 | Nero |  |
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ACT III
SCENE I
Scene.—Nero's private chamber. Enter Nero hastily and perturbed, followed by Seneca, Burrus, and Tigellinus, his privy-councillors.Burrus.
Caesar, still glides the dead Britannicus
About the palace, and his memory
Your mother, Agrippina, uses: makes
Out of his ghost a faction for herself.
She grows a public peril; much you owe
To her, but more to Rome; from Antium
She rages disappointed to and fro.
Me for your army you hold answerable,
But can no longer if you suffer her
To lure the legions from their loyalty.
Her creatures whisper to your sentinels,
Corrupt your officers, inflame your guards.
A sullen silence on the camp is fallen,
A word, and it will roar in mutiny.
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Everywhere steal her agents and her spies,
Gliding through temples, baths, and theatres;
Possess all angles, corners, noonday halts,
And darknesses; they flit with casual poison
Softly; the city secretly is filled
With murmurs, lifted eyebrows, and with sighs.
The mischief's in the very blood of Rome
Unless the sore that feeds it is cut out.
Nero.
Why, I myself have visited the fleet
With Anicetus: sullen droop the sails
Or flap in mutiny against the mast.
Burdened with barnacles the untarred keels
Drowse on the tide with parching decks unswabbed,
And anchors rusting on inglorious ooze.
All indolent the vast armada tilts,
A leafless resurrection of dead trees.
The sailors in a dream do go about
Or at the fo'c's'le ominously meet.
Should any foe upon the sea-line loom
They'll light with ease upon an idle prey.
And yet I felt the grandeur of stagnation
And the magnificence of idleness.
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She hath seduced the breast-plates and the sails.
Nero.
[Distracted.]
Here I pronounce her exile.
Tigellinus.
Whither then?
Anicetus.
To Britain send her. There for Claudius
I fought; a melancholy isle, alone,
Sundered from all the world; and banned by God
With separating, cold, religious wave,
And haunted with the ghost of a dead sun
Rising as from a grave, or all in blood
Returning wounded heavily through mist.
Her rotting peoples amid forests cower,
Or mad for colour paint their bodies blue.
There in eternal drippings of the leaf
Or that dead summer of the living fly,
And by the eternal sadness of the surf,
Ambition cannot live, hope cannot breathe.
Even the fieriest spirit there will rust
Or gutter like a candle in the rain.
To Britain send her.
Tigellinus.
Never isle remote
On the sad water, never desert sand
In trembling flame, nor rock-built prison-house
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While she hath life, it is no matter where,
While she hath breath, no other dares to breathe,
Not Caesar, even!
Nero.
This breath to her I owe.
Tigellinus.
[Cautiously and slowly watching Nero, as do the others.]
Caesar, there is a region of exile
Whence none hath yet returned—your pardon, sir—
Nero.
[Starts and turns away.]
No, no, no! I remember very clear
How gently she would wake me long ago.
Burrus.
Then be thy mother's son still and surrender
This toy of Rome to her: she bought it you:
Now, wearied, give it back!
Nero.
Ah, patience, sir!
I cannot in one moment gird myself
To murder all these kisses, and she hath
A vastness in this narrow world so rare,
A sweep majestical about the earth—
True, that she hath no ear for verse—
Tigellinus.
For thine.
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Yet passion, fury, and ambition, these
Are primal things in our elaborate age.
Ill can we spare them.
Burrus.
Now, 'tis you or she.
Nero.
A little time in which to fix my mind.
I go to Baiae; for I am not housed
Here as I should be: all the palace seems
To me a hovel; scarcely can I breathe.
I should be roofed with gold, and walled with gold,
Should tread on gold; and if I cast mine eyes
Over the city, they should view a scene
Of spacious avenues and breathing trees,
And buildings plunged in odorous foliage.
This is a petty city: I have thought
It might be well to raze it to the ground
And build another and an ampler Rome,
More worthy site for this imperial soul.
I'll go to Baiae, there to dream this dream.
Tigellinus.
Might I propose you go not all alone?
At times the answering flash from other eyes
Can aid the mightiest; and a woman's thought—
Nero.
Yes—Yes—Poppaea!
Burrus.
Otho will be jealous.
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And is already dangerous; he has joined
The Agrippina faction.
Nero.
He must be
Promoted then to—Lusitania.
Tigellinus.
Thule were safer—still.
Nero.
Here I appoint him
Sole governor of Lusitania.
To Baiae now—Poppaea—a new Rome!
[Exit Nero.
Tigellinus.
He hesitates—but I will see Poppaea:
She can find means we cannot, and we thus
Can use her beauty for our policy.
[Exeunt Tigellinus, Burrus, Seneca, and Anicetus.
