 | Octavia |  |
94
SCENE THE THIRD.
Nero, Octavia, Tigellinus, Seneca.Ti.
Emperor ...
Ne.
What bring'st thou, Tigellinus? speak.
Ti.
More and more fervently the tempest rages:
Thy judgment must apply the remedy.
Scarce heard the people that a sovereign mandate
Recall'd Octavia to Rome, than each
Is emulous to see her. Foolishly
They deem that thou hast changed thy first resolve:
And there are who assert that thou again
Hast in thy bed received her. Wild with joy,
These in the capitol prefer their vows;
On the neglected statues of Octavia
Those replace chaplets of triumphal laurel:
Others, with transport drunk, dare to cast down
Those of Poppæa; their audacity
So far has risen, that, 'mid cries and shouts,
Dragg'd in the dust and filth indignantly,
Broken they lie. With epithets of scorn
They execrate her name: and to the skies,
Nero, with acclamations loud, extol:
The greater part demands Poppæa's exile;
And some more cruel imprecate her death.
Triumphant hymns, and threatenings, thou wilt hear;
Then prayers and threats again, and prayers once more.
Each bosom burns: authority is fled.
The soldiers and commanders tried to stem
The irresistible, impetuous torrent;
In vain they tried; a moment saw them all
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What shall we do? What is thy sovereign will?
Ne.
What shall we do? ... The people must behold
This their Octavia:—Let her then be slain.
Oct.
See my defenceless bosom: if it please thee
Slay me at once. Ah, may my blood appease thee.
Shew me to th'inflamed multitude when dead:
Thou wilt at once, by doing this, repress
All culpable rejoicing. Let the urn,
This is my sole request, receive my relics,
That holds the ashes of Britannicus.
So may thy throne find in our monument
A sacred and an everlasting base.
Why dost thou now delay? receive my life;
I owe it to thy fury.
Sen.
If at once
Thou wouldst to-day both lose thy throne and life,
Certain the method is: Octavia slay.
Ne.
At all events on her I would take vengeance.
Oct.
Not only one death, I would have a thousand,
Ere the least detriment I caused to Nero.
Ti.
But the time presses more and more. Hear'st thou
Those savage howlings? I have never seen
So furious an attack; and so much less
Surmountable, as 'tis th'effect of joy.
'Tis needful to decide.
Oct.
Can it be doubtful?
Nero, henceforward, to prevent all tumult,
'Tis indispensable to slay or love me.
The one, thou couldst not even feign to do;
The other, for a long time thou hast wished:
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Or if this be not the propitious moment
For such decision, temporize awhile;
Thou easily may'st do it. Credulous
The people are, and if their sudden movements
Be from their channel turn'd, their force is lost.
This will be easy; 'twill alone suffice
That I with placid looks present myself,
As in thy favour I were reinstated;
That I but feign that I am thine. The crowd
Will thus be soon dispersed; all tumult quell'd.
Thus to unsheathe thy sword wilt thou gain time,
And to destroy thy victims.
Ne.
Yes, to Rome
Will I present thee: but first will discover
Whether I am in Rome the real master.
Thou, Tigellinus, to the camp repair;
Silently the pretorian bands assemble;
Thence with a terrible, unexpected force,
On the refractory fall; and by the death
Of whomsoe'er thou meetest mark thy steps.
Ti.
I will attempt it; though the consequence
Be most precarious. 'Twill, indeed, appear
A harsh expedient to repress with swords
A sudden gust of joy. And should it turn
To indignation? brief is the transition.
'Tis no light task to cope with a whole city:
Suppose that with my partisans I fall;
Who then remains in thy defence?
Ne.
'Tis true ...
But yet to yield would seem ...
Ti.
Now trust to me:
Do not incur a mighty danger lightly:
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Disperse them all.
Ne.
The guardian of Octavia
I remain here. In my name do thou go,
Shew thyself to them: what the people are
Thou knowest well; to temporize with them
Will be the worst. At thy discretion feign,
Grant, promise, cheat, destroy, and put in practice
Gold, terror, weapons, flattery, menaces,
So that they be o'ercome. Go, fly, return.
| Octavia | |