_Room in the Palace. Enter AGRIPPINA and
PALLAS._
_AGRIPPINA._
Pallas, thy date is out: thou art dismissed;
Thou goest from the court: yet what thou takest 790
May soften thy regrets. Thy shiny days
Were not misspent, and thou may’st live like Cæsar.
Farewell, we still are friends: the debt I owe
I shall remember: ’twas thy power that first
Gave root to mine: for thee, I think my favours
Were once thy pleasure. If those days are gone,
We can look time in the face; we have not wasted
The days that flew: ’tis now with what remain
Still to be careful. Friends and firm allies.
_Pal._ Ay, firm as ever.
_Agr._ Nay, though thou goest first,
That is not much: even that I cannot save thee 801
Is sign that I am fallen ere thou could’st fall:
A deeper, deadlier fall, unless indeed
My wit can save me still.
_Pal._ Alas, dear queen,
Fear makes this parting sad. But if there’s hope,
’Tis this, to gain thy son.
_Agr._ Ay, till our schemes be ripe;
And even though Seneca betray me,—and that
Is sure,—I fear not him. I know my son
Better than he, and I shall win him yet.
My plan is now to seem resigned to all: 810
I will pretend my purpose is to leave him,
And fly from Rome to voluntary exile.
’Twill work upon his fear and duty both,
To cut himself quite off from me, and all
That goes with me. He will entreat me stay;
And if I stay—
_Pal._ Ay, if this storm go by,
The turns of time may offer us reprisals.
At present use all means to gain thy son.
_Agr._ I shall. Farewell.
_Pal._ Be bold. The gods protect you.
Farewell. 820
_Agr._ Farewell. [_Exeunt severally._
_Enter Tigellinus and Paris._
_TIGELLINUS._
Look from the window: thou wilt see ’tis true;
He takes all with him.
_PARIS._
Nay, if this is all.
_Tig._ This much were all: and yet this caravan
Is but the least of six; His monstrous Grace
Brings up the rear.
_Par._ ’Tis nobly done of Cæsar.
_Tig._ ’Tis noble, say you, that the thief go quit
With all his plunder from the house he plundered?
_Par._ Hark how the weasel can upbraid the fox!
Good Tigellinus, there’s no need to grudge
Pallas his scrapings; the sea is full of fish: 830
Rather thou should’st rejoice because thou seest
Thy probable hap. Pray that as many mules,
Litters and bags and bales, women and slaves
May comfort thee.
_Enter Nero with Domitia._
_NERO._
Paris, what do you here?
_Par._ I comfort Tigellinus on the fate
Of his predecessor.
Ner._ (_at window_). Gods! see what a train
_Drags out the very bowels of the palace.
No wonder my good mother’s man resigns
With resignation.
_Tig._ Ha! ha!
_Ner._ I seek the Augusta.
She late was here; go find her; say I wait her. 840
[_Exeunt Tigellinus and Paris._
_DOMITIA._
Through my discovery, Nero, thy good fortune
Lifts thee a corner of the veil whereunder
Thy mother plots. Be not thou now deceived
To further trust. She is bent upon thy ruin.
_Ner._ Though it be true she urged Britannicus
Even in those words, we lack the surety yet
She spoke them in good faith.
_Dom._ O, there’s no doubt.
_Ner._ My mother is very deep, and often looks
Far from her meaning. She will use this way
To worm a confidence. 850
_Dom._ She did not then.
Ner. Yet must the boy have thought so, for you said
That what she urged he took not all in kindness.
_Dom._ He bade her speak with Burrus.
_Ner._ The villainous brat!
_Dom._ Drive not the fault on him. Did Burrus waver,
Nothing could save thee. And it seems thy mother
Had hope to win him. She comes; now be thou firm.
I will be gone. _[Exit._
_Ner._ (_solus_). Now she cannot deceive me.
_Enter Agrippina._
_Agr._ My son, thy mother comes at thy command.