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SCENE II
Scene.—The tiring chamber of Poppaea—signs of luxury, implements of a Roman lady's toilet of the period. Poppaea reclining, with a single maidPoppaea.
Myrrha, more gold upon these builded curls.
How often, child?
Myrrha.
Mistress, forgive me.
[A slave has entered.
Poppaea.
Well?
Slave.
Mistress, the Emperor's minister, Tigellinus.
[Poppaea signs Myrrha to go.
Enter Tigellinus
Tigellinus.
Lady, I am loth to interrupt this toil,
But come on a secret errand.
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Well, what is it?
Tigellinus.
Long have I watched you, and to me it seemed
You had some mighty wish within your soul
As yet unspoken? Ah, I know it well.
You would climb high, even to the very height?
Poppaea.
[Rising.]
I would.
Tigellinus.
You would be—mistress of the world?
Poppaea.
Ah!
Tigellinus.
And shall be: we aim at the same goal.
You from ambition, I from policy.
Poppaea.
Speak clearer.
Tigellinus.
'Tis our wish to free young Nero
From Agrippina's dangerous dominance—
To free him of her quite. Now she too stands
In your own path. Your loveliness may work
Upon him: and we with policy the while—
Will you make cause with us?
Poppaea.
I understand.
You need this beauty as an added bait
To lure when policy can drive him not.
What do I gain at last?
Tigellinus.
The throne itself.
Octavia is a shadow: cannot stand
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Never will suffer you while she has breath.
Poppaea.
I will not tempt him to a mother's murder.
Tigellinus.
Nor do we ask it: only that you draw
His wandering fancy from her with a sweet
Interposition of this loveliness,
Free him of her, then bind him to yourself.
Poppaea.
I will attempt it. I will fly at it.
I go to him to Baiae this same day.
Tigellinus.
Remember all the earth is in thy reach.
[Exit Tigellinus.
Poppaea claps her hands—enter various maids
Poppaea.
Lorilla, see, this henna is o'erdone.
Lorilla.
O pardon, mistress.
Poppaea.
And you, Lalage,
My lips more brilliant.
Lalage.
Yet—
Poppaea.
Remember, child,
That I walk ever veiled: what in the sun
Glares, being veiled a finer richness takes
And more provokes: how many struggling flies
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Which else were freed!
[Gazing at her face in mirror.
Ah! this left eyebrow—who?
Who painted this?
Maid.
[Trembling.]
I, madam.
Poppaea.
You are young:
Else I would have you stripped and lashed till blood
Flew from you.
Maid.
Mercy!
Poppaea.
Call old Lydia.
Lydia, this eyebrow—the old touch.
Lydia.
My hands
Tremble, but I'll essay.
Poppaea.
[Gazing in mirror.]
So—that is well.
Children, when there shall come, and come there must,
The smallest marring wrinkle on this face,
And come there must—our bodies fall like flowers,
This face shall feel the ruin of the rose—
When time, howe'er light, shall touch this cheek,
Then quick farewell! Listen, I will not live
Less lovely, nor this cruel beauty lose,
And I perforce grow kind: I'll not survive
The deep delicious poison of a smile
Nor mortal music of the sighing bosom
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It shall not dawdle downward to the grave;
I'll pass upon the instant of perfection.
No woman shall behold Poppaea fade:
And now to Baiae!
Myrrha.
Thence the Emperor
Hath sent three messengers already.
Poppaea.
Ah!
Blue Baiae, warm beside a sparkling sea
Where I will win young Nero—and the world!
Enter Otho hastily
Otho.
The Emperor hath sent three messengers
Demanding you for Baiae: yet am I
Not asked: what means this lonely summons, wife?
Poppaea.
Can you not trust me?
Otho.
When I gaze on you,
‘Yes’—when your voice is murmuring at my ear,
‘Yes’—but at times when I am pressed by crowds
Or yearn alone beside the breaking wave—
Poppaea.
Will you not trust me? Why then do I go?
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To praise the Emperor's verses—but for you;
To applaud his feeblest gesture—but for you;
To coax from him a kingdom—but for you!
Yet are you angered.
Otho.
'Tis a perilous game.
Nero may ask more of your loveliness.
Poppaea.
A woman may surrender inch by inch
Even to the edge of shame: then sudden rise
Unmelting ice.
Otho.
Poppaea, I like not.
Poppaea.
All is for you.
Enter an Officer with Attendants
Officer.
Sir, from the Emperor.
Thus Caesar saith: ‘Hereby do we decree
Otho, our bosom's friend, sole governor
Of Lusitania: with imperial leave
Whom to appoint, dismiss: all revenues
In his control: thither let him proceed
To-morrow ere sunset.‘
Otho.
