_Ner._ Farewell till supper.
_Agr._ Why! so short a visit!
_Ner._ We shall meet soon.
_Agr._ Well, I will sail alone
With Polla; ’tis her wish. Escort me, Nero?
_Ner._ Ay.
_Agr._ For the sake of that I’ll go at once.
I love the sea.
[_Exeunt Nero with Agr. and Fulv. down the quay,
where they are still seen._
_Sen._ Burrus, what say you now!
Has not the thing I looked for come to pass? 2690
_Bur._ There’s as you say a most astounding change;
Can you explain it?
_Sen._ Well, you see it, Burrus.
_Bur._ How came it all about?
_Sen._ See now how tenderly
They both embrace.
_Bur._ Who would have thought it?
_Sen._ I;
I should have thought it: and I point to this
To justify my words those many times
Our speech has come to difference.
_Re-enter Nero. Fulvia goes into house._
_Ner._ Now, lords,
I go.
_Bur. and Sen._ We follow, Cæsar.
_Ner._ I have changed my mind;
I want you not. [_Going._
_Bur._ Will Cæsar name the hour
When we shall wait on him? 2700
_Ner._ Why, come at once.
I cannot tell what hour I may not want you.
Attend me at my villa. [_Exit._
_Bur._ Of a sudden
He is changed again.
_Sen._ You see how easily
He is overcome with kindness. Would you know
The noble sacrifice he has made?
_Bur._ What’s that?
_Sen._ Why, he has renounced Poppæa.
_Bur._ Nay!
_Sen._ Ay.
_Bur._ Who told you?
_Sen._ I saw the letter.
_Bur._ How! Poppæa shows it?
_Sen._ ’Twas writ his mother.
_Bur._ Then he has deceived her.
_Sen._ Can you think that?
_Bur._ The letter makes all plain.
Why did he write it?
_Sen._ Why?
_Bur._ Well, well.
_Sen._ Oh, Burrus, 2710
I have every cause for hope; and here to-day
The meeting in this house more than assures me
He must redeem the promise of his youth.
’Twas in this very room, ten years ago,
I first saw Nero—Ay, ’tis now ten years—
I was arrived from Corsica at Rome,
And there found summons to attend the Augusta
At Baiæ: hither in all haste I came.
The yearnings and the miseries of exile
Would make a mean deliverer seem a god, 2720
And my return drave me half mad with joy.
I entered: in that chair sat Agrippina,
My kind deliverer, my friend, the empress.
Time had not marred her beauty, and as she spake
Impatience flushed her cheek—she shared my joy.
I knelt in tears there, nor ashamed of tears,
Though at her side I was aware was standing
A boy of some twelve years; whom, when I rose,
She then presented as her son, and bade me
Take him for pupil. As I saw him then 2730
In fullest grace of boyhood, apt in all
Boys should be manly in, and gifted further
Than boys are wont with insight, and the touch
Of human sympathy and learned taste,
Proficient in some arts and dull in none,
But coy withal and generous, ’twas no wonder
If ere that evening passed I had admitted
The schemes his mother had laid, which in short time
Were brought to pass.
_Bur._ ’Twas a black day.
_Sen._ And yet,
Burrus, if after you had seen how kindly 2740
He took instruction, how he came to love me,
You would not wonder—nay, I can remember
Claudius himself was shamed if his Britannicus,
Being younger but by some two years, were by
Where Nero was: and had I been the father
I might have wished, I think, to have done as he,
And called the best my son.
_Bur._ He killed Britannicus.
_Sen._ Burrus, if as it seems you quite distrust him,
Why hold you still the office which establishes
His power?
_Bur._ Because it is an office, Seneca, 2750
The top of my profession: yet, by the gods,
Find you a better man, and I’ll be gone.
But, as a soldier, I’ll not see the guards
Commanded by some brute like Tigellinus.
_Sen._ Nay, be not angry.
_Bur._ Would not you be angry
Thus to be questioned?
_Sen._ Nay, indeed, by habit
I question oft myself.
_Bur._ Then, for one question
I’ll be appeased. I know you, Seneca,
For a man of many parts, a scholar, poet,
Lawyer, and politician, what you will; 2760
A courtier too besides, a man of business,
A money-maker; in short, a man of the world,
That like a ship lifting to every wave,
Heeling to every blast, makes good her way
And leaves no track. Now what I ask is this:
How ride so lightly with the times, and yet
Be the unbending stoic, the philosopher,
The rock, I say, that planted in the deep
Moves not a hair, but sees the buffeting breakers
Boil and withdraw? Which is the matter, Seneca?
Nay, ’tis a pertinent and friendly question— 2771
I’ll take your answer as we go along.
