 | Nero's Mother |  |
[The scene is a chamber in the villa of Agrippina on the shore of the Lucrine lake. A large window on the right at back commands a view of the shore and near it is a table with a lamp burning. Lower down stage, on the right is a door communicating by steps with the shore. On the left is another door heavily curtained, leading to the chamber of Agrippina.
The time is night and as the curtain rises loud
shouts and cries can be heard from without congratulating
Agrippina on her escape from shipwreck
the night before. There can be seen the
reflected light of many torches hither and
thither waved along the beach in token of the
popular joy. Myrrha is discovered gazing from
the window on the assembled crowd laughing
gleefully, and clapping her hands.
97
As the curtain rises Acerronia comes from the door on the left from the presence of Agrippina.]
Myrrha.
[Turning excitedly to Acerronia who enters.]
Will she not come, the Emperor's mother? Hark!
[A loud shout arises and cries of “Agrippina” are heard from below.]
Again, and yet again they cry her name,
And some are dancing, many waving torches,
And all aloud for Agrippina call!
Look forth!
Acerronia goes and leans from the window, and a still louder shout is sent up.]
98
Till Agrippina shows herself to them
Safe from the wrecked ship.
Acerronia.
To and fro within
She walks and murmurs to herself; then halts
All suddenly; but moving still her lips
In silence. There's a trouble at the soul,
Which makes her deaf to all this shouted joy.
Myrrha.
Why! But last night and she escaped shipwreck.
She should be rendering thanks upon her knees.
Acerronia.
I tell you there's some fierce tumult within;
She puts some dreadful question to herself.
99
Sabinus.
We would congratulate the Emperor's mother.
May we not speak with her? Will she not see us?
Acerronia.
[Going to the curtained door.]
I'll tell her that you come to speak with her.
[Exit.]
Sabinus.
[To Myrrha.]
A moment to declare the public joy
And thanks of all this coast that she is safe,
Delivered from the peril of the deep.
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Sabinus.
We could not choose, O Lady Agrippina,
But seek you out to show you our delight.
[A loud shout is again heard.]
Hark to this multitude that throng the shore,
All hoarse with salutations who await
The sight of you from yonder window thrown.
And not alone have we a cause for thanks
In that a sudden ship-wreck was escaped,
But also that to Nero, to your son,
You now are reconciled, so through the world
Lasting tranquillity is granted us.
Agrippina.
I thank you all for true words from the heart,
And for your simple joy that I am safe,
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How good is human speech that we can trust,
And even though we be royal can believe!
I'll show myself a moment.
[She goes to the window, Myrrha holding up a golden lamp which lights up Agrippina's face and the acclamations are redoubled. As she turns from the window, Sabinus and his followers make an obeisance and retire.]
Agrippina.
[Slowly.]
Seen from the window, how did yester-night
Appear, disturbed or calm?
Myrrha.
O calm my Lady.
The bay was like a floor that we could dance on
And all the coast as clear as in daylight.
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Then does it not seem strange, nay wonderful
That any ship should sink in such a sea,
A brilliant heaven and a breathless deep?
Acerronia.
What is so treacherous as a glassy sea,
What is so full of moods and sudden frets?
Agrippina.
[Eagerly.]
Ah, that is true!
Acerronia.
Some under-current might—
Agrippina.
Yes, yes! who knows? Who can foretell or guard?
103
O to you two I must unfold my soul!
'Twas the uncertain sea; no human guile.
If it were planned! The Gods at least would lend
No colour to it.
Myrrha.
Planned!
Agrippina.
Planned by my son.
Acerronia.
Why! It is said he lay upon your breast
Showering his kisses on you.
Agrippina.
Yes, he laid
His head down on my bosom as of old.
He seemed to me but as a child again,
I stroked his hair, while he would kiss my hand,
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You cannot guess how eagerly I long
To think that which I wish; and to believe
That which I fear to trust; but I have been
So schooled my brain is mistress of my heart.
O but his touch had ancient tenderness!
His eyes filled with the tears of long ago.
Or were those fingers but the sheathed claws
And talons of the tiger-cat; those tears
A treacherous rheum called up at will? No, no!
Myrrha.
Mistress!
Agrippina.
[Sinking in a chair.]
O if I might have lived secure!
Only a woman busied with her flowers,
And turning unto music at twilight;
That passes from a garden to a grave;
While one saith to another, “Hast thou heard,
She died last night?” O if I might have dwelt
Safe with the dim untempted Average!
O had I been a wanderer on the road,
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All night a river running at his ear!
Yet could I quench this fire with any flower?
What fall of dew could slake this thirsting soul?
O vain, vain, vain!
[Suddenly rising.]
Girls, may you never bring
A man-child to the sun; and live to fear
His kisses and grow careful of his clasp!
Acerronia.
Imperial Lady, hark not back to that!
Agrippina.
[Pacing to and fro.]
Would I had been born barren in the light!
Would I had lingered fruitless to the ground,
Drooping with all my wishes to the earth,
And so escaped the pangs precursing bliss
To others! Why must I in pain bring forth
That which shall tear me, why am I twice rent?
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That naturally on its mother turns,
And sets its teeth there where it drew its life?
