 | Octavia |  |
ACT THE FOURTH.
SCENE THE FIRST.
Poppæa, Seneca.Pop.
Of me what wouldst thou?
Sen.
Pardon me, I come
Inopportunely; but, perchance, I come
For thy advantage.
Pop.
Wherefore, now, in thee
Springs such solicitude for my advantage?
Say, wert thou ever, art thou now, my friend?
What other reason than to injure me? ...
Sen.
I never would, assuredly, assist thee,
Did not the means of least risk to Octavia,
With means of thy advantage, coalesce.
Pity for th'innocent, illustrious lady,
A love of justice, and long weariness
Of my disgraceful and unfruitful life,
Lead me to speak; and from no other source
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From thee a patient hearing.
Pop.
Let us hear:
What canst thou say to me?
Sen.
That thou wilt soon
Become displeasing to the heart of Nero,
If he perceive the multitude persist
Tenaciously in hating thee. In this
I speak to thee the truth: I know Poppæa,
Nero, the times, and Rome.
Pop.
Thou knowest all
Except thyself.
Sen.
Men at my death will see
Whether I know myself. Hear me meanwhile;
Hear me, I pray thee. To thy own destruction,
With too much wishing to destroy Octavia,
Thou hastenest now. Rome taxes thee alone
Both with her exile and divorce: to thee
'Twill always be ascribed, if infamy,
Or greater punishment await her. Hence
The aversion 'gainst thyself, intense already,
The rancorous whisperings, a thousand-fold
Will be increased. The people, mutinous,
Are not dispersed; yet, grant that it were so,
Does not the day return in which 'twill be
Still more tremendous? Tremble for thyself,
Poppæa; for thy Nero has a heart,
If self-defence required the sacrifice,
To immolate the whole to save himself.
Perhaps a light obstacle allures to love;
But quickly one that's insurmountable
Destroys it in a bosom not sublime.
Then flatter not thyself: for Nero holds
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Far, far more precious than thy love, or thee.
And woe on thee, if he is forced by Rome,
To chuse betwixt you both.
Pop.
And I hold Nero
Far, far more precious than the throne. If I
Fear'd, on my own account, to risk his safety ...
But, what dost thou suggest? Is Nero not
The absolute lord of Rome? and shall he heed
A vile and apprehensive multitude,
Which silently, implicitly, obeyed
Tiberius and Caligula?
Sen.
Thou shouldst heed it,
If thou wilt not that Nero for himself
Should tremble at it; yes, defy all fear,
Remove the last remaining check from Nero;
And thou of this wilt be the first to feel
The sad effects. Useless is all the blood
Which solemnized thy fatal nuptial rites,
If ye dare add to-day Octavia's blood.
Reflect on Agrippina: her fierce son
She loved, but well she knew him; she would never,
From the apprehension of his rival brother,
Never exempt him. His ferocious cunning
At last prevail'd; and the unhappy youth
Imbibed the guilty poison in his breast.
Vain were the mother's arts, and soon for them
She paid herself the penalty. From thence
More resolute in crime, Nero we saw
Day after day more deeply plunge in blood.
Octavia now remains to such a monster
The only check; Octavia, Nero's terror,
Idol of Rome. Octavia take away;
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Soon wilt thou see him cloy'd. He loves thee now,
Because he has purchased thee with so much blood;
But if a danger, though a feeble one,
Thou cost him, love is gone. Ah then expect
That meed of which Nero was never sparing;
To those who love him most, the death most cruel.
Pop.
He comes; proceed.
Sen.
'Tis what I most desire.
SCENE THE SECOND.
Nero, Poppæa, Seneca.Ne.
Obey'st thou thus my prohibition, rebel? ...
Pop.
Ah come! ah come! and thou shalt hear ...
Ne.
Hear what?
Ere long and he shall also hear from me
The self-same arguments which I prepare
For all the people. But, oh rage! E'en yet
That execrable tumult ceases not:
Fruitless are prayers: ere long the sword shall come,
And it shall clear away an ample passage.
Poppæa, calm thy spirits: thou shalt see
Thy images to-morrow rise again
To heaven: and in the same filth, but bedaubed
With noisome, sable gore, thou shalt behold
Thy rivals dragged.
Pop.
Whate'er from this ensues,
Let Rome from thee now know that I have not
From thee exacted blood to expiate
This offered outrage; though it cost me much
To bear it. Yet the guilty people dares
Allege against me cruel views; and he,
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Though he believe them not. Thee I attest,
Thee, my first deity, of this: thou knowest
If I from thee have ever asked for aught
Except Octavia's exile. Evermore
To see her near me, who, without desert,
My Nero first possest, afflicted me:
But, with her exile satisfied, I deem'd
That she, for her so many crimes, received,
In losing thee, an ample punishment;
A punishment which I ...
Ne.
Let Seneca,
And, with him, let the vulgar prate at will.