[Looking at Poppaea, then turning to Officer.]
I shall obey.
[Exit Officer and Others.
Dismiss the slaves.
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Otho, I swear—
Otho.
Dismiss them.
Poppaea.
Myrrha, stay by me! On my knees I swear—
Otho.
Stand up! You knew this?
Poppaea.
Dear, I never could—
Otho.
[Taking her by the arm.]
You go to Baie into Caesar's arms.
I am—promoted—to the ends of the earth,
Anywhere, anywhere, so I be not there
To interrupt.
[He throws her from him—snatches his dagger.
Poppaea.
Kill me then if you will.
Here—here! I will not flinch, so I die true.
You'll not suspect my corpse.
Otho.
It has been planned,
Thought out, and timed—for in his deepest plot
Our Nero has an eye for drama still.
He hath imagined that which now we act.
Poppaea.
Kill me—I love you! Ere you strike, one kiss.
Otho.
Ah!
[Recoiling.]
Poppaea.
But one kiss—a kiss of olden days,
When we two were most happy: Caesar was not,
And you had laughed at him! A harp-player,
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Who have had these arms about me, and these lips
Burn up my own, could languish for a mime?
I am a child—I have done wrong—forgive it—
I sighed for thy advancement—speak to me!
Now slap my hands or send me to my bed,
I am a baby in these deep affairs.
Otho.
Go not to Baiae then: depart with me
To Lusitania; words I'll count no more,
But deeds—to Lusitania, come with me.
Poppaea.
Is it wise to disobey—is it wise, I ask?
Set me aside, be mindful of yourself.
Otho.
So you'll not come?
Poppaea.
For you alone I linger.
I'll tarry but a little while behind you,
And when I come, I'll greet you full of riches.
Otho.
I dread to leave you in your love-liness.
Poppaea.
Then I'll not go with you.
Otho.
You will not—Why?
Poppaea.
Because you will not trust me. Show to me
That you can trust me, Otho; and what joy,
What satisfaction can you have to drag
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Because you do not dare leave her behind
For fear—I'll not be such a wife.
Otho.
Poppaea,
No more I'll ask you to depart with me,
I'll go alone: but this remember still—
Gay have I been, a spendthrift and an idler,
A brilliant fly that buzzed about the bloom.
But I had that in me deep down, and still,
Of which you, you alone, posses the key,
A sullen nobleness to you disclosed
E'en then with shame: and by no other guessed.
This you well know: betray not that at least;
For even the lightest woman here is scared,
And dreads to dabble deeper in the soul.
We have no children.
Poppaea.
[Coming to him and putting up her face.]
Am I not child enough
Who should be woman? You shall kiss these lips
Once ere you go—so close they are to you.
Otho.
The gods laugh out at me—but I must kiss you.
Poppaea.
Can I not help your preparation?
Otho.
No.
I shall not go with pomp; but as a soldier.
Poppaea.
I think you are still angry?
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No! Farewell,
I have brief time.
Poppaea.
Ah! take me with you, then.
Otho.
What! You will come?
Poppaea.
I wish—I wish 'twere wise.
My love shall bear your litter all the way.
[Exit Otho hastily.
Re-enter Maid
Maid.
Has he gone, lady? Had I such a man
I could not let him part thus, not for Caesar.
Poppaea.
For Caesar! No: but Caesar means the world!
For Baiae! The new gold-dust!
Maid.
Here, I have it.
Poppaea.
Bear it yourself—entrust it to no other.
[Exeunt.
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SCENE III
Nero'r Private Chamber in the villa at Baiae, looking directly upon the bay. Left, doors leading into the apartments. The water laps close up to the marble quay or terrace on which the action takes place. Right are seen prows of galleys at their moorings. Beyond is the curving shore of the bay, crowded with villas and temples. The scene is of extreme southern richness and serenity. Time noon[Nero is pacing restlessly to and fro. Enter a servant.
Nero.
The lady Poppaea! Is she yet arrived?
Servant.
Sir, an hour since.
Nero.
[Impatiently.]
Then why is she not here?
[Exit Servant.
An hour since: yet she lingers while I ache
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To fly to her? No, 'twere unworthy of me—
And yet, and yet—Ah! I must go to her.
Enter slaves bearing Poppaea on litter
Poppaea.
[Standing aloof and veiled.]
Caesar, by thee thrice summoned, I am here.
What is your will?
Nero.
To have you at my side.
Poppaea.
Caesar, I am thy subject, and obeyed
Unwillingly.
Nero.
Unwillingly?
Poppaea.
I come
In loyalty: what service can I render?
If none, then suffer me now to depart.
I tremble to be seen with thee alone;
No whisper yet has touched me.
Nero.
So you come,
But out of loyalty.
Poppaea.
