SCENE.--_The tiring chamber of_ POPPAEA--_signs of luxury, implements
of a Roman lady's toilet of the period_. POPPAEA _reclining, with a
single maid_.
POPPAEA. 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.
POPPAEA. 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
Between you and the world: but Agrippina,
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
This veil, the web of mine, hath struggling held
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
That slowly overcomes the fainting brain.
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?
Is't for myself? You know well--'tis for you;
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 it 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.
POPPAEA. 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 Baiae 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,
But not my man, my Otho! Think you I
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 loveliness.
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
Your wife behind you, from dull jealousy
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, possess 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?
OTHO. 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_.