Soon by convincing proofs I'll shew to Rome
What this her idol is.
Sen.
Nero, take heed;
It is more easy for thee to alarm,
Than to cheat Rome: the one thou oft hast done;
The other never.
Ne.
But of thee, thou knowest,
I often have avail'd myself to cheat her;
And thou in this wert tractable ...
Sen.
I too
Was often culpable; but I abode
In Nero's court.
Ne.
Vile slave! . .
Sen.
I was, so long
As I was silent; but now the day arises
When I unloose, to words ne'er heard before,
My tongue, no longer parasitical.
'Tis true, that words will be a poor atonement
For my delinquency; but perhaps my fame
May be recovered by a lofty death.
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I will give thee the fame thou meritest.
Sen.
While still I hear the murmurs of the people,
Which by the salutary check of fear
Soften thy fury, thou'rt constrain'd to bear me.
Meanwhile my heart exults to irritate
Thy haughty passions; and to make thee hear,
So make thee hear, the truth; that when again
Thy courage thou resumest, I shall fall
Its victim first; and if on me the blow
Of thy revenge first fall not, on Octavia,
I swear to thee, it never shall descend.
The already mutinous people I can raise,
And to more fury I can raise than ever;
I can and will fully reveal to them
Our infamous contrivances; and thus,
More than thou thinkest, to the extremest edge
Of fathomless perdition hurry thee.—
I was the counsellor of Nero once;
And mail'd my heart for him in borrow'd steel;
I, grovellingly, believed to flatter him,
Or rather feign'd belief, (alas too much!)
That circumventive arts for the lost throne
Rightfully cost Britannicus his life;
That Agrippina, since she gave to thee
The throne, was guilty; Plautius, and Silius,
Guilty in being reputed worthy of it;
And lastly feign'd that Burrhus too was guilty
From having many times preserved it for thee.
But guilty more than all the rest I deem'd,
And still I deem myself: and will proclaim it,
In life and death proclaim it openly,
To every creature that my voice can reach.
Satiate thy rage on me; thou mayest securely;
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To thee I do announce it, all her blood
Will turn, with large addition, to o'erwhelm thee.—
I've spoken; it behoved me once to speak.—
Thou wilt hereafter in reply bestow
On me—and at thy greatest leisure—death.
SCENE THE THIRD.
Nero, Poppæa.Pop.
Emperor, appease thy rage ...
Ne.
For words like these
I'll make thee pay ere long.—Oh insolence! . .
Then am I here of all men least, the slave
Of every braggard, till my army come?
Of contradictory and diverse schemes
On every side I have a stress: and those,
Whom by a sudden blow I would o'erwhelm,
By long elaborate contrivances,
And one by one, I'm forced to immolate.
Pop.
Oh what compunction in my heart I feel!
What conflict in myself! Of all thy cares
I am the guilty reason, I alone.
Ne.
The more thou costest me, the more I love thee.
Pop.
'Tis time at length, oh Nero, it is time,
That, by myself, a lofty remedy
Should be applied, since I alone possess it.
Ne'er hope the audacious people will be tranquil
While I am with thee. Ah, Rome now disdains
That generous progeny of the mighty Cæsars
Which I shall give her soon. 'Twere better far
That on the miscreated lineage
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Hereafter should devolve. A powerful mind,
Such as perchance I have not, could alone
Tear up this evil by the roots. Although
A pretext I afford, and nothing else,
To popular commotions which arise
Elsewhere, yet have I in my heart decreed ...
Ah, yes, but too irrevocably fixed! ...
I ought to do it, and I will ...
Ne.
Ah! cease.—
It was my business to gain time with time,
And somewhat of it I have gain'd already.
What fear'st thou now? Depend upon it, we
Shall be triumphant ...
Pop.
Ah permit that I,
If at thy feet I do not now expire,
Give thee my last farewel ...
Ne.
What sayest thou?
Arise! Shall I leave thee?
Pop.
What profits it
To feign with me? Do not I plainly see,
Emperor, that thou, alone to calm my spirits,
Forcest thyself to hide from me thy fears?
Do not I read thy heart's most secret movements
In thy beloved face? A lady's eye,
Sharpen'd by love, sees all things at a glance.—
At the audacious popular commotion
Octavia's coming caused, thou wert at first
Astonish'd; now thou hear'st the hardihood
Increasing, which affrighted ...
Ne.
I affrighted?
Pop.
I know thy firm heart still persists in vengeance;
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Remain obnoxious to repeated insults.
Thou wert constrain'd e'en now to hear with patience
The irreverent babblings of a Seneca:
Thou seest clearly ...
Ne.
I affrighted?
Pop.
Yes;
For me thou art so:—of another fear
Thou'rt not susceptible: thou feel'st alarm'd,
Lest on my head the popular storm should fall.—
Couldst thou now love, and not be apprehensive?
