these hands will shedMight warm my mother! that the breath I crush—So—(clutching air) from that throat of sorceries, might rushInto the breast that loved and nurtured me!The heart of Nero shivers in the sea,And Rome is lorn of pity!Could the worldAnd all her crawling spawn this night be hurledInto one woman’s form, with eyes to shedRivers of scalding woe, her towering headJeweled with realms aflare, with locks of smoke,Huge nerves to suffer, and a neck to choke—That woman were Poppaea! I would rearAbout the timeless sea, my mother’s bier,A sky-roofed desolation groined with awe,Where, nightly drifting in the stream of law,The vestal stars should tend their fires, and weepTo hear upon the melancholy deepThat shipless wind, her ghost, amid the hush!Alas! I have but one white throat to crushWith these world-hungry fingers!
This deed I mean to doUnties the snarl, but broken is the thread.Would that the haughty blood these hands will shedMight warm my mother! that the breath I crush—So—(clutching air) from that throat of sorceries, might rushInto the breast that loved and nurtured me!The heart of Nero shivers in the sea,And Rome is lorn of pity!Could the worldAnd all her crawling spawn this night be hurledInto one woman’s form, with eyes to shedRivers of scalding woe, her towering headJeweled with realms aflare, with locks of smoke,Huge nerves to suffer, and a neck to choke—That woman were Poppaea! I would rearAbout the timeless sea, my mother’s bier,A sky-roofed desolation groined with awe,Where, nightly drifting in the stream of law,The vestal stars should tend their fires, and weepTo hear upon the melancholy deepThat shipless wind, her ghost, amid the hush!Alas! I have but one white throat to crushWith these world-hungry fingers!
This deed I mean to doUnties the snarl, but broken is the thread.Would that the haughty blood these hands will shedMight warm my mother! that the breath I crush—So—(clutching air) from that throat of sorceries, might rushInto the breast that loved and nurtured me!The heart of Nero shivers in the sea,And Rome is lorn of pity!Could the worldAnd all her crawling spawn this night be hurledInto one woman’s form, with eyes to shedRivers of scalding woe, her towering headJeweled with realms aflare, with locks of smoke,Huge nerves to suffer, and a neck to choke—That woman were Poppaea! I would rearAbout the timeless sea, my mother’s bier,A sky-roofed desolation groined with awe,Where, nightly drifting in the stream of law,The vestal stars should tend their fires, and weepTo hear upon the melancholy deepThat shipless wind, her ghost, amid the hush!Alas! I have but one white throat to crushWith these world-hungry fingers!
This deed I mean to do
Unties the snarl, but broken is the thread.
Would that the haughty blood these hands will shed
Might warm my mother! that the breath I crush—
So—(clutching air) from that throat of sorceries, might rush
Into the breast that loved and nurtured me!
The heart of Nero shivers in the sea,
And Rome is lorn of pity!
Could the world
And all her crawling spawn this night be hurled
Into one woman’s form, with eyes to shed
Rivers of scalding woe, her towering head
Jeweled with realms aflare, with locks of smoke,
Huge nerves to suffer, and a neck to choke—
That woman were Poppaea! I would rear
About the timeless sea, my mother’s bier,
A sky-roofed desolation groined with awe,
Where, nightly drifting in the stream of law,
The vestal stars should tend their fires, and weep
To hear upon the melancholy deep
That shipless wind, her ghost, amid the hush!
Alas! I have but one white throat to crush
With these world-hungry fingers!
(From behind Nero, enter Page—a little boy—bearing a goblet of wine on a salver. Nero turns, startled.)
Ah!—You!—You!
Ah!—You!—You!
Ah!—You!—You!
Ah!—You!—You!
Page
Page
Page
I bring wine, mighty Caesar.
I bring wine, mighty Caesar.
I bring wine, mighty Caesar.
I bring wine, mighty Caesar.
(Nero passes his hand across his face, and the expression of fright leaves.)
Nero
Nero
Nero
So you do—I saw—the boy Brittanicus!—One sees—Things—does one not?—such eerie nights as these?
So you do—I saw—the boy Brittanicus!—One sees—Things—does one not?—such eerie nights as these?
So you do—I saw—the boy Brittanicus!—One sees—Things—does one not?—such eerie nights as these?
So you do—
I saw—the boy Brittanicus!—One sees—
Things—does one not?—such eerie nights as these?
Page
Page
Page
(With eager boyish earnestness.)
With woozy heads?
With woozy heads?
With woozy heads?
With woozy heads?
Nero
Nero
Nero
(Irritably.)
The wine!
The wine!
The wine!
The wine!
(The Page, startled, presents the salver, from which Nero takes the goblet with unsteady hand. Page is in the act of fleeing.)
Stay!
Stay!
Stay!
Stay!
(Page stops and turns tremblingly.)
Never dareAgain to look like—anyone! Beware!
Never dareAgain to look like—anyone! Beware!
Never dareAgain to look like—anyone! Beware!
Never dare
Again to look like—anyone! Beware!
(Page’s head shakes a timid negative. Nero stares into goblet and muses.)
Blood’s red too. Ah, a woman is the grapeRipe for the vintage, from whose flesh agapeGlad feet tonight shall stamp the hated ooze!It boils!—See!—like some witch’s pot that brewsVenomous ichor!—Nay—some angry ghostHurls bloody breakers on a bleeding coast!—’Tis poisoned!—Out, Locusta’s brat!
Blood’s red too. Ah, a woman is the grapeRipe for the vintage, from whose flesh agapeGlad feet tonight shall stamp the hated ooze!It boils!—See!—like some witch’s pot that brewsVenomous ichor!—Nay—some angry ghostHurls bloody breakers on a bleeding coast!—’Tis poisoned!—Out, Locusta’s brat!
Blood’s red too. Ah, a woman is the grapeRipe for the vintage, from whose flesh agapeGlad feet tonight shall stamp the hated ooze!It boils!—See!—like some witch’s pot that brewsVenomous ichor!—Nay—some angry ghostHurls bloody breakers on a bleeding coast!—’Tis poisoned!—Out, Locusta’s brat!
Blood’s red too. Ah, a woman is the grape
Ripe for the vintage, from whose flesh agape
Glad feet tonight shall stamp the hated ooze!