As fits thy subject.
Nero.
No, I am thine!
Poppaea.
Caesar, I will not hear,
I must not if I would—that you know well.
Nero.
You come in cold obedience?
Poppaea.
I have said so.
Yet—
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[Eagerly.]
Well—well—
Poppaea.
Nero—nay, Caesar—my lord.
Nero.
Nero, I'd have you say.
Poppaea.
That slipped from me—
Is't treason? I know nothing of the laws.
Nero.
You come because thrice summoned?
Poppaea.
In my mind
There lurked another reason for my coming.
Nero.
What then?
Poppaea.
A thought that like a captive bird
I have kept warm about my heart so long
I am loth to let it fly forth to the cold.
Nero.
[Approaching her.]
Tell me this thought.
Poppaea.
Then, Caesar, I have long
Brooded upon the music of thy verse.
It doth beset me—and, O pardon me,
If, little fool that I am, I longed to speak
But once alone with him who made it. Now,
What have I said? I will return forthwith.
Nero.
O not thy beauty moves me but thy mind!
Poppaea.
I think I have some little ear for verse.
There is one line—
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Yes—yes—
Poppaea.
Of burning Troy—
‘O city amorous red, thou flagrant rose’—
Nero.
A regal verse! But the arm extended thus
Toward doomed Ilium. Say on.
Poppaea.
My eyes
Are filled with tears.
Nero.
Remove thy veil and weep.
Poppaea.
[Starting back.]
For no man—save my husband—O my lord!
He is despatched to Lusitania.
Nero.
Know you not why?
Poppaea.
I know not—cannot guess.
Nero.
That he might stand no more between us two.
Poppaea.
O sir, he is my husband, and my way
Is with him wheresoe'er he go. My duty—
Nero.
But your inclining?
Poppaea.
That I will not say.
But Lusitania is henceforth my home.
Nero, I will speak truth: I'll not deny
There is some strange communion of the soul
'Twixt you and me: but I'll not yield to this,
No, nor shall you compel me, Caesar: I
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There are more sacred things in my regard
Than mutual pleasure from melodious verse.
Nero.
Nothing, when soul meets soul without alloy.
Poppaea.
I fear you do forget I am a woman.
Dear to us before all are household cares.
Nero.
O to the average, not to thee.
Poppaea.
Farewell!
Nero.
You shall not go thus.
Poppaea.
Caesar, chain me here,
But in neglected duty I shall pine.
Nero.
[Angrily striding to and fro.]
Ah!
Poppaea.
And imagine that he did not live—
That I were free to indulge this panting soul—
Still there are bars between us none can break.
Nero.
You mean my wife Octavia?
Poppaea.
Well—and yet
Not she, perhaps.
Nero.
Who then? What other bars?
Poppaea.
Your mother Agrippina.
Nero.
Still my mother!
Poppaea.
She would not bear it: would command her son
To leave me: a younger woman has no hope
Against her.
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I am not her lackey.
Poppaea.
No?
Ah, but her child, and born but to obey.
And yet though wiser, mightier, than myself,
You shall not find in her a listener
So still, so answerable to your mood.
And, I will say it, you'll not find in her
One who has dived so deep into your soul,
Who sees—I cannot flatter—sees that greatness
Which she too long keeps under: were I you
I would be Caesar, spite of twenty mothers,
And seem the mighty poet that I am.
I'll go.
Nero.
You madden me—
Poppaea.
Farewell again.
Nero.
Poppaea, go not, go not. All the east
Burns in me, and the desert fires my blood.
I parch, I pine for you. My body is sand
That thirsts. I die, I perish of this thirst,
To slake it at your lips! You madden me.
[He seizes her cloak and she stands revealed.
Goddess! What shall I give thee great enough?
I'll give thee Rome—I'll give thee this great world,
And all the builded empire as a toy.
The Mediterranean shall thy mirror be,
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The orb of the earth—throw it on thy lap
But for a kiss—one kiss!
Poppaea.
But Agrippina?
Nero.
Agrippina?
Poppaea.
No—I'll not think of it!
I'll have no violence for my sake committed.
If by some chance unlooked for she should die,
If in some far, far time she should succumb
To creeping age—then—
Nero.
Then?
Enter Messenger hurriedly
Messenger.
Sir, urgent business—
The State demands you.
Nero.
[Furiously.]
Pah!—the State!
Poppaea.
O Nero!
Remember first the State—me afterward!
Nero.
Empress!
[He leads her out.
[He returns and stands as in a dream while the Councillors enter.
Burrus.
How long? How long, sir? Agrippina
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Makes mutinous the rabble and the scum.
[Nero makes weary gesture.
Seneca.
