University of Virginia Library

Scæ IV.

Nero, sleeping in a Couch; Caligula's Ghost appears.
Ghost.
From the Infernal cave, the wide, the low
Abyss, the direful pit of endless woe,
On which each God that looks scarce keeps his State,
But, giddy grown, turns and takes hold of Fate,
Caligula, in vapors wrapt, does come,
Nero, thy friend, and the sworn foe of ROME.
Not Hell's more deradful, than these hated walls;
The Stygian waves, and Terrhene water's falls,
Alike with fear confound my troubled Soul,
And sprinkle equal horrors as they rowl.
By Traytors hands I fell: O that I could,
For every drop they shed, Spill Seas of blood.
Oh Heav'n, I'de do what cannot be exprest!
VVith raging Plagues I'de fill each Roman brest:
Burn Palaces: like Thunder, I would rave,
Tear the tall woods, and rend each Sacred Grove.
But oh! by pow'rful Fate I am confin'd
And must not reak the madness of my mind.

Nero,
Act thou, what can't be done by me,
Thy Genius, I, will aid thy cruelty:
With my pale hand I stroak thy troubled sense;
All poyson Hell contains I do dispense;
The scum of Lethe, with Alecto's gall,
Mægera's sweat, shall on thy vitals fall;
Errinnis shall about thy heart-strings twine;
Yet all's too little for our great design.
Lo, I am warn'd; see where fierce Envy stands,
And summons me, by Pluto's dread commands.
Go on, be mad; no more I must be gone,
And vanish, like the light when day is done.
Nero, Solus.
VVhere have I been? thou Dæmon of the night
Return; I'm rack'd with this appalling sight,
The forked tongues of Furyes can't express
The rage that burns within me: Sulphur's less;
Not Hell it self so full of dread appears;
Not Night, nor darker Death, such horror wears;
Not the destructive force of wind, and fire,
VVhen some great City's ruin they conspire;
Not the davouring Sea, when Neptune makes.
The Sea-Gods drunk, and draughts of ruin takes
VVrong'd womens hate, Sword; Famine, Plagues combine;
Your madness trebled cannot equal mine:
All you faint emblems of my fury are;
No tender Sex, nor age my wrath shall spare.
Enter Drusillus bloody.
What news? thy looks declare it to be good,
A hasty joy appears, though drest in blood.

Drus.
The rabble, Sir, with wine and rage inspir'd
With Trayt'rous hands your Palace would have fir'd:
Your Guards they did assault; but we withstood
Their heat, and soon allay'd it with their blood:
Few strokes were giv'n ere the base cowards fled,
Some pris'ners are, some scap'd, and some are dead.

Nero.
Ha! do they bid me battle? they shall die:
At their own weapon I the slaves defy.
Nothing but flames can quench my kindled Ire:
Blood's not enough; Fire I'le revenge with fire.
Fierce as young Phaeton I will return:
Great ROME, the World's Metropolis, shall burn.
On Tyber's flood new beams I will display,
And turn black Night into a golden Day.
The molten GODS shan't save their Capital,
Temples shall tumble down, guilt roofs shall fall:
Bright Ruin, with a noise shall swallow all.

Exeunt.