It boils!—See!—like some witch’s pot that brews
Venomous ichor!—Nay—some angry ghost
Hurls bloody breakers on a bleeding coast!—
’Tis poisoned!—Out, Locusta’s brat!
(Hurls goblet at Page, who flees precipitately.)
‘Twas she!The hand that flung my mother to the seaNow pours me death!Alas, great HerculesToo long has plied the distaff at the kneesOf Omphale, spinning a thread of woe!Was ever king of story driven soBy unrelenting Fate? Lo, round on roundThe slow coils grip and choke—a mother drowned,Her wrathful spirit rising from the dead—A gentle wife outcast, discredited,With sighs to wake the dread Eumenides!Some thunder-hearted, vaster Sophocles,His aeon-beating blood the stellar stream,Has flung on me the mantle of his dream,And Nero grapples Fate! O wondrous play!With smoking brand aloft, the haggard DayGropes for the world! Pursued by subtle foes,Superbly tragic ‘mid a storm of woes,The fury-hunted Caesar takes the cue!One time-outstaring deed remains to do,Then let the pit howl—Caesar sings no more!Go ask the battered wreckage on the shoreWho sought his mother in a sudden sleep,To be with her forever on the deepA twin ship-hating tempest!
‘Twas she!The hand that flung my mother to the seaNow pours me death!Alas, great HerculesToo long has plied the distaff at the kneesOf Omphale, spinning a thread of woe!Was ever king of story driven soBy unrelenting Fate? Lo, round on roundThe slow coils grip and choke—a mother drowned,Her wrathful spirit rising from the dead—A gentle wife outcast, discredited,With sighs to wake the dread Eumenides!Some thunder-hearted, vaster Sophocles,His aeon-beating blood the stellar stream,Has flung on me the mantle of his dream,And Nero grapples Fate! O wondrous play!With smoking brand aloft, the haggard DayGropes for the world! Pursued by subtle foes,Superbly tragic ‘mid a storm of woes,The fury-hunted Caesar takes the cue!One time-outstaring deed remains to do,Then let the pit howl—Caesar sings no more!Go ask the battered wreckage on the shoreWho sought his mother in a sudden sleep,To be with her forever on the deepA twin ship-hating tempest!
‘Twas she!The hand that flung my mother to the seaNow pours me death!Alas, great HerculesToo long has plied the distaff at the kneesOf Omphale, spinning a thread of woe!Was ever king of story driven soBy unrelenting Fate? Lo, round on roundThe slow coils grip and choke—a mother drowned,Her wrathful spirit rising from the dead—A gentle wife outcast, discredited,With sighs to wake the dread Eumenides!Some thunder-hearted, vaster Sophocles,His aeon-beating blood the stellar stream,Has flung on me the mantle of his dream,And Nero grapples Fate! O wondrous play!With smoking brand aloft, the haggard DayGropes for the world! Pursued by subtle foes,Superbly tragic ‘mid a storm of woes,The fury-hunted Caesar takes the cue!One time-outstaring deed remains to do,Then let the pit howl—Caesar sings no more!Go ask the battered wreckage on the shoreWho sought his mother in a sudden sleep,To be with her forever on the deepA twin ship-hating tempest!
‘Twas she!
The hand that flung my mother to the sea
Now pours me death!
Alas, great Hercules
Too long has plied the distaff at the knees
Of Omphale, spinning a thread of woe!
Was ever king of story driven so
By unrelenting Fate? Lo, round on round
The slow coils grip and choke—a mother drowned,
Her wrathful spirit rising from the dead—
A gentle wife outcast, discredited,
With sighs to wake the dread Eumenides!
Some thunder-hearted, vaster Sophocles,
His aeon-beating blood the stellar stream,
Has flung on me the mantle of his dream,
And Nero grapples Fate! O wondrous play!
With smoking brand aloft, the haggard Day
Gropes for the world! Pursued by subtle foes,
Superbly tragic ‘mid a storm of woes,
The fury-hunted Caesar takes the cue!
One time-outstaring deed remains to do,
Then let the pit howl—Caesar sings no more!
Go ask the battered wreckage on the shore
Who sought his mother in a sudden sleep,
To be with her forever on the deep
A twin ship-hating tempest!
(Enter Anicetus excitedly.)
Anicetus
Anicetus
Anicetus
Lost! We’re lost!The Roman ship yaws rock-ward tempest-tossedAnd Nero is but Lucius in the wreck!
Lost! We’re lost!The Roman ship yaws rock-ward tempest-tossedAnd Nero is but Lucius in the wreck!
Lost! We’re lost!The Roman ship yaws rock-ward tempest-tossedAnd Nero is but Lucius in the wreck!
Lost! We’re lost!
The Roman ship yaws rock-ward tempest-tossed
And Nero is but Lucius in the wreck!
Nero
Nero
Nero
Croak on! Each croak’s a dagger in that neck,You vulture with the hideous dripping beak,The clutching tearing talons that now reekWith what dear sacred veins!
Croak on! Each croak’s a dagger in that neck,You vulture with the hideous dripping beak,The clutching tearing talons that now reekWith what dear sacred veins!
Croak on! Each croak’s a dagger in that neck,You vulture with the hideous dripping beak,The clutching tearing talons that now reekWith what dear sacred veins!
Croak on! Each croak’s a dagger in that neck,
You vulture with the hideous dripping beak,
The clutching tearing talons that now reek
With what dear sacred veins!
Anicetus
Anicetus
Anicetus
O Caesar, hear!So keen the news I bear you, that I fearTo loose it like the arrow it must be.I know not why such wrath you heap on me;I know what peril deepens ‘round my lord;How, riven by the lightning of the sword,The doom-voiced blackness labors round his head!
O Caesar, hear!So keen the news I bear you, that I fearTo loose it like the arrow it must be.I know not why such wrath you heap on me;I know what peril deepens ‘round my lord;How, riven by the lightning of the sword,The doom-voiced blackness labors round his head!
O Caesar, hear!So keen the news I bear you, that I fearTo loose it like the arrow it must be.I know not why such wrath you heap on me;I know what peril deepens ‘round my lord;How, riven by the lightning of the sword,The doom-voiced blackness labors round his head!
O Caesar, hear!
So keen the news I bear you, that I fear
To loose it like the arrow it must be.
I know not why such wrath you heap on me;
I know what peril deepens ‘round my lord;
How, riven by the lightning of the sword,
The doom-voiced blackness labors round his head!