_Ner._ O excellent mother!
_Agr._ What would’st thou with me, son?
I come to hear, and yet I scarce am fit 860
For banter or abuse. I am ill to-day.
_Ner._ No wonder; ’tis you do too much. ’Twere better
You spared yourself. Go rest; my business
Will not cure headaches.
_Agr._ Speak whate’er it be.
_Ner._ Nay, if you’re ill—
_Agr._ My sickness will not pass.
To-morrow I shall leave thee; that last grief
Will soon engulph the rest: speak while thou may’st.
_Ner._ What’s this! leave me to-morrow?
_Agr._ I would spare thee
That worst disgrace of sending me away.
I go of myself. 870
_Ner._ What now?
_Agr._ ’Tis well resolved.
I have been foolish; ’twas a mother’s fault,
A tender fault: forget it, and hereafter
Know my love better. If my presence bred
Dislike, thy kinder mind may yet return
When I am gone.
_Ner._ Why, what has happed, I pray?
_Agr._ Nothing. I have only come to see my error.
I thought, ’twas I that gave him all....
_Ner._ Tut! tut!
’Tis the old story told a thousand times.
_Agr._ Ay, and forgot as oft. Thy constant wrongs,
I think, have dug my grave. Dost thou remember
What answer once I made the sorcerer 881
Who prophesied thy fortune? Thy son, he said,
Shall reign, and kill his mother. Let him kill me,
So that he reign, I cried. He spake the truth,
But ’tis by grief thou slay’st me.
_Ner._ That old rubbish
Were best forgotten.
_Agr._ Indeed, I had forgot it:
But yesternight I dreamed it all again;
A frightful dream: plain as I see thee now
Stood’st thou before me thus, with angry words
[_She acts._
Mocking, until I wept for shame; but thou 890
Did’st only laugh the more. Then ran I to thee,
And bared my breast, and cried, Kill me, O son!
And thou fastened’st thy snaky eyes upon me,
So that I could not see what thy hand did.
But, oh! I knew. I heard thy weapon grate
Leaving the scabbard, and a fiery pang
Pierced through my heart. Ah!
_Ner._ (_aside_). Heavens, is she mad?—
Mother, good mother, mother! 899
_Agr._ ’Twas nothing. Nay, where am I? I was come
To hear thy speech. What is’t thou hast to say?
_Ner._ (_aside_). If this were trickery? Let the fact try.—
’Twas this: what speech you held the other morning
With young Britannicus.
_Agr._ (_aside_). Ah! knows he that?—
Thy spies are most alert. This time, at least,
I praise their zeal: though thou art slow to thank me
For my kind service done to thee and him.
_Ner._ Whether is it kinder, say you, to him to urge him
To embrace the desperate plot, of which already
He stood suspected, or more kind to me 910
To water this rebellion with the tears
Of your insidious passion?
_Agr._ Your man’s a fool: I heard
Your quarrel, and took pains to sound the boy.
_Ner._ Next you saw Burrus.
_Agr._ Well, and what said he?
_Ner._ Nay, that’s for you to tell.
_Agr._ ’Twas this: Britannicus
Most truly said that nought could help his claim,
Except the guards and Burrus: at which word
I flew to Burrus, offered him the bait;
And when he showed the scruple of his oath,
Three words from me confirmed him. 920
_Ner._ If this were true!
_Agr._ How much you need me, Nero, will be plain
When I am gone. Who has deceived you now?
Who works this madness in you, to conceive
That your disaster could be gain to me?
Have you believed what angry words I spoke
Were born of purpose, that my threats against you
Were aught but passion? You count not the tears,
The bitter, secret tears, for every pang
Your wrongs have wrought in me; and bitterer far,
The sharp remorse for each retaliation 930
Of speech provoked in anger. Let it end;
’Tis best I go.
_Ner._ See! if you had gone before
We had never quarrelled; now there’s nought to lose
By going, ’tis a quarrel that you go.