[_Exeunt Burrus and Seneca._
_Re-enter Fulvia._
_Ful._ Of all delights I think that liberty
Is the prime element: nothing is pleasant
Joined with a must. Why, even this journey hither
That has so cheered my mistress, all the talk
Of sky and fields and trees, tired me to death.
I’m sick of servitude, with ’time for this’
And ’time for that’: I’d give my ears for freedom;
[_She sits in Agrippina’s chair._
To have my servants, and say—Prithee, Fulvia,
What is o’clock?—Fetch me the little kerchief
I left upon my bed—Come, Fulvia, quick; 2782
I want you—Fulvia, go, order my litter—
Fulvia, be gone; we’ve business—Fulvia, stay,
Amuse me for a while.—I would to heaven
I were in Rome again! (_Shouts heard._) Hey, what a noise!
Cheering my lady! here’s a change indeed.
Well, I shan’t lose by that. Gods, how they cheer!
She might have taken me with her. I know well
I shan’t see the outside of these villa walls 2790
Till bound for home. And here no visitors,
At least for me. Cheer on, my lads! and yet
If I should get the chance I’d like to see
These famous Neapolitans: I’m told
They’re wondrous saucy, and ingenious singers.
What’s that? a boat! my lady! gracious heavens!
[_A boat rows up to quay._
My lady, O my lady, what’s the matter?
_Enter Agrippina up from the quay, clothes dripping; the
boat remains._
_Agr._ An accident, and I am escaped by swimming:
Yet thou must know, Fulvia, ’twas a contrivance
To take my life—the kindness was all hollow—
A dastardly contrivance: ’twas the ship 2801
Seleucus spoke of. Look, I am hurt in the shoulder,
Yet ’tis not much.
_Ful._ Alack, alack, my lady!
_Agr._ I am cold and faint. I must at once go shift
These dripping habits. When I am rested somewhat
Thou shalt hear all: meanwhile, call in the sailors
Who rowed me hither: get from them whate’er
They saw or know, and promise a reward
Worthy of my deliverance. [_Going._
_Ful._ Praised be the gods,
My lady, that thou’rt safe.
_ Agr._ (_turning_). Polla is killed. [_Exit._
_Ful._ What, Polla! Killed! she said killed. Polla killed!2811
Ho! fellows, come within, nay, come within.
_Sailors enter._
_SAILOR._
We are not fit, my lady. By thy leave,
We are poor fishermen.
_Ful._ Come, fellows, come.
Which is the captain?
_Sail._ Me, so please thee, lady.
_Ful._ Ye have brought the empress safe, and for that service
Shall have a good reward. But, tell me now,
How came she in your boat?
_Sail._ ’Twas thus, my lady.
It being the feast, we smartened up the boat
And pulled her close along the shore, to find 2820
A party of landsmen, such as love to visit
Misenum, or be rowed across the bay
To Pausilypum, lady, and Virgil’s villa.
When, as we lay, the Augusta’s galley passed,
Not half a cable’s length, and then we cheered,
And after took no note of her, till Gripus,
He cries, Look! see the galley. And there she was
Laid on her beam-ends in the offing. Ho!
We cried, and gave the alarm, and led the chase
To reach her first: when presently she righted, 2830
Steadied, and trimmed her oars, and drew away.
While we were wondering and talking of it
I spied a something floating, and again
Putting about, saw ’twas a swimmer’s head.
Four other boats with ours made for it too;
But we gave way with a will and held our own,
And coming alongside, found ’twas the Augusta.
I reached her out an oar, and I and my mate
Lifted her in handsomely. Then she bad us
Straight row her hither. She’s a most brave lady,
Ay, and can swim. 2841
_Ful._ Know you no more?
_Sail._ No, lady.
We looked, but saw naught else, not even a spar.
The Augusta told us there was none but she.
_Ful._ What was the reason why the galley heeled?
_Sail._ I cannot tell.
_Ful._ What could it be?
_Sail._ D’ye see,
My lady, ’tis the Admiral’s boat, this galley.
It’s not for me....
_Ful._ There’s not a breath of wind.
_Sail._ The mischief was aboard.
_Ful._ You know no more?
_Sail._ Nothing, my lady.
_Ful._ Then begone; to-morrow
Come for your recompense. I know not yet 2850
The Augusta’s pleasure.
_The Sailors._ Thank thee, thank thee, my lady.
[_Exeunt Sailors._
_Ful._ ’Tis plain the men know nothing.
_Sailor_ (_returning_). Please thee, lady,
If not too bold, we’ll ask thee if the Augusta
Has taken harm from being so long in the water.