Nero
Nero
Nero
Say what I know, that my poor mother’s dead—So shall your life be briefer!
Say what I know, that my poor mother’s dead—So shall your life be briefer!
Say what I know, that my poor mother’s dead—So shall your life be briefer!
Say what I know, that my poor mother’s dead—
So shall your life be briefer!
Anicetus
Anicetus
Anicetus
Would ‘t were so!
Would ‘t were so!
Would ‘t were so!
Would ‘t were so!
Nero
Nero
Nero
(A light coming into his face.)
She lives?
She lives?
She lives?
She lives?
Anicetus
Anicetus
Anicetus
Yea, lives—and lives to overthrow!
Yea, lives—and lives to overthrow!
Yea, lives—and lives to overthrow!
Yea, lives—and lives to overthrow!
Nero
Nero
Nero
Not perished?
Not perished?
Not perished?
Not perished?
Anicetus
Anicetus
Anicetus
—And her living is our death!
—And her living is our death!
—And her living is our death!
—And her living is our death!
Nero
Nero
Nero
She moves and breathes?
She moves and breathes?
She moves and breathes?
She moves and breathes?
Anicetus
Anicetus
Anicetus
—And potent is her breathTo blow rebellion up!
—And potent is her breathTo blow rebellion up!
—And potent is her breathTo blow rebellion up!
—And potent is her breath
To blow rebellion up!
Nero
Nero
Nero
(Rubbing his eyes.)
Still do I sleep?Is this a taunting dream that I may weepMore bitterly? Or some new foul intrigue?
Still do I sleep?Is this a taunting dream that I may weepMore bitterly? Or some new foul intrigue?
Still do I sleep?Is this a taunting dream that I may weepMore bitterly? Or some new foul intrigue?
Still do I sleep?
Is this a taunting dream that I may weep
More bitterly? Or some new foul intrigue?
Anicetus
Anicetus
Anicetus
‘Tis bitter fact to her who swam a league,And bitter fact to Nero shall it be!At Bauli now, still dripping from the sea,She crouches snarling!
‘Tis bitter fact to her who swam a league,And bitter fact to Nero shall it be!At Bauli now, still dripping from the sea,She crouches snarling!
‘Tis bitter fact to her who swam a league,And bitter fact to Nero shall it be!At Bauli now, still dripping from the sea,She crouches snarling!
‘Tis bitter fact to her who swam a league,
And bitter fact to Nero shall it be!
At Bauli now, still dripping from the sea,
She crouches snarling!
Nero
Nero
Nero
(In an outburst of joy.)
Oh, you shall not die,My best-loved Anicetus! Though you lie,Sweeter these words are than profoundest truth!They breathe the fresh, white morning of my youthUpon the lampless night that smothered me!O more than human SeaThat spared my mother that her son might live!What bounty can I give?I—Caesar—falter beggared at this giftOf living words that liftMy mother from the regions of the dead!Ah—I shall set a crown upon your head,Snip you a kingdom from Rome’s flowing robe!I’ll temple you in splendors! Yea, I’ll probeYour secret heart to know what wishes pantIn wingless yearning there, that I may grant!
Oh, you shall not die,My best-loved Anicetus! Though you lie,Sweeter these words are than profoundest truth!They breathe the fresh, white morning of my youthUpon the lampless night that smothered me!O more than human SeaThat spared my mother that her son might live!What bounty can I give?I—Caesar—falter beggared at this giftOf living words that liftMy mother from the regions of the dead!Ah—I shall set a crown upon your head,Snip you a kingdom from Rome’s flowing robe!I’ll temple you in splendors! Yea, I’ll probeYour secret heart to know what wishes pantIn wingless yearning there, that I may grant!
Oh, you shall not die,My best-loved Anicetus! Though you lie,Sweeter these words are than profoundest truth!They breathe the fresh, white morning of my youthUpon the lampless night that smothered me!O more than human SeaThat spared my mother that her son might live!What bounty can I give?I—Caesar—falter beggared at this giftOf living words that liftMy mother from the regions of the dead!Ah—I shall set a crown upon your head,Snip you a kingdom from Rome’s flowing robe!I’ll temple you in splendors! Yea, I’ll probeYour secret heart to know what wishes pantIn wingless yearning there, that I may grant!
Oh, you shall not die,
My best-loved Anicetus! Though you lie,
Sweeter these words are than profoundest truth!
They breathe the fresh, white morning of my youth
Upon the lampless night that smothered me!
O more than human Sea
That spared my mother that her son might live!
What bounty can I give?
I—Caesar—falter beggared at this gift
Of living words that lift
My mother from the regions of the dead!
Ah—I shall set a crown upon your head,
Snip you a kingdom from Rome’s flowing robe!
I’ll temple you in splendors! Yea, I’ll probe
Your secret heart to know what wishes pant
In wingless yearning there, that I may grant!
(Pause, while Anicetus regards Nero with gloomy face.)
What sight thus makes your face a pool of gloom?
What sight thus makes your face a pool of gloom?
What sight thus makes your face a pool of gloom?
What sight thus makes your face a pool of gloom?
Anicetus
Anicetus
Anicetus
The ghost of Nero crying from his tomb!
The ghost of Nero crying from his tomb!
The ghost of Nero crying from his tomb!
The ghost of Nero crying from his tomb!
Nero
Nero
Nero
(Startled.)
Eh?—Nero’s ghost—mine?
Eh?—Nero’s ghost—mine?
Eh?—Nero’s ghost—mine?
Eh?—Nero’s ghost—mine?
Anicetus
Anicetus
Anicetus
Even so I said.The doomed to perish are already deadWho woo not Fate with swift unerring deeds!That breathless moment when the tigress bleedsIs ours to strike in, ere the tigress spring!What could it boot your servant to be kingWhile any moment may the trumpets cry,Hailing the certain hour when we shall die—Caesar, the deaf, and his untrusted slave?Peer deep, peer deep into this yawning graveAnd tell me who shall fill it!—Wind and fire,Harnessed with thrice the ghost of her dead sire,Your mother is tonight! She knows, she knowsHow galleys founder when no tempest blowsAnd moonlight slumbers on a glassy deep!The beast our wound has wakened shall not sleepTill it be gorged with slaughter, or be slain!Lull not your heart, O Caesar! It is vainTo dream this cub-lorn tigress will not turn.Lo, flaring through the dawn I see her burn,A torch of revolution! Hear her raiseThe legions with a voice of other days,Worded with pangs to fret their ancient scars!And every sword-wound of her father’s warsWill shriek aloud with pity!
