(_Poppæa goes out, and is seen to hide where she can be seen by the
audience, and can overhear._)
_ACTE._
_Act._ Cæsar sent for me. 1051
_Ner._ My sweetest, dearest girl: my only pleasure.
I have ill news for thee.
_Act._ Nought can seem ill
Told me by Nero.
_Ner._ Acte, thy noble Cæsar
Is sometimes sad.
_Act._ Ah, ’tis the fire: thou’rt sorry
For thy poor folk. Would I had strength to cheer thee,
If thou didst send for this.
_Ner._ No: but to see thee
Doth comfort me. It comforts me to tell thee
I am not happy.
_Act._ Let the happiness
Which thy love gives me, turn to thee again. 1060
_Ner._ Acte, I think, I know, Acte, that thou
Art the only one in the world that truly loves me.
_Act._ I wish it were no crime to wish I were.
Yet I would have all love thee, since I know
None can as I.
_Ner._ And none hath loved so long:
Thou wert my first delight.
_Act._ Did Cæsar send
To tell me this bad news?
_Ner._ Nay, but I love to tell it:
Now for the bad. Hark: thou must leave the palace:
Poppæa is jealous, and the day draws near
When she and I must solemnize our nuptials:
Rome needs an heir.
_Act._ I am not jealous óf her,
If Cæsar love me; for I know that Cæsar
Cannot be bound like other men.
_Ner._ ’Tis true:
And I can send thee too where they will love thee;
To Silia’s house; thou wilt be happier there.
_Act._ I think so.
_Ner._ This is not dismissal.
_Act._ Nay.
_Ner._ ’Tis needful for thy sake.
_Act._ I know that Nero
Will not love Acte less, when she is away
From his dislikes.
_Ner._ Ah, pretty sweet, thou know’st
My secretest heart. Come, I will write a letter
For thee to take to Silia. Come! (_The fire brightens._)
_Act._ (_turning_). O, Nero, 1081
The fire, the fire! I am frightened.
_Ner._ Hide thine eyes
And think not of it.
_Act._ Nay, but I can hear it,
And smell the smoke.
_Ner._ It shall not hurt thee, darling:
And Silia’s house lies down beyond the Tiber,
Far from the flames. Come, sweetest, thou shalt sit
Beside me while I write the letter. Come!
I treasure thee ’bove all I have. Fear not!
[_Exeunt Nero and Acte. Poppæa comes out from
where she was hid. The fire rages._
_Pop._ Accursed wretch! I knew it: she is thy wife.
And I thy harlot. Yet I can dissemble—
I can dissemble too—I, sanctified
By long devotion to the Queen of heaven,
Shelter too well thy godless head. I live
To reign when thou art dead. Vain, hideous fool!
Whose heart not murder scathes nor fire can scare,
Proof by self-evil against all outer evil:
There is one mischief that thou’rt not a match for,
The hate of thy bed-fellow. I shall be avenged.
(_There is at the end of this act such a tableau of fire as the stage
machinery will allow of. The fire is first seen thro’ the windows when
Tigellinus sends Nero to the window at line 986. At Acte’s speech,
‘Nero, the fire!’ it is very bright: and its climax is during Poppæa’s
last speech._)