And, sir, she has not scrupled to enroll
The ragged, shrieking Christians, who wash not,
The refuse of the empire, all that flows
To this main sewer of Rome she counts upon.
Tigellinus.
[Stealing forward.]
And, sir, if these things move you not—a letter.
Nero.
[Reading.]
‘I, Agrippina, daughter
Of Germanicus, of Claudius widow, of Nero
mother, hereby do declare that though I have
sat tame under private injuries, I will not forgo
my public privileges, nor consent to be banished
from high festival or ceremony. I purpose
then to be present at Baiae at Minerva's feast,
together with the Emperor, and will hold no
second place. This is my ancient right and
to that right I cleave.
The Augusta.’
Seneca.
This is her ultimate audacity.
Tigellinus.
And this our utmost opportunity.
Nero.
Sirs, seeing that the State demands this life,
Seeing that I must choose 'twixt her and Rome,
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The State like Nature must be pitiless,
And I must ruthless be as Nature's Lord.
But I'll be no Orestes, I'll not lift
This hand against her: see you then to that!
It is enough to have conceived this deed.
The how, the when, the where, I leave to you.
Tigellinus.
She is delivered now into our hands,
And runs into the toils we had not set.
In Baiae no Praetorians are camped,
No populace inflamèd in her cause;
A solitary woman doth she come.
Caesar, receive her graciously and well.
Smile all distrust away and speak her soft,
While we devise for her a noiseless doom.
Anicetus.
Caesar, a sudden thought hath come to me.
A pleasure pinnace lies in Baiae Bay
Built for thyself: on this let her return
In the deep night after Minerva's feast,
Or supper given in sign of amity.
I will contrive a roof weighted with lead
Over the couch whereon she will recline.
Once in deep water at a signal given
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The ship shall sink and plunge her in the waves.
In that uncertain water what may chance?
What may not? To the elements this deed
Will be imputed, to a casual gust
Or striking squall upon the moody deep.
Nero.
Wonderful! This gives beauty to an act
Which else were ugly and of me unworthy.
So mighty is she that her proper doom
Could come but by some elemental aid.
Her splendid trouble asketh but the sea
For sepulchre: her spirit limitless
A multitudinous and roaring grave.
Here's nothing sordid, nothing vulgar. I
Consign her to the uproar whence she came.
Be the crime vast enough it seems not crime.
I, as befits me, call on great allies.
I make a compact with the elements.
And here my agents are the very winds,
The waves my servants, and the night my friend.
Burrus.
Suppose the night be clear, with a bright moon,
A calm sea.
Nero.
On the moon I can rely.
Last night I wrote to her a glimmering verse;
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The moon will succour me. Depart from me—
Trouble me not with human faces now.
[Exeunt Councillors.
[Meanwhile Poppaea appears behind in a gorgeous dress with white arms extended against the curtains.
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SCENE IV
Scene.—The same—glittering starlightEnter various servants bearing wine-jars and dishes from the inner supper-room, in procession. Then Burrus, Seneca, Anicetus, and Tigellinus
Burrus.
'Tis not man's work to witness this. I have fought
Neck-deep in blood and spared not when the fit
Was on me, but I cannot gaze on this.
Have you a heart, old man?
Tigellinus.
No, not in hours
Like these: the brain is all. I fear, I fear him
The last farewell—he will not bear it out!
Seneca.
How to excuse my soul, yet I am here.
Was this mere acting, or a true emotion?
Anicetus.
A little of both, but most, I fear it, true.
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Is all prepared and timed? No hazard left?
Anicetus.
Yonder the barge with lights and fluttering flags.
The canopy whereunder Agrippina
Will sit is heavily weighted: at a sign
A bolt withdrawn will launch it on her head.
Enter Nero
Nero.
I cannot do it: if she goes, she goes.
I cannot say farewell, and kiss her lips,
Ere I commit her body to the deep.
Tigellinus.
All hangs upon the fervour of farewell,
The kiss, the soft word, and the hand detained,
All hangs on it; go back.
Nero.
'Tis difficult.
[Nero turns. Enter Agrippina.
Come out into the cool a moment, mother.
Agrippina.
This seemeth like to old days come again,
Evenings of Antium with a rising moon.
[Stroking his hair.
My boy, my boy, again! Look in my eyes.
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After a night of tossing, half-awake,
Blinking against the dawn, and pull my head
Down to you, till I lost you in my hair.
Do you remember many a night so thick
With stars as this—you would not go to bed,
But still would paddle in the warm ocean
Spraying it with small hands into the skies.
Nero.
Yes, I remember.
Agrippina.
Or when you would sail
In a slight skiff under a moon like this,
Though chidden oft and oft.
Nero.
Ah! I recall it.
Agrippina.