Even so I said.The doomed to perish are already deadWho woo not Fate with swift unerring deeds!That breathless moment when the tigress bleedsIs ours to strike in, ere the tigress spring!What could it boot your servant to be kingWhile any moment may the trumpets cry,Hailing the certain hour when we shall die—Caesar, the deaf, and his untrusted slave?Peer deep, peer deep into this yawning graveAnd tell me who shall fill it!—Wind and fire,Harnessed with thrice the ghost of her dead sire,Your mother is tonight! She knows, she knowsHow galleys founder when no tempest blowsAnd moonlight slumbers on a glassy deep!The beast our wound has wakened shall not sleepTill it be gorged with slaughter, or be slain!Lull not your heart, O Caesar! It is vainTo dream this cub-lorn tigress will not turn.Lo, flaring through the dawn I see her burn,A torch of revolution! Hear her raiseThe legions with a voice of other days,Worded with pangs to fret their ancient scars!And every sword-wound of her father’s warsWill shriek aloud with pity!
Even so I said.The doomed to perish are already deadWho woo not Fate with swift unerring deeds!That breathless moment when the tigress bleedsIs ours to strike in, ere the tigress spring!What could it boot your servant to be kingWhile any moment may the trumpets cry,Hailing the certain hour when we shall die—Caesar, the deaf, and his untrusted slave?Peer deep, peer deep into this yawning graveAnd tell me who shall fill it!—Wind and fire,Harnessed with thrice the ghost of her dead sire,Your mother is tonight! She knows, she knowsHow galleys founder when no tempest blowsAnd moonlight slumbers on a glassy deep!The beast our wound has wakened shall not sleepTill it be gorged with slaughter, or be slain!Lull not your heart, O Caesar! It is vainTo dream this cub-lorn tigress will not turn.Lo, flaring through the dawn I see her burn,A torch of revolution! Hear her raiseThe legions with a voice of other days,Worded with pangs to fret their ancient scars!And every sword-wound of her father’s warsWill shriek aloud with pity!
Even so I said.
The doomed to perish are already dead
Who woo not Fate with swift unerring deeds!
That breathless moment when the tigress bleeds
Is ours to strike in, ere the tigress spring!
What could it boot your servant to be king
While any moment may the trumpets cry,
Hailing the certain hour when we shall die—
Caesar, the deaf, and his untrusted slave?
Peer deep, peer deep into this yawning grave
And tell me who shall fill it!—Wind and fire,
Harnessed with thrice the ghost of her dead sire,
Your mother is tonight! She knows, she knows
How galleys founder when no tempest blows
And moonlight slumbers on a glassy deep!
The beast our wound has wakened shall not sleep
Till it be gorged with slaughter, or be slain!
Lull not your heart, O Caesar! It is vain
To dream this cub-lorn tigress will not turn.
Lo, flaring through the dawn I see her burn,
A torch of revolution! Hear her raise
The legions with a voice of other days,
Worded with pangs to fret their ancient scars!
And every sword-wound of her father’s wars
Will shriek aloud with pity!
Nero
Nero
Nero
(During Anicetus’ speech he has shown growing fear.)
Listen!—There!You heard it?—Did you hear a trumpet blare?
Listen!—There!You heard it?—Did you hear a trumpet blare?
Listen!—There!You heard it?—Did you hear a trumpet blare?
Listen!—There!
You heard it?—Did you hear a trumpet blare?
Anicetus
Anicetus
Anicetus
‘Tis but the shadow of a sound to beOne rushing hour away!
‘Tis but the shadow of a sound to beOne rushing hour away!
‘Tis but the shadow of a sound to beOne rushing hour away!
‘Tis but the shadow of a sound to be
One rushing hour away!
Nero
Nero
Nero
(In panic.)
Where shall I flee?—I, the sad poet whom she made a king!At last we flesh the ghost of what we sing—We bards!—I sang Orestes.
Where shall I flee?—I, the sad poet whom she made a king!At last we flesh the ghost of what we sing—We bards!—I sang Orestes.
Where shall I flee?—I, the sad poet whom she made a king!At last we flesh the ghost of what we sing—We bards!—I sang Orestes.
Where shall I flee?—
I, the sad poet whom she made a king!
At last we flesh the ghost of what we sing—
We bards!—I sang Orestes.
(His face softens with a gentler thought.)
Ah—I’ll goTo my poor heartsick mother. Tears shall flow,The tears of Lucius, not imperial tears.I’ll heap on her the vast, too vast arrearsOf filial love. The Senate shall proclaimMy mother regnant with me—write her nameBeside Augustus with the demigods!Yea, lictors shall attend her with the rods,And massed Praetorians tramp the rabble downWhene’er her chariot flashes through the town!One should be kind to mothers.
Ah—I’ll goTo my poor heartsick mother. Tears shall flow,The tears of Lucius, not imperial tears.I’ll heap on her the vast, too vast arrearsOf filial love. The Senate shall proclaimMy mother regnant with me—write her nameBeside Augustus with the demigods!Yea, lictors shall attend her with the rods,And massed Praetorians tramp the rabble downWhene’er her chariot flashes through the town!One should be kind to mothers.
Ah—I’ll goTo my poor heartsick mother. Tears shall flow,The tears of Lucius, not imperial tears.I’ll heap on her the vast, too vast arrearsOf filial love. The Senate shall proclaimMy mother regnant with me—write her nameBeside Augustus with the demigods!Yea, lictors shall attend her with the rods,And massed Praetorians tramp the rabble downWhene’er her chariot flashes through the town!One should be kind to mothers.
Ah—I’ll go
To my poor heartsick mother. Tears shall flow,
The tears of Lucius, not imperial tears.
I’ll heap on her the vast, too vast arrears
Of filial love. The Senate shall proclaim
My mother regnant with me—write her name
Beside Augustus with the demigods!
Yea, lictors shall attend her with the rods,
And massed Praetorians tramp the rabble down
Whene’er her chariot flashes through the town!
One should be kind to mothers.
Anicetus
Anicetus
Anicetus
Yea, and beKind to the senseless fury of the sea,Fondle the tempest in a rotten boat!