_Agr._ No quarrel, nay. ’Tis only this: I thought
That in your love I held perpetual office.
’Tis not so. Now my time is out: I go
As Pallas goes.
_Ner._ The sleek, extortionate Pallas,
Dost thou defend the despicable Pallas?
_Agr._ I would be kind to friends; none will stand by you, 940
If you cast off those to whom most you owe.
’Twas first through him I came to seize the power
That made you Cæsar. Look! you have lost a friend.
Be wiser when I am gone.
_Ner._ I have good friends,
Burrus and Seneca: I trust them both.
_Agr._ Cannot you read the cause why still they urge you
To cast me off?
_Ner._ ’Tis the disgrace they feel
To see the empire managed by a woman.
_Agr._ ’Tis the constraint they feel in all their actions
Being overruled by me. Do you not see 950
They are my ministers, and you are ruled
By them in all they counsel? Rid of me,
They rule the world. Think you, when they have cast
What was above them underneath their feet,
They will have care to exalt what was below?
_Ner._ They both are honest men; you chose them well.
_Agr._ You are too trustful, Nero. As you love
Your life, I say, be jealous of these men;
These men that now would rule thee but to take
The empire from thy hands. They may speak ill 960
Of me,—believe that if thou list,—but oh!
If once they seem to encroach, delay not then;
Hear no excuse nor explanation; strike,
Kill them, I say, before they murder thee.
_Ner._ But, mother, Seneca loves me.
_Agr._ As a master
Will love a pupil while he takes instruction.
He’ll love you while you let him reign. Alas!
I scarce dare leave you to him. You are too kind;
Will shrink to use the sword as it is needful
For one who rules to wield.
_Ner._ You cannot think 970
These men would serve me so.
_Agr._ What is my purpose?
My life’s one object, my supreme ambition?
Was’t not to raise thee where thou art, and now
Is’t not to keep thee there?
_Ner._ So once I thought.
_Agr._ O think it yet. Look! there is none can love you,
Nero, as I must love you; there’s not one
Can guard you as I can. Have I not proved
My power? While I am by you, it is yours.
_Ner._ Stay then.
_Agr._ O that it might be!
_Ner._ Thou shalt not go.
Resign thy outward power; be in all else 980
As heretofore. Forget what I suspected.
Be still my mother.
_Agr._ Alas!
_Ner._ Yea, I will have it.
_Agr._ It cannot be.
_Ner._ Why not?
_Agr._ Seneca, my son,
Will not permit it.
_Ner._ Who is Seneca
To say me nay?
_Agr._ Unless you join with me
He will o’errule you.
_Ner._ He shall not o’errule me.
_Agr._ For that I’d stay. I would give up all else
To stand by you: ay, and be happy so.
_Ner._ And so it shall be. Have thy private fortune,
Remain in Rome.
_Agr._ But can you trust me, Nero? 990
_Ner._ Nay, I will never more suspect thee. Kiss me.
_Agr._ O, now you are good and kind. Tell me, who was it
Did me this wrong?
_Ner._ It was Domitia told me.
She spied on thee.
_Agr._ My sister! ha! you know not
The grudge between us?
_Ner._ Yes, I know of that.
_Agr._ And not suspect her slander? Did she also
Commit Britannicus?
_Ner._ She cast all blame
On thee.
_Agr._ I feared she might have wronged the boy.
_Ner._ Is he, then, innocent?
_Agr._ I went so far
In sounding him as even to risk my credit. 1000
Let not unjust suspicion add a weight
To the just blame we bear. You must protect him.
Promise me that.
_Ner._ I will ask Seneca.
_Agr._ Forgive, at least, his foolish indiscretion.
He begged me make his peace. Now have I made it?
_Ner._ I’ll think no more of that.
_Agr._ My dearest son,
The joy of a good action will be yours
As well as mine. O, I am happy now—
Indeed, most happy now.
_Ner._ Come then, dear mother.
[_Exeunt._