A wilful child—the sea—ever the sea—
Your mother could not hold you from the sea.
Will you be sore if I confess a thought?
Nero.
Ah! no, mother!
Agrippina.
So foolish it seems now.
Awhile I doubted whether I should come.
Nero.
Why, then?
Agrippina.
Now, do not laugh at me—I say
You will not laugh at me?
Nero.
No!
Agrippina.
Why—I thought
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Truly I did!
Nero.
I kill you!
Agrippina.
‘O,’ I said,
‘I have wearied him: he is weary of his mother.’
Nero.
Oh!
Agrippina.
In my ears there buzzed that prophecy—
‘Nero shall reign but he shall kill his mother.’
[Nero starts.
Agrippina.
Now—now—I had not told you had I not
Been above measure happy. Now no more
Wild words, no more mad words between us two,
Who all the while are aching to be friends.
O how your hands come waxen once again
Within my own: again behind your voice
The hesitating tardy bird-like word
And the sweet slur of ‘r's.’ O but to-night
Even grandeur palls, the splendid goal: to-night
I am a woman and am with my child.
[A pause and she strains him to her.
Beautiful night that gently bringest back
Mother to son, and callest all thy stars
To watch it. Quiet sea that bringest peace
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The air is as with silent pleasure? Child,
Is not the night then more than common calm?
Nero.
A sparkling starlight and a windless deep.
Agrippina.
Never until to-night did I so feel
The lure of the sea that lures me to lie down
At last after such heat. Ah, but the stars
Are falling and I feel the unseen dawn.
Son, I must go at once. Where is my maid
To wrap me? Sweet and warm now is the night
And I am glad I had prepared to go
By water, not by land.
Enter Servant, hurriedly
Servant.
O Caesar!
Nero.
Well?
Servant.
Thy mother's galley by a random barge
Was struck, and now is sinking fast.
Agrippina.
Alas!
Now must I go by land.
93
Yes, go by land.
[Tigellinus signals to Anicetus.
Anicetus.
Yonder there lies a barge with fluttering flags,
A gilded pinnace, a light pleasure-boat
Built for you with much art and well designed.
Will you return in her? Easily she
Can swing round to the landing-stage.
Agrippina.
Yes—yes—
I'll go in her—Why not?
Nero.
It was foretold—
Enter Acceronia, who elaborately wraps Agrippina
Agrippina.
Nero, my maid a moment to enwrap me.
[As the wrapping is finished.
I have slept ill of late: but I shall have
A soft and steady breeze across the bay.
I shall sleep sound. Now, Nero, now good-bye.
For ever we are friends?
Nero.
Good-bye: yet stay!
[During this dialogue he is continually detaining her.
Have I been kind, this last hour? Say.
Agrippina.
Most kind.
94
You have no need to go this moment—one
More moment of thee, mother.
Agrippina.
You shall see me
To-morrow. Will you cross the bay to me,
Or shall I come to you?
Nero.
I'll come to you
To-morrow! Ah! to-morrow! But to-night.
Now let me have you once more in my arms.
[Detaining her.
Is old Cynisca with you still?
Agrippina.
[Going.]
She is.
Nero.
Stay, stay, give her this ring: she nursed me.
Agrippina.
Yes.
I see you have my amulet.
Nero.
O yes.
Agrippina.
So bright the night you'll see me all the way
Across the shining water.
Nero.
[Clinging to her.]
O farewell!
Agrippina.
[Descends to water.]
Goodnight, child! I shall see you then tomorrow.
Already it hath dawned.
95
Mother, good-night.
[Exit Agrippina.
Tigellinus.
[To crew in barge.]
Strike up the music there, a joyous strain!
And sing, you boatmen; the Augusta comes.
[Sounds of joyful music are heard, and singing, as the pinnace puts off with measured beat of oars.
Nero.
It hath put off: she hath gone: she sitteth happy.
See, the dead woman waves her hand to me.
Now the bark turns the headland.
Anicetus.
But will soon
Steal into sight, well out upon the bay.
Tigellinus.
Caesar, let none deny thou art an actor
Nero.
[Passionately.]
Was I all actor then? That which I feigned
I felt, and when it was my cue to kiss her,
The whole of childhood rushed into the kiss.
When it was in my part to cling about her,
I clung about her mad with memories.
The water in my eyes rose from my soul,
And flooding from the heart ran down my cheek.
Did my voice tremble? Then it trembled true
With human agony behind the art.
96
Tigellinus.
Listen!
Anicetus.
She is well out,
Glassed in the bay with all her lights and flags.
Soon will a crash and cry come in our ears.
Nero.
[Going out.]
How calm the night when I would have it wild!
Aloof and bright which should have rushed to me
Hither with aid of thunder, screen of lightning!