Yea, and beKind to the senseless fury of the sea,Fondle the tempest in a rotten boat!
Yea, and beKind to the senseless fury of the sea,Fondle the tempest in a rotten boat!
Yea, and be
Kind to the senseless fury of the sea,
Fondle the tempest in a rotten boat!
Nero
Nero
Nero
What would you, Anicetus?
What would you, Anicetus?
What would you, Anicetus?
What would you, Anicetus?
Anicetus
Anicetus
Anicetus
Cut her throat!
Cut her throat!
Cut her throat!
Cut her throat!
(Nero gasps and shrinks from Anicetus.)
Nero
Nero
Nero
No, no!—her ghost!—one can not stab so deep—One can not kill these tortures spawned of sleep!No, no—one can not kill them with a sword!
No, no!—her ghost!—one can not stab so deep—One can not kill these tortures spawned of sleep!No, no—one can not kill them with a sword!
No, no!—her ghost!—one can not stab so deep—One can not kill these tortures spawned of sleep!No, no—one can not kill them with a sword!
No, no!—her ghost!—one can not stab so deep—
One can not kill these tortures spawned of sleep!
No, no—one can not kill them with a sword!
Anicetus
Anicetus
Anicetus
Faugh! One good thrust—the rest is air, my lord!
Faugh! One good thrust—the rest is air, my lord!
Faugh! One good thrust—the rest is air, my lord!
Faugh! One good thrust—the rest is air, my lord!
(Enter Page timorously. Nero turns upon him.)
Page
Page
Page
(Frightened.)
Spare me, good Caesar!—Agerinus—
Spare me, good Caesar!—Agerinus—
Spare me, good Caesar!—Agerinus—
Spare me, good Caesar!—Agerinus—
Nero
Nero
Nero
Go!Bid Agerinus enter!
Go!Bid Agerinus enter!
Go!Bid Agerinus enter!
Go!
Bid Agerinus enter!
(Page flees. Nero to Anicetus menacingly.)
We shall knowWhat breath from what damned throat tonight shall hiss!
We shall knowWhat breath from what damned throat tonight shall hiss!
We shall knowWhat breath from what damned throat tonight shall hiss!
We shall know
What breath from what damned throat tonight shall hiss!
(Enter Agerinus, bowing low.)
Agerinus
Agerinus
Agerinus
My mistress sends fond greetings and a kissTo her most noble son, and bids me say,She rests and would not see him until day.The royal galley, through unhappy chance,Struck rock and foundered; but no circumstanceSo meagre might deprive a son so dearOf his beloved mother! Have no fear,The long swim leaves her weary, but quite well.She knows what tender love her son would tellAnd yearns for dawn to bring him to her side.
My mistress sends fond greetings and a kissTo her most noble son, and bids me say,She rests and would not see him until day.The royal galley, through unhappy chance,Struck rock and foundered; but no circumstanceSo meagre might deprive a son so dearOf his beloved mother! Have no fear,The long swim leaves her weary, but quite well.She knows what tender love her son would tellAnd yearns for dawn to bring him to her side.
My mistress sends fond greetings and a kissTo her most noble son, and bids me say,She rests and would not see him until day.The royal galley, through unhappy chance,Struck rock and foundered; but no circumstanceSo meagre might deprive a son so dearOf his beloved mother! Have no fear,The long swim leaves her weary, but quite well.She knows what tender love her son would tellAnd yearns for dawn to bring him to her side.
My mistress sends fond greetings and a kiss
To her most noble son, and bids me say,
She rests and would not see him until day.
The royal galley, through unhappy chance,
Struck rock and foundered; but no circumstance
So meagre might deprive a son so dear
Of his beloved mother! Have no fear,
The long swim leaves her weary, but quite well.
She knows what tender love her son would tell
And yearns for dawn to bring him to her side.
Nero
Nero
Nero
(To Anicetus.)
So! Spell your doom from that! You lied! You lied!I’ll lance that hateful fester in your throat!Yea, we shall prove who rides the rotten boatAnd supplicates the tempest!
So! Spell your doom from that! You lied! You lied!I’ll lance that hateful fester in your throat!Yea, we shall prove who rides the rotten boatAnd supplicates the tempest!
So! Spell your doom from that! You lied! You lied!I’ll lance that hateful fester in your throat!Yea, we shall prove who rides the rotten boatAnd supplicates the tempest!
So! Spell your doom from that! You lied! You lied!
I’ll lance that hateful fester in your throat!
Yea, we shall prove who rides the rotten boat
And supplicates the tempest!
(With a rapid motion, Nero draws Agerinus’ sword from its sheath. Anicetus shrinks back. Nero cries to Agerinus.)
Wait to seeThe loving message you bear back from me!
Wait to seeThe loving message you bear back from me!
Wait to seeThe loving message you bear back from me!
Wait to see
The loving message you bear back from me!
(Nero brandishing the sword, makes at Anicetus. As he is about to deliver the stroke, enter Poppaea from behind. She has evidently beenquite leisurely about her toilet, being dressed gorgeously; and wearing her accustomed half-veil. Her manner is stately and composed. She approaches slowly. Nero stops suddenly in the act to strike Anicetus, and stares upon the beautiful apparition. Anger leaves his face, which changes as though he had seen a great light.)
Poppaea
Poppaea
Poppaea
(Languidly.)
My Nero longed for me?
My Nero longed for me?
My Nero longed for me?
My Nero longed for me?
(Nero with his free hand brushes his eyes in perplexity.)
Nero
Nero
Nero
I—can not—tell—What—‘twas—I wished—I wished—
I—can not—tell—What—‘twas—I wished—I wished—
I—can not—tell—What—‘twas—I wished—I wished—
I—can not—tell—
What—‘twas—I wished—I wished—
Poppaea
Poppaea
Poppaea
(Haughtily.)
Ah, very well.
Ah, very well.
Ah, very well.
Ah, very well.
(She walks slowly on across the stage. Nerostares blankly after her. The sword drops from his hand. As Poppaea disappears, he rouses suddenly as from a stupor.)
Nero
Nero
Nero
Ho! Guards!
Ho! Guards!
Ho! Guards!
Ho! Guards!
(Three soldiers enter. Nero points to Agerinus.)
There—seize that wretch who came to kill Imperial Caesar!