For me, 'tis easy from my own distress,
To infer thy state. Distracted by thy danger,
Full of thy image, mindless of myself,
The transient flash of a precarious peace
Suffices not to calm me. To our fears
I wish to put an end, and extricate
Thee from all risk, by my own sacrifice.—
For ever I will lose thee, to preserve
Entire for thee the affections of thy people.
Ne.
But what? dost think me ...
Pop.
Nero, say no more:
I will, in spite of thee, promote thy good:
I am resolved to abdicate thy throne;
To chuse a voluntary banishment
From Rome; and, if need be, from the vast empire.
Her, whom the multitude would now enthrone,
Let her be empress, since the multitude
Is made the arbiter of thy affections:
Yes, let her have the throne, (this is the least)
But she will have my Nero's bed and love ...
... Unhappy that I am! ... Thus wilt thou have
Security and peace.—'Twill be to me
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And if I cannot, while I live, possess thee,
'Twill be to me an ample solace, thus,
By quitting, to have snatch'd thee from all danger ...
Ne.
Yield, lady, to the entreaties of thy consort;
Or the injunctions of thy lord respect.
From me thou canst not, no, not e'en thyself
Can, take thyself away; except my life,
And my vast empire should be first snatch'd from me,
No human force can do it. To my vengeance,
Which ought to be so memorably fierce,
And to th'ungovernable rage that boils
Within my breast, (e'en I am forced to own it)
Compared with their intensity, the means
By which they operate are slow; and perhaps
They seem more tardy than they really are:
But is a vengeance resolute like mine,
Because suspended, dead?
Pop.
To save thyself,
Or to acquire more time, believe me, Nero,
My banishment is indispensable.—
Wouldst thou that I should by constraint depart,
While now I can with a good grace? The people
Dare menace even this; and this will be
The mildest of its threatenings. It pretends
To chuse another husband for Octavia,
And that he reign with her. Thus, thou dost see,
Sovereign arbitrement in her is centred.
Shall I permit thee for Poppæa's sake
T'exchange the throne? Ah! Nero, take at once
My last farewell ...
Ne.
Cease, cease: this is too much.
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And even should the day arrive, when thou
Shalt, o'er Octavia, and the people, gain
Sovereign ascendency, thou wilt incur
Thence, in no small degree, eternal hate.
And then, who knows? thou mightest blame for this
Wretched Poppæa. That which now thou feel'st,
Genuine regard for me, who knows, if thou
Repentant, wilt not then, for hate, exchange it?
Oh heaven! At such a thought my blood runs cold.
Ah! let me sooner die afar from thee ...
But thus, at least, I carry to the tomb
Thy love, with me, entire ...
Ne.
Let this suffice;
My rage already is too much inflamed ...
Dismiss all projects of abandoning me.
Rome, and the world, and heaven, permit it not,
Mine shalt thou always be: this Nero swears.
SCENE THE FOURTH.
Tigellinus, Nero, Poppœa.Ti.
Long live the emperor.
Ne.
Hast thou slain, dispersed them?
Am I the lord of Rome?—But what? thou comest
With an unbloody sword?
Ti.
The time for blood
Is not yet come; but it approaches swiftly.
But yet the greatest art is necessary;
Various reports I spread among the people:
Now, that thou perhaps didst meditate once more
To reinstate Octavia; if she could
From some aspersions of malignant tongues
Exonerate her fame: now, that the wild,
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Had, even in Octavia's bosom, roused
A noble indignation; and that she
Returns to Rome the harbinger of peace,
Not of disturbance ...
Pop.
Thinks the foolish people
That I, for her, feel pity? ...
Ne.
Always art,
Always? Never the sword?
Ti.
The circumstance
The most improbable, sometimes appears
True to the people. At these various tales,
Whether convinced, or wearied, it repress'd,
In a great measure, the extravagance
Of its rebellious joy. Meanwhile the day
Declines; and night's lugubrious shade will be
A signal to far other arguments.
Already the pretorians noiselessly
Have mustered; many are proscribed already.
The sun to-morrow will arise in blood;
And thence in silence. Yet if thou dost wish
Complete extinctions ere to-morrow's close
Of all refractory broils; if thou dost wish
A desolation long and terrible,
Should, to a false and transient joy, succeed;
Thou art constrain'd now to full light to bring
The heavy accusations urged already
Against Octavia: by another method
Thou ne'er wilt fully consummate thy purpose.
Thou canst not slay at will ...
Ne.
So much the worse.
Ti.
But thou mayst all convince. This, I assure thee,
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Ne.
Go, Tigellinus, since we are constrain'd to't,
And the projected accusation urge
With cautious vehemence. Poppœa, now,
Let us depart; soon shall we both obtain
A complete triumph o'er this impious woman.
Meanwhile the day will come, when my revenge
Shall be secured without the aid of others.
| Octavia | |