I looked for reinforcement from the sky.
Arise, you veiling clouds; awake, you winds,
And stifle with your roaring human cries.
Not a breath upon my cheek! I gasp for air.
[To Others.]
Do you suppose the very elements
Are conscious of the workings of this mind?
So careful not to seem to share my guilt?
Yet dark is the record of wind and wave;
This ocean that creeps fawning to our feet
Comes purring o'er a million wrecks and bones.
If the cold moon hath sinned not, she hath been privy.
She aids me not, but watches quietly.
A placid sea, still air, and bright starlight.
Anicetus.
But Caesar, see, a gradual cloud hath spread
97
She is vanished.
Nero.
She is veiled from sight.
Tigellinus.
My eyes
Can find her not; she is enwrapped in mist.
Seneca.
A dimness and no more.
Burrus.
And silence.
Nero.
Hush!
How wonderful this waiting and this pause.
Could one convey this in the theatre?
This deep suspense, this breathlessness? Perhaps.
The air weighs on the brain—what sound was that?
Tigellinus.
Nothing, sir.
Nero.
In this thrill a leaf would thunder.
[A pause.
I never noted so exactly how
The shadow of that cypress falls aslant
Upon the dark bank yonder.
Burrus.
Would it were over!
Nero.
Feel you no shuddering pleasure in this pause?
But me this fraught expectancy allures;
The tingling stillness, for each moment now
The crash, a cry, may come, but it comes not.
98
Anicetus, have you bungled?
[A cry is heard far off, and a crash, then silence.
Nero.
It is done.
I cannot look: peer seaward, one of you—
What do you see?
Seneca.
Darkness, and veilèd stars.
Nero.
Is there no shimmer of a floating robe?
Pierce through the darkness!
Burrus.
Nothing visible.
Nero.
I seem to see her lying amid shells,
And strange sea-things come round her wondering,
Inspecting her with cold and rheumy eyes.
The water sways her helpless up and down.
Burrus.
Caesar, you have no further need of me?
Nero.
[Dreamily.]
No, sir.
Burrus.
Good-night, and pleasant be thy dreams.
Seneca.
Or me?
Nero.
No, no!
Seneca.
At least bear witness, sir,
I had no hand in this: but was compelled,
A loth spectator, to behold thy deed!
Anicetus.
Caesar, you'll not forget the service done?
99
Never shall I forget thee, Anicetus.
Leave me alone.
[Exeunt all but Tigellinus, who creeps back again.
Tigellinus.
Sole master of the world!
Caesar at last: the Emperor of the earth,
Now thou art free—to write immortal verse,
To give thy genius wing, to strike the stars.
And thou hast made this tragic sacrifice,
Slaying what is most dear, most close to thee,
To give thy being vent and utterance.
Apollo shall reward thee for this deed.
Nero.
Go to thy room, old man, and—wilt thou sleep?
Tigellinus.
Already I am drowsing; early then
To-morrow I will come to you.
Nero.
Good-night.
Tigellinus.
Caesar, good-night.
[Exit Tigellinus.
[Thunder heard.
Nero.
Ah! thunder! thou art come
At last, too late! What catches at my heart?
I—I—her boy, her baby that was, even I
Have killed her: where I sucked there have I struck.
100
[He drinks.
The anguish of it hath taken hold of me,
And I am gripped by Nature. O, it comes
Upon me, this too natural remorse.
I faint! I flinch from the raw agony!
I cannot face this common human throe!
Ah! Ah! the crude stab of reality!
I am a son, and I have killed my mother!
Why! I am now no more than him who tills
Or reaps: and I am seized by primal pangs.
Mother!
[He drinks.
The thunder crieth motherless.
Ah! how this sword of lightning thrusts at me!
O, all the artist in my soul is shattered,
And I am hurled into humanity,
Back to the sweat and heart-break of mankind.
I am broken upon the jagged spurs of the earth.
I can no more endure it. Mother!
[He drinks again, walking distractedly to and fro, not looking seaward. But as he at last turns, slowly out from the sea appears the figure of Agrippina with dripping hair, who comes slowly towards him in silence.
101
Agrippina.
Child!
[She stoops, removes the amulet from his arm, flings it into the sea, and passes out in silence.
102
SCENE V
Scene.—The same. Dawn breaking; Nero discovered lying in a swoonNero.
[Slowly.]
Dawn! In the night o'erpast a lightning flash!
Ah! I remember—here my mother's ghost
Stood—on this very ground—I feel the air
Still cold from her—and here the lightning burned.
So I awake my mother's murderer.
That was her ghost that stole on me sea-marred,
Silent—the ocean falling from her hair.
Enter Tigellinus
Tigellinus.
Caesar at last! Sole master of the world!
