_Room in Otho’s house. Enter POPPÆA._
_POPPÆA._
My dream was strange: but why of all strange dreams
Stands forth this dream, to say it hath a meaning?
There lies the mystery: the dream were nothing.
’Tis such a dream as I have prayed to dream.
’Tis such a dream as an astrologer
Must love to interpret. Nay, there’s but one way
Seleucus can explain it.
_Enter Seleucus._
I looked for thee
An hour ago: thou’rt late.
_SELEUCUS._
The seasons, lady, 720
Of divination are determinate
By stars and special omens: ’tis our skill
To observe their presage. The hour is favourable.
Thy dream ...
_Pop._ Is’t good?
_Sel._ Beyond thy hope.
_Pop._ Then tell it.
_Sel._ Two thousand sesterces....
_Pop._ I have it here.
See! I was ready for thee. [_Gives him a purse._
_Sel._ I thank thee, lady.
_Pop._ Now for thy message.
_Sel._ I have sought out thy dream
By every means our art....
_Pop._ Mind not the means.
_Sel._ There is one interpretation clear throughout....
_Pop._ And that? 730
_Sel._ Thou shalt be wife unto two Cæsars.
_Pop._ Two! Now be Isis praised. Two! O, Seleucus,
Thou’rt an astrologer. Two! this is life,
Seleucus; this is life as well as fortune.
What are the names?
_Sel._ There ends my message, lady.
_Pop._ ’Tis good so far, but stays unkindly. Search,
I must know more. Above all things, the affair
Is secret. (_Knocking heard._) I will send my servant to thee.
Thou must be gone: our business will not suffer
My husband stumbling on thee here. This way.
[_Exit Seleucus, being put out._
My dream was true: my hopes and schemes inspired
Of heaven; yet this is far beyond them all. 741
Wife to two Cæsars; maybe, mother of Cæsars.
[_Noise at door._
To sit upon their rare, successive thrones,
A manifold Augusta! Here’s my husband.
What would he say? Two Cæsars, ay, two Cæsars!
[_Laughing heard without._
_Enter Otho._
_OTHO._
Good evening, love.
_Pop._ Who laughed with thee without?
_Oth._ Lucan. He walked with me from Cæsar’s supper.
_Pop._ Was Cæsar riotous?
_Oth._ Beyond all bounds.
_Pop._ See what you husbands are. You go abroad
For pleasure, and when met among yourselves 750
Push all to excess, and never think how patiently
Your wives must mope at home, and wait your coming.
And when you do return, up to the door
You bring your merriment; but at the door
’Tis left, and in you come, in solemn glumness,
To vent the sour reaction of your revels
Upon your housekeeper.
_Oth._ Enough, Poppæa;
I would be cheered.
_Pop._ Then I will cheer thee, love.
But what’s the matter?
_Oth._ Listen. Thou hast reproached me
With going forth alone. What else could be? 760
Would’st thou consent to sit there at my side,
Where I, a man, am oft ashamed to sit?
Would’st thou, could’st thou be one among the women
Of Cæsar’s fancy?
_Pop._ I spake not seriously.
_Oth._ See, but I do. I tell thee, love, this night
Thou wert invited.
_Pop._ I!
_Oth._ He would have pressed it.
_Pop._ Who would have pressed it?
_Oth._ Cæsar.
_Pop._ What dost thou say?
(_Aside._) He treads on prophecy.
_Oth._ Knowing thy mind,
And mine, I begged him for our friendship’s sake
Urge me no further.
_Pop._ Thou did’st well, and he? 770
_Oth._ Again to-night he asked for thee. ’Twas this
Which made me sad and thoughtful.
_Pop._ Why be sad?
_Oth._ The meaning, love, the meaning: thou must guess it.
_Pop._ The very reason, Otho, which thou urgest
Against my going, is in truth the reason
Why such as I should go. As Cæsar’s friend,
Thou would’st do well to save him from the slough
He daily sinks in.
_Oth._ Nay, but such a stake
For such a flimsy hope.
_Pop._ I see a hope
In the invitation. Otho, let us see 780
What may be done among his friends.
_Oth._ Poppæa,
’Tis generously thought, but ’tis a thing
Must not be thought. Trust to my judgment, love.
’Tis Cæsar’s love of power that threats us here;
He would have nought held from him. Thee I hold,
And most because I know thou would’st be mine.
_Pop._ Then thou must trust me, Otho.
_Oth._ And so I do.
_Pop._ Why, I were well his match. Let us go in.
[_Exeunt._