_MARINERS._
_1st Mar._ There was no weather permitting in it. I heard the Admiral
say he had his orders to sail for the Adriatic, and the ships at Formiæ
were to join him here last night.
_Gri._ Weather permitting.
_1st M._ No: no weather permitting. If it had been weather permitting,
would they have put out in the teeth of a sou’-wester? that’s what I
look at.
_2nd M._ No sailor would have done it; least of all Regulus.
_Gri._ Then ’twas Cæsar’s fault not to have said weather permitting.
_3rd M._ Eight firstrates: the pick of the fleet.
_1st M._ Nay, seven, mate. The Ulysses is put in for repairs.
_SENECIO._
What is it you talk of, fellows?
_1st M._ Why, where have you been, sir? Half the fleet’s ashore off
Misenum.
_Se^{o.}_ Wrecked?
_Gri._ Ay, that they be.
_Enter Epicharis._
_EPICHARIS._
Is it true, Gripus? Is the squadron lost?
_Gri._ True enough.
_Ep._ Was the Admiral with them?
_1st M._ Regulus: ’twas Regulus at Formiæ, lady.
_Ep._ Not Proculus?
_1st M._ Nay, he’s with his ships in the bay.
_Ep._ And the crews?
_2nd M._ Ther’ll not be many stand up, when they come ashore.
_Ep._ Poor fellows! And whose fault was this?
_Gri._ Cæsar’s, I say, lady: and none else.
_Se^{o.}_ Epicharis, see, I am returned. 1600
_Ep._ Well, I see you, sir. Have you been to Rome and back so soon?
_Se^{o.}_ Yes, my house is pulled down. But I saw the Christians burned.
_Ep._ Hark, sir; I have news for you. (_Takes him aside and speaks with
him._)
_Enter Proculus._
_PROCULUS._
What! a dozen of you fellows here! Up with you! be sharp, and off to
the point. See if you can’t be of some use. You may save a life or two
yet.
_Mar._ We have no orders, my lord.
_Pro._ Where do you expect to find your orders? Go and help your mates.
You may get into a scrape yourselves some day.
_Mar._ Very willing, my lord; so we be sent. (_All drain their cups
standing._)
_Pro._ Come, leave your possets.
_Mar._ Ay, ay, my lord. [_Exeunt Mariners._
_Pro._ Epicharis, wine!
_Ep._ Gauran, my lord?
_Pro._ Yes.—And you, sir, I think are the gentleman that begged to go
aboard the fleet to get clear of the earthquake. What did I tell you?
_Se^{o.}_ You did not tell me, my lord, that Cæsar ordered you to be
shipwrecked. (_Epicharis serves Pro. with wine._)
_Pro._ Well, ’twas his doing: I’ll bear no blame of it. Three days ago
it was Cæsar’s intention to go to Greece; we must therefore be ready
to meet him at Brundisium. Never had more stringent orders. Now he has
forgot all about it, and gone to Rome: and I have lost a third of the
fleet for nothing. May all the gods....
_Ep._ The fire took him to Rome.
_Se^{o.}_ The Romans, my lord, can never spare him long: their bread
depends on him.
_Pro._ Can’t that old shrimper Tigellinus feed ’em on sprats?
_Se^{o.}_ Hi, hi!
_Pro._ Well, sir!
_Se^{o.}_ I shan’t tell.
_Ep._ The wine will soothe you, my lord. (_Refilling his cup, she signs
to Senecio, who goes out._)
_Pro._ Thank you, lass.
_Ep._ Did Cæsar give the order himself?
_Pro._ Don’t talk to me. Ha, that fellow’s gone, is he? He is not one
to blab?
_Ep._ How should I know, my lord?
_Pro._ What’s his name?
_Ep._ Senecio.
_Pro._ Senecio, yes, of course: one of Nero’s intimates: and I called
Tigellinus an old shrimper: ’twould cost me my life if he heard it.
_Ep._ No man is safe. 1650
_Pro._ Nor woman either, Epicharis: guard your tongue.
_Ep._ I am a Greek, my lord.
_Pro._ What’s that to serve thee?
_Ep._ Nothing truly; and yet
I have no share in Rome’s reproach; I laugh
Rather to see my country’s conquerors
Themselves enslaved. I have no pride in Cæsar:
Let him be a madman, one day burn his city,
The next day wreck his fleet,—poison his brother,—
Murder his mother,—behead his wife,—I care not.