_Ful._ Thank you, my men. I pray she’s none the worse.
_Sail._ ’Tis bitter cold, indeed. But I can tell
She’s of good stuff; ay, and can swim.
_Ful._ Be sure
You are fortunate to have done her this good service.
_Sail._ I make my humble duties. [_Exit._
_Ful._ Alas, alas!
What can this mystery mean? I die to hear. 2860
I must now go attend her; ah! here she comes.
_Enter Agrippina._
_Agr._ Fetch me some wine and a warm coverlet;
The fur one from my bed.
_Ful._ Ay, madam, quickly. [_Exit._
_Agr._ I have no friend here but her and the few servants
Upon the place: ’tis plotted well indeed
To catch me thus alone: Mistress Poppæa
Is seen in this. Yet being escaped, I think
I yet will prove her match.
_Re-enter Fulvia._
Ah, thank you, so.
_Ful._ Are you recovered, madam, from the shock?
_Agr._ I am warm again. I think too that my hurt
Is very little: but I am somewhat shaken. 2871
_Ful._ What is it that hath happed? The sailors knew
Nothing but that they found you.
_Agr._ Did they see
Nothing?
_Ful._ They saw the galley lurch, and say
The Admiral must know.
_Agr._ ’Tis likely enough
’Twas his contrivance. Now I’ll tell thee all,
Fulvia, and thou must help me all thou canst
When thou hast heard: indeed I tell thee partly
To clear my judgment.—We had rowed about a mile,
Polla and I, and sat upon the poop, 2880
Taking our pleasure, when, all on a sudden,
Darkness; the awning fell, with such a crash
As took away my spirits, and Polla and I
Were thrown down from our couches by the weight
Of falling cloth and spars: one heavy beam
Grazed my left shoulder, and we lay crushed down
Upon the deck. Then I heard Polla laugh,
Finding we were not hurt, and she crept forth
Forward, beneath the curtains; the oars stopped:
I heard a rush of feet, and presently 2890
Came Polla’s voice, ’Hold, slay me not, ye villains,
I am Agrippina.’ Then, ’Ah me, I am slain!’
And one long deathly groan. This, when I heard,
Taught me my part, and towards the other side,
Crawling, I came to the window o’er the stern,
Where lay my only escape; and silently,
Feet foremost, I crept out, and by the ladder
Slipped down without a sound into the sea.
The galley still held way, and in few strokes
I saw that I was left and unperceived; 2900
And so swam on until the fishermen
Hailed me by name, and took me in their boat.
_Ful._ Who can have laid this plot to kill you, madam?
_Agr._ ’Tis Nero, Fulvia, he who seemed but late
So kind and dutiful: ’twas all hollowness,
Part of the plot, to bring me here alone,
Away from friends: ay, and perceive this too,
To lay my death to charge of an accident,
And hide, maybe, even my dead body, drowned
And lost in the depths of the sea. Now, being alone,
I shall need thee to aid me.
_Ful._ Dearest madam, 2911
What can I do?
_Agr._ Thou must be faithful to me
Whatever happens. Hearken, I said ’twas Nero
Had done this: ’tis not so; my real enemy,
The mover, is Poppæa. I blame not Nero:
I bade him to discard her: he was driven
To choose between us: she hath carried it.
But being escaped, and she not here, I yet
Can right myself with him. ’Tis not too late;
Nay, I can amply trust those broad affections, 2920
Which ’twixt a mother and her son remain
At bottom, spite of all. Ay, they remain.
The common knowledge of this guilty attempt
Will clear the way: and when I show the path,
He will be glad to escape. I have writ a letter,
Which, if he read, will work. ’Tis pure submission.
Remember, we must ever speak of this
But as an accident. Here is the letter;
Send Agerinus with it straight to Cæsar;
Of all my servants he’s the one must bear it: 2930
Nero has known him from a child, will trust him;
Nay, he hath rid so oft upon his shoulders
That he is half a brother, half a father.
Send him at once: I have bidden him await:
He should be here.
_Ful._ Alas, this is a day
Of sorrow indeed. I pray Minerva guard
Her feast from ill. [_Exit with letter._
_Agr._ Indeed I have little fear,
If he but read. Yet now, after this warning,
I must beware. ’Tis plain the people love me; 2939
They cheered me so. My escape will add to favour.
_Ful._ (_re-entering_). He waited at the gate, and with full speed
Runs with the letter.
_Agr._ Come; one business
Must now be not neglected; there’s poor Polla.
Bring pens and ink and wax: we will seal up
All her effects, and make an inventory
In proper form, and do whate’er we may
While we have time. Let us go see to it. [_Exeunt._