There—seize that wretch who came to kill Imperial Caesar!
There—seize that wretch who came to kill Imperial Caesar!
(Agerinus is seized. Nero turns to Anicetus.)
Hasten! Do your will!
(Nero turns, and with an eager expression on his face, goes doddering after Poppaea.)
(The same night. Agrippina’s private chamber in her villa at Bauli near Baiae. There is one lamp in the room. At the center back is a broad door closed with heavy hangings. At the right is an open window through which the moonlight falls. Agrippina is discoveredlying on a couch. One maid, Nina, is in attendance and is arranging Agrippina’s hair.)
Agrippina
Agrippina
Agrippina
He was so tender—what should kindness mean?
He was so tender—what should kindness mean?
He was so tender—what should kindness mean?
He was so tender—what should kindness mean?
(The maid seems not to hear.)
I spoke!—you heard me speak?
I spoke!—you heard me speak?
I spoke!—you heard me speak?
I spoke!—you heard me speak?
Nina
Nina
Nina
I heard, my Queen.
I heard, my Queen.
I heard, my Queen.
I heard, my Queen.
Agrippina
Agrippina
Agrippina
And deemed my voice some ghostly summer windFit for autumnal hushes? He was kind!Was ever breath in utterance better spent?
And deemed my voice some ghostly summer windFit for autumnal hushes? He was kind!Was ever breath in utterance better spent?
And deemed my voice some ghostly summer windFit for autumnal hushes? He was kind!Was ever breath in utterance better spent?
And deemed my voice some ghostly summer wind
Fit for autumnal hushes? He was kind!
Was ever breath in utterance better spent?
Nina
Nina
Nina
Your slave could scarcely fancy whom you meant,There are so many tender to the great.
Your slave could scarcely fancy whom you meant,There are so many tender to the great.
Your slave could scarcely fancy whom you meant,There are so many tender to the great.
Your slave could scarcely fancy whom you meant,
There are so many tender to the great.
Agrippina
Agrippina
Agrippina
When all the world is one sky-circled state,Pray, who shall fill it as the sun the sky?The mother of that mighty one am I—And he caressed me!I shall feel no painForever now. So, drenched with winter rain,The friendless marshland knows the boyish SouthAnd shivers into color!On the mouthHe kissed me, as before that other came—That Helen of the stews, that corpse aflameWith lust for life, that—Ah, he maidened me!What dying wind could sway so tall a treeWith such proud music? I shall be againThat darkling whirlwind down the fields of men,That dart unloosed, barbed keenly for his sake,That living sword for him to wield or break,But never sheathe!
When all the world is one sky-circled state,Pray, who shall fill it as the sun the sky?The mother of that mighty one am I—And he caressed me!I shall feel no painForever now. So, drenched with winter rain,The friendless marshland knows the boyish SouthAnd shivers into color!On the mouthHe kissed me, as before that other came—That Helen of the stews, that corpse aflameWith lust for life, that—Ah, he maidened me!What dying wind could sway so tall a treeWith such proud music? I shall be againThat darkling whirlwind down the fields of men,That dart unloosed, barbed keenly for his sake,That living sword for him to wield or break,But never sheathe!
When all the world is one sky-circled state,Pray, who shall fill it as the sun the sky?The mother of that mighty one am I—And he caressed me!I shall feel no painForever now. So, drenched with winter rain,The friendless marshland knows the boyish SouthAnd shivers into color!On the mouthHe kissed me, as before that other came—That Helen of the stews, that corpse aflameWith lust for life, that—Ah, he maidened me!What dying wind could sway so tall a treeWith such proud music? I shall be againThat darkling whirlwind down the fields of men,That dart unloosed, barbed keenly for his sake,That living sword for him to wield or break,But never sheathe!
When all the world is one sky-circled state,
Pray, who shall fill it as the sun the sky?
The mother of that mighty one am I—
And he caressed me!
I shall feel no pain
Forever now. So, drenched with winter rain,
The friendless marshland knows the boyish South
And shivers into color!
On the mouth
He kissed me, as before that other came—
That Helen of the stews, that corpse aflame
With lust for life, that—
Ah, he maidened me!
What dying wind could sway so tall a tree
With such proud music? I shall be again
That darkling whirlwind down the fields of men,
That dart unloosed, barbed keenly for his sake,
That living sword for him to wield or break,
But never sheathe!
(Lifts herself on elbow.)
O Nina, let me beRobed as the Queen I am in verity!Robed as a victrix home from splendid wars,Whom, ‘mid the rumble of spoil-laden carsTrundled by harnessed kings, the trumpets hail!Let quiet garments be for those who fail,Mourning a world ill-lost with meek surrenders!I would flare bright ‘mid Death’s unhuman splendors,Dazzle the moony hollows of the dead!Ah no—
O Nina, let me beRobed as the Queen I am in verity!Robed as a victrix home from splendid wars,Whom, ‘mid the rumble of spoil-laden carsTrundled by harnessed kings, the trumpets hail!Let quiet garments be for those who fail,Mourning a world ill-lost with meek surrenders!I would flare bright ‘mid Death’s unhuman splendors,Dazzle the moony hollows of the dead!Ah no—
O Nina, let me beRobed as the Queen I am in verity!Robed as a victrix home from splendid wars,Whom, ‘mid the rumble of spoil-laden carsTrundled by harnessed kings, the trumpets hail!Let quiet garments be for those who fail,Mourning a world ill-lost with meek surrenders!I would flare bright ‘mid Death’s unhuman splendors,Dazzle the moony hollows of the dead!Ah no—
O Nina, let me be
Robed as the Queen I am in verity!
Robed as a victrix home from splendid wars,
Whom, ‘mid the rumble of spoil-laden cars
Trundled by harnessed kings, the trumpets hail!
Let quiet garments be for those who fail,
Mourning a world ill-lost with meek surrenders!
I would flare bright ‘mid Death’s unhuman splendors,
Dazzle the moony hollows of the dead!
Ah no—
(Arising and going to window.)
I shall not die yet.
I shall not die yet.
I shall not die yet.
I shall not die yet.
(Parts the curtains and gazes out.)