Let all his courtiers be curs, and he
Sing in the theatre.... In Greece a tyrant
Had little heart for singing; nay, at night
He slept not, thinking what undaunted spirits
Were lying wide-awake for torturing shame
Till they could kill him.
_Pro._ By Jove, thou hast a tongue!
_Ep._ And they that like it not may cut it out.
_Pro._ Drink with me, lass (_offers his cup_).
_Ep._ I would I were a Roman
But for one day.
_Pro._ I love thee for thy spirit.
_Ep._ Thou lov’st to hear the words thou dar’st not say.
_Pro._ Well, give me more.
_Ep._ Greek as I am, my lord,
And woman, were I now as near to Cæsar
As I am to you, I’d stab him to the heart.
_Pro._ I would not stay thee.
_Ep._ But thou wouldst not do it.
_Pro._ Bah! thou’rt a Greek to brag what thou wouldst do: 1675
I am a Roman, and would do the thing
Before I spake it.
_Ep._ Yet mightst never do it.
_Pro._ Thou know’st me not.
_Ep._ Then none knows thee, my lord.
Were there a plot among the brave in Rome,
Which they should fear to break to thee, and say
We know him not, we cannot risk to sound him,
A woman might; then should they send a woman,
Some woman that thou lov’st, to learn thy mind,
What wouldst thou say?
_Pro._ Then were it time to speak.
_Ep._ The brave in Rome have plotted: I am the woman—
Their messenger.
_Pro._ What! a conspiracy?
’Gainst Cæsar’s life?
_Ep._ They bid thee bring the navy.
_Pro._ Art thou in earnest?
_Ep._ I am a Greek, my lord;
And risk my life for Roman liberty.
_Pro._ What are their names?
_Ep._ The best in Rome.
_Pro._ Who are they?
_Ep._ In time I’ll tell their names.
_Pro._ And what the plot?
_Ep._ In three days Cæsar will be slain: ’tis asked
Of thee that thou wilt bring thy ships to Ostia,
And seize the granaries till Rome is ours.
_Pro._ What are their names?
_Ep._ With fair security
I will tell all.
_Pro._ And what security
For me?
_Ep._ Enough, my lord, even in this risk
To well content thee.
_Pro._ Tell me the chief names.
_Ep._ When I have won thee.
_Pro._ Thou hast won me: tell.
_Ep._ In good time all.
_Pro._ What would they have me do?
_Ep._ First bring the officers whose names are here (_Giving a paper_)
To meet me here to-night. Then I shall see
Who is to trust.
_Pro._ (_reading the paper_). Give me the names of those
Who sent thee.
_Ep._ In good time.
_Pro._ I would not harm thee.
_Ep._ Thou canst not.
_Pro._ See, Epicharis, I’ll help thee
Out of this mischief. Give me up the names,
And thou shalt be informer.
_Ep._ Ah, Proculus,
Play not that part; thou that so oft in secret
Hast cursed the tyrant to me; now play not
That part; it cannot serve thee: be true, Proculus,
To the nobleness within thee, that hast not only
A heart sufficient, but in face and figure
Lookest the hero: thou that mightest stand
For a statue of Brutus, and outdo the man
As nature made him: Be thou from this day
Named with the noblest; Proculus the brave,
Who turned the tide ’gainst Nero, and delivered
Romans from shame and slavery;—or wilt thou
Be Proculus the futile; Proculus,
Who aided first infamous Anicetus
To murder Agrippina, and then perceiving
Remorseful Cæsar cast out his gross tool,
Sought to win favour of the parricide,—
And vainly tried to stay the avenger’s hands,—
And sold a trustful woman whom he had loved, 1725
On the eve of liberty?
_Pro._ That day’s not come.
Look to thyself, and I will win thy safety.
To-night thou wilt set forth with me to Rome:
In two days I shall bring thee before Cæsar.
Then, if thou tell these names, thou wilt go free,
And mayst be rich. Thou canst not ’scape: be ready
In one hour hence. [_Exit._
_Ep._ Ah, wretched Roman slave,
Thy paltry spirit hath baulked me: go thy way;
Thou knowest nought: thou’rt in my power; thou too,
If I could turn aside, shouldst bleed for Clitus:
He hated thee, condemned thee, and thou deservest.
But what care I for thee? what is’t to me
That Piso be set up on Nero’s throne?
Only make void that throne, only tear out
That monster from the world. As for thee, Proculus,
I know thee and can outwit thee: I have my tale
Ready, and false Senecio for my witness.
Where is Senecio?—I have yet an hour. [_Exit._