Nero.
O Tigellinus, in the mid of night,
The spirit of my whelmèd mother stole
Hither upon me, dumb out of the deep.
Heaven gave a flash: I saw her face and fell.
103
Her spirit! Better that than she herself.
Dismiss dark fancies now—this day thou art free.
Nero.
No, but enthralled by her for evermore.
She is my air, my ocean, and my sky.
Tigellinus.
The night has wrought this sickly mood on you—
Natural—it will pass.
Nero.
Never, O never!
You flatter, you console, you would assuage,
But you are human, can forget and change.
But yonder rocky coast remembers yet.
That countenance changes not: that conscious bay
Maintains its everlasting memory.
This privy region saw, and it shall see
For ever what was done. The amulet!
Filched from me! Was it then a ghost I saw?
Enter Seaman hurriedly, followed by Burrus
Seaman.
Caesar, my news must plead for this intrusion.
I was aboard the ship whereon the Augusta
Set sail: when the roof fell, thy mother's maid
104
Crushed under many a blow, she dropped and died.
But silently thy mother Agrippina
Slid from the ship into the water and swam
Shoreward. With white and jewelled arms she thrust
Out through the waves and lay upon the foam.
We heard her through the ripple breathing deep,
And when we heard no more, we watched her still—
Her hair behind her blowing into gold
As she did glimmer o'er the gloomy deep;
And all the stars swam with her through the heavens,
The hurrying moon lighted her with a torch,
The sea was loth to lose her, and the shore
Yearned for her; till we lost her in the dark,
Save now and then some splendid leap of the head.
Nero.
You know not if she be alive or dead?
Seaman.
Caesar, rejoice—thy mother lives.
Nero.
She lives?
Seaman.
When I at last touched shore, I spoke with two
105
Had borne her in their boat across the bay
To her own villa.
Nero.
[Falling hysterically on neck of Seaman.]
I am no murderer then!
Tigellinus.
Have you considered, sir, what now may urge
Thy mother, Agrippina, knowing all,
Seeing that by no chance or accident
Or sudden flurry of the ocean floor
The ship collapsed. Safe is she, but how long?
Will she not burst upon us suddenly?
Sir, she must die to-night.
Nero.
I'll not attempt
A second time that life the sea restored;
She is too vast a spirit to surprise.
Even Nature stood aloof—
My mother shall be gloriously caged,
Imprisoned in purple and immured in gold.
In some magnificent captivity
Worthy the captive let her day decline.
[Shouts without: enter Burrus.
Burrus.
Caesar, great news I bring: the Armenian
Lies helpless on Tigranocerta's plain
106
Dissolved. Armenia lies beneath your feet:
Rome yearns to welcome you.
Nero.
To Rome I go
Free-souled and guiltless of a mother's blood,
Resume the accustomed feast, the race, the song,
And I shall be received with public joy
And clamour of congratulating Rome.
[Great cheering without: exit Nero.
[A pause.
Tigellinus.
Burrus, she'll strike at us whate'er the cost:
She'll slay the ministers if not the master.
Burrus.
We are both dead unless some sudden scheme—
Enter Anicetus at back
[Turning.]
Here is another doomed as we ourselves.
Tigellinus.
Ah, Anicetus! Agrippina lives,
And she will launch her vengeance on us three,
But first on you: you first set Nero on—
You first proposed the scheme. You on the sea
Bungled—Now on the land retrieve the error.
To you we look.
107
Anicetus.
My error is repaired
Already. I first heard the Augusta lived,
And instantly despatched a faithful troop
To slay her at her villa o'er the bay.
Tigellinus.
How shall we know if they have found and slain her?
Anicetus.
All this I have arranged and clearly planned.
If they shall find that she hath fled to Rome,
Hark for one trumpet-call across the bay:
If they have found her at the villa, then
Hark for two trumpet-calls across the bay:
If they have found her and have slain her, then
Hark for three trumpet-calls across the bay!
[A burst of music without, and sounds of advancing procession.
[Enter soldiers and satellites, with attendants bearing a litter. Lastly Nero.
Tigellinus.
Now as a conqueror in triumphant vein
Ride through the thundering ways of risen Rome,
Anticipating the Armenian car.
108
[Ascending litter.]
Set out for Rome! And you, accusing coasts,
Accuse no more. Guiltless I say farewell,
And with a light heart journey toward Rome
Joyous I go, for Agrippina lives.
[A great triumphal shout swells up again, and to the sound of military music, Nero and the procession pass off. Meanwhile Tigellinus is left in a listening attitude. Poppaea stands breathless at back. There is a pause. Then a trumpet-call is heard far off; a second; and a third. Poppaea rushes to Tigellinus and clasps his hand.
| Nero | |