Nina
Nina
Nina
‘Tis the dreadStill clinging from the clutches of the sea,That living, writhing horror! Ugh! O’er meAlmost I feel the liquid terror crawl!Through glassy worlds of tortured sleep to fall,Where winds blow not, nor mornings ever blush,But green, cold, ghastly light-wraiths wander—
‘Tis the dreadStill clinging from the clutches of the sea,That living, writhing horror! Ugh! O’er meAlmost I feel the liquid terror crawl!Through glassy worlds of tortured sleep to fall,Where winds blow not, nor mornings ever blush,But green, cold, ghastly light-wraiths wander—
‘Tis the dreadStill clinging from the clutches of the sea,That living, writhing horror! Ugh! O’er meAlmost I feel the liquid terror crawl!Through glassy worlds of tortured sleep to fall,Where winds blow not, nor mornings ever blush,But green, cold, ghastly light-wraiths wander—
‘Tis the dread
Still clinging from the clutches of the sea,
That living, writhing horror! Ugh! O’er me
Almost I feel the liquid terror crawl!
Through glassy worlds of tortured sleep to fall,
Where winds blow not, nor mornings ever blush,
But green, cold, ghastly light-wraiths wander—
Agrippina
Agrippina
Agrippina
(Turning from window with nervous anger.)
Hush!
Hush!
Hush!
Hush!
(Turns again to window; after pause, continues musingly.)
She battles in a surf of spectral fire.No—like some queen upon a funeral pyre,Gasping, she withers in a fever swoon.Had she a son too?
She battles in a surf of spectral fire.No—like some queen upon a funeral pyre,Gasping, she withers in a fever swoon.Had she a son too?
She battles in a surf of spectral fire.No—like some queen upon a funeral pyre,Gasping, she withers in a fever swoon.Had she a son too?
She battles in a surf of spectral fire.
No—like some queen upon a funeral pyre,
Gasping, she withers in a fever swoon.
Had she a son too?
Nina
Nina
Nina
(Approaching the window.)
Who, O Queen?
Who, O Queen?
Who, O Queen?
Who, O Queen?
Agrippina
Agrippina
Agrippina
The moon!See, she is strangled in a noose of pearl!What tell-tale scars she has!—Look yonder, girl—Your eyes are younger—by the winding seaWhere Baiae glooms and blanches; it may beOld eyes betray not, but some horsemen takeThe white road winding hither by the lake.
The moon!See, she is strangled in a noose of pearl!What tell-tale scars she has!—Look yonder, girl—Your eyes are younger—by the winding seaWhere Baiae glooms and blanches; it may beOld eyes betray not, but some horsemen takeThe white road winding hither by the lake.
The moon!See, she is strangled in a noose of pearl!What tell-tale scars she has!—Look yonder, girl—Your eyes are younger—by the winding seaWhere Baiae glooms and blanches; it may beOld eyes betray not, but some horsemen takeThe white road winding hither by the lake.
The moon!
See, she is strangled in a noose of pearl!
What tell-tale scars she has!
—Look yonder, girl—
Your eyes are younger—by the winding sea
Where Baiae glooms and blanches; it may be
Old eyes betray not, but some horsemen take
The white road winding hither by the lake.
Nina
Nina
Nina
The way lies plain—I see no moving thing.
The way lies plain—I see no moving thing.
The way lies plain—I see no moving thing.
The way lies plain—I see no moving thing.
Agrippina
Agrippina
Agrippina
Why thus is Agerinus loitering?For he was ever true.
Why thus is Agerinus loitering?For he was ever true.
Why thus is Agerinus loitering?For he was ever true.
Why thus is Agerinus loitering?
For he was ever true.
(Joyously.)
Ah foolish head!My heart knows how my son shall come instead,My little Lucius! Even now he leapsInto the saddle and the dull way creepsBeneath the spurred impatience of his horse,He longs so for me!
Ah foolish head!My heart knows how my son shall come instead,My little Lucius! Even now he leapsInto the saddle and the dull way creepsBeneath the spurred impatience of his horse,He longs so for me!
Ah foolish head!My heart knows how my son shall come instead,My little Lucius! Even now he leapsInto the saddle and the dull way creepsBeneath the spurred impatience of his horse,He longs so for me!
Ah foolish head!
My heart knows how my son shall come instead,
My little Lucius! Even now he leaps
Into the saddle and the dull way creeps
Beneath the spurred impatience of his horse,
He longs so for me!
(Pause—She scans the moonlit country.)
Shrouded like a corse,Hoarding a mother’s secret, lies the sea;And Capri, like a giant Niobe,Outgazes Fate!O sweet, too gentle liesAnd kisses sword-like! Would the sun might riseNo more on Baiae! Would that earth might burstSpewing blear doom upon this world accursedWith truth too big for hiding!See! He sleepsBeside her, and the shame-dimmed lamp-light creepsAcross her wine-stained mouth—so red—so red—Like mother blood!—See! hissing round her headFoul hate-fanged vipers that he calls her hair!Ah no—beyond all speaking is she fair!Sweet as a sword-wound in a gasping foeHer mouth is; and too well, too well I knowHer face is dazzling as a funeral flameBattened on queen’s flesh!
Shrouded like a corse,Hoarding a mother’s secret, lies the sea;And Capri, like a giant Niobe,Outgazes Fate!O sweet, too gentle liesAnd kisses sword-like! Would the sun might riseNo more on Baiae! Would that earth might burstSpewing blear doom upon this world accursedWith truth too big for hiding!See! He sleepsBeside her, and the shame-dimmed lamp-light creepsAcross her wine-stained mouth—so red—so red—Like mother blood!—See! hissing round her headFoul hate-fanged vipers that he calls her hair!Ah no—beyond all speaking is she fair!Sweet as a sword-wound in a gasping foeHer mouth is; and too well, too well I knowHer face is dazzling as a funeral flameBattened on queen’s flesh!
Shrouded like a corse,Hoarding a mother’s secret, lies the sea;And Capri, like a giant Niobe,Outgazes Fate!O sweet, too gentle liesAnd kisses sword-like! Would the sun might riseNo more on Baiae! Would that earth might burstSpewing blear doom upon this world accursedWith truth too big for hiding!See! He sleepsBeside her, and the shame-dimmed lamp-light creepsAcross her wine-stained mouth—so red—so red—Like mother blood!—See! hissing round her headFoul hate-fanged vipers that he calls her hair!Ah no—beyond all speaking is she fair!Sweet as a sword-wound in a gasping foeHer mouth is; and too well, too well I knowHer face is dazzling as a funeral flameBattened on queen’s flesh!