What but a lair for adders have I been,
A chest of poison or a dagger sheath?
What but—
[She pauses suddenly, listening.]
Myrrha.
My Lady, what so suddenly
Arrests you?
Agrippina.
Listen!
Acerronia.
I can hear no sound.
Myrrha.
Nor I.
Acerronia.
What cry hath marbled you so still?
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No cry, but—silence! Listen! Why has ceased
So suddenly the clamour from the shore?
There is no single voice that rises now.
Listen! At last comes clear upon the air
The regular murmur of ocean on the stones,
Till now unheard; hushed is the voice of man,
Only the sea hath anything to say.
Myrrha.
[Going to the window.]
And every torch that but this moment burned,
Is vanished everywhere and all is dark.
Agrippina goes and slowly seats herself in the chair.]
Agrippina.
Come from the window, touch the harp for me!
What does this mean? What bodes this sudden lull?
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Myrrha.
I cannot hold the harp.
Acerronia.
I grow afraid.
Agrippina.
Children, be still! What is it that you fear?
Perhaps Sabinus is returned.
Acerronia.
That knock
Had more imperious sound.
Agrippina.
Myrrha, play on.
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Lady, forgive me, but I fear to stay.
[She hurries out through the curtain doorway. A second and louder knock is heard.]
Agrippina.
To Myrrha, who starts up in alarm.]
O child be still!
Perhaps my son has sent a messenger
For news of me.
Myrrha.
Why do they open not?
They all are fled below. I cannot stay
Longer. I seem to suffocate with dread.
[She, too, is going out.]
Agrippina.
You, too?
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O Lady, could I stay, I would,
But—
[She follows Acerronia out.]
Agrippina.
O there is no escape! Who can escape
From Rome? She sentinels the utmost sea
And sundered island; none can fly from Rome.
[A sound comes as of a door broken down. There is the heavy tramp of armed men on the stair. Then the door on the right is dashed open and Anicetus enters. Agrippina, who has re-seated herself, does not rise; the lamp illumining her face. She does not deign to speak. At last the silence is broken by Anicetus.]
Anicetus.
Imperial Lady, the Emperor has sent us
To ask if you are yet recovered quite
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Pacing in deep anxiety the shore
And he will have no peace till we return.
Agrippina.
Peace!
Anicetus.
We would hear from you by spoken word
What to report to him.
Agrippina.
[Quietly.]
Then tell my son
That I am—well; a little shaken yet,
But in a long sleep shall recover quite.
My arm you see is bruised, but even now
Is healing without pain. Tell him from me
His mother would not he should vex himself
With apprehensions; I shall soon be well.
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I will inform him so.
Agrippina.
And say this, too,
That I would like to go far, far away
And live out what remains to me of life
In deep seclusion, with no rankling thought
But memory; I could join his wife perhaps
Octavia, in Pandateria;
And find her a companion in exile;
Tell him my head is weary of the state,
And aches too much with this Imperial care.
And now, no doubt, it is as well that he
Go on alone; I set him where he is,
Now leave him to himself; I feel that I
Am but a bar to his Imperial dream.
But yet I hope that my son's reign may far
Outsplendour all precedent Emperors,
And with his triumphs Rome may roar and rock.
My place will be to watch him afar off,
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Loving him from the limits of the world.
Anicetus.
I'll so report you.
Agrippina.
[Gradually losing her self-control.]
So I understand
The Emperor is much perturbed in mind.
Can he not find relief in harp-playing,
Or in some verse upon my near escape?
[She rises, speaking with passion.]
O let this solemn folly have an end!
You are sent here to kill me, that I know.
[Anicetus starts.]
Why else this military silence kept?
And I am caught here without hope of flight,
To die as the rat dies. Give me a sword
And Nero, set us one against the other,
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[A murmur.]
But if I must die here, then tell him this,
That dead I'll vex him worse than e'er in life,
Gathering an added swiftness from the tomb,
And unretarded by the body strike.
Did Clytemnæstra need to cry aloud
Upon the slumbering Furies? They shall start
Upon my whisper, hissing in his ear
For all his deep draughts of Falernian wine.
The night may pass, but the red cloud of dawn
Shall bring the colour of his mother's blood.
You, Anicetus, are well chosen here,
You have not yet forgot the public jest
I put upon you before all the court,
I see them laugh still at your scarlet face.
Not all the blood you spill upon this floor
Shall ever wipe that ringing laughter out.
Anicetus.
Lady, I have forgotten.
[Half unsheathing his sword.]
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No, ah, no!
Else would you not so fumble with your sword;
Insult, and blows, and ruin are forgot,
Ridicule never; 'tis the eternal thrust.
This vengeance that you take with arméd men
Is somewhat heavy-handed, Anicetus,
Lacking in lightness and in humour; you
Have no reply but dullness of a blow,
But I have stabbed your littleness more deep
Than ever you my greatness could assail.
[She snatches up the lamp and dashes it on the floor, plunging the stage in darkness.]
'Tis dark and I am ready for the grave.
[As one of the soldiers is stealing up behind her she stops him.]
Not in the back! In front this wound should be!
Nero, strike here, here strike where thou wast born!
[The curtain rapidly falls as they rush upon her.]
| Nero's Mother | |