Shrouded like a corse,
Hoarding a mother’s secret, lies the sea;
And Capri, like a giant Niobe,
Outgazes Fate!
O sweet, too gentle lies
And kisses sword-like! Would the sun might rise
No more on Baiae! Would that earth might burst
Spewing blear doom upon this world accursed
With truth too big for hiding!
See! He sleeps
Beside her, and the shame-dimmed lamp-light creeps
Across her wine-stained mouth—so red—so red—
Like mother blood!—See! hissing round her head
Foul hate-fanged vipers that he calls her hair!
Ah no—beyond all speaking is she fair!
Sweet as a sword-wound in a gasping foe
Her mouth is; and too well, too well I know
Her face is dazzling as a funeral flame
Battened on queen’s flesh!
(Turning angrily from window.)
Oh the blatant shame!The bungling drunkard’s plot!—Tonight, tonightI shall swoop down upon them by the lightOf naked steel! Faugh! Had it come to that?Had Rome no sword, that like a drowning ratThe mother of a king should meet her end?What Gallic legion would not call me friend?Did they not love Germanicus, my sire?Oh, I will rouse the cohorts, scattering fireTill all Rome blaze rebellion!
Oh the blatant shame!The bungling drunkard’s plot!—Tonight, tonightI shall swoop down upon them by the lightOf naked steel! Faugh! Had it come to that?Had Rome no sword, that like a drowning ratThe mother of a king should meet her end?What Gallic legion would not call me friend?Did they not love Germanicus, my sire?Oh, I will rouse the cohorts, scattering fireTill all Rome blaze rebellion!
Oh the blatant shame!The bungling drunkard’s plot!—Tonight, tonightI shall swoop down upon them by the lightOf naked steel! Faugh! Had it come to that?Had Rome no sword, that like a drowning ratThe mother of a king should meet her end?What Gallic legion would not call me friend?Did they not love Germanicus, my sire?Oh, I will rouse the cohorts, scattering fireTill all Rome blaze rebellion!
Oh the blatant shame!
The bungling drunkard’s plot!—Tonight, tonight
I shall swoop down upon them by the light
Of naked steel! Faugh! Had it come to that?
Had Rome no sword, that like a drowning rat
The mother of a king should meet her end?
What Gallic legion would not call me friend?
Did they not love Germanicus, my sire?
Oh, I will rouse the cohorts, scattering fire
Till all Rome blaze rebellion!
(She has advanced to a place beside the couch, stands in a defiant attitude for a moment, then covers her face with her hands and sinks to the couch.)
No, no, no—It could not be, I would not have it so!Not mine to burn the tower my hands have built!And somewhere ‘mid the shadows of his guiltMy son is good.
No, no, no—It could not be, I would not have it so!Not mine to burn the tower my hands have built!And somewhere ‘mid the shadows of his guiltMy son is good.
No, no, no—It could not be, I would not have it so!Not mine to burn the tower my hands have built!And somewhere ‘mid the shadows of his guiltMy son is good.
No, no, no—
It could not be, I would not have it so!
Not mine to burn the tower my hands have built!
And somewhere ‘mid the shadows of his guilt
My son is good.
(Lifts herself on elbow.)
Look, Nina, toward the roofsOf sleeping Baiae. Say that eager hoofsBeat a white dust-cloud moonward.
Look, Nina, toward the roofsOf sleeping Baiae. Say that eager hoofsBeat a white dust-cloud moonward.
Look, Nina, toward the roofsOf sleeping Baiae. Say that eager hoofsBeat a white dust-cloud moonward.
Look, Nina, toward the roofs
Of sleeping Baiae. Say that eager hoofs
Beat a white dust-cloud moonward.
(Nina goes to window and peers out.)
Nina
Nina
Nina
Landward crawlsA sea fog; Capri’s league-long shadow sprawlsLengthening toward us—soon the moon will set.
Landward crawlsA sea fog; Capri’s league-long shadow sprawlsLengthening toward us—soon the moon will set.
Landward crawlsA sea fog; Capri’s league-long shadow sprawlsLengthening toward us—soon the moon will set.
Landward crawls
A sea fog; Capri’s league-long shadow sprawls
Lengthening toward us—soon the moon will set.
Agrippina
Agrippina
Agrippina
No horsemen?
No horsemen?
No horsemen?
No horsemen?
Nina
Nina
Nina
None, my Queen.
None, my Queen.
None, my Queen.
None, my Queen.
Agrippina
Agrippina
Agrippina
—And yet—and yet—He called me baby names. Ah, ghosts that weptBig tears down smiling faces, twined and creptAbout my heart, and still I feel their tears.They make me joyous.—After all these years,The little boy my heart so often dirgedShivered the man-husk, beardless, and emerged!He kissed my breasts and hung upon my going!Once more I felt the happy nurture flowing,The silvery, tingling shivers of delight!What though my end had come indeed tonight—I was a mother!—Have you children?
—And yet—and yet—He called me baby names. Ah, ghosts that weptBig tears down smiling faces, twined and creptAbout my heart, and still I feel their tears.They make me joyous.—After all these years,The little boy my heart so often dirgedShivered the man-husk, beardless, and emerged!He kissed my breasts and hung upon my going!Once more I felt the happy nurture flowing,The silvery, tingling shivers of delight!What though my end had come indeed tonight—I was a mother!—Have you children?
—And yet—and yet—He called me baby names. Ah, ghosts that weptBig tears down smiling faces, twined and creptAbout my heart, and still I feel their tears.They make me joyous.—After all these years,The little boy my heart so often dirgedShivered the man-husk, beardless, and emerged!He kissed my breasts and hung upon my going!Once more I felt the happy nurture flowing,The silvery, tingling shivers of delight!What though my end had come indeed tonight—I was a mother!—Have you children?
—And yet—and yet—
He called me baby names. Ah, ghosts that wept
Big tears down smiling faces, twined and crept
About my heart, and still I feel their tears.
They make me joyous.—After all these years,
The little boy my heart so often dirged
Shivered the man-husk, beardless, and emerged!
He kissed my breasts and hung upon my going!
Once more I felt the happy nurture flowing,
The silvery, tingling shivers of delight!
What though my end had come indeed tonight—
I was a mother!
—Have you children?