_A room in the palace. Enter Tigellinus._
_TIGELLINUS._
Rufus, my rival, is condemned to die:
The city troops are mine: I am secure:
Cæsar I hold by flattery, Rome by force.
Sophronius Tigellinus of Agrigentum!
Of Agrigentum,—well done! be content.
Thou hast the second place in all the world,
And rulest the first; while of thine envious foes,
Sulla, Plautus, and Piso, all three are dead: 2450
A few remain: but on the Spaniard Seneca
Shall the Sicilian eagle swoop to-night,
As on a flying hare. Poppæa, in this
My keen ally, hunts with me eagerly.
_Enter Nero and Poppæa._
Hail, mighty Cæsar! fairest Augusta, hail! (_They salute._)
The assassin hath not hurt thy spirits?
_NERO._
Fear not,
I have dined.
_Tig._ Dined well, I pray the gods.
_Ner._ Superbly.—
We sent to speak with thee of Seneca;
What should be done.
_Tig._ What hath been done already?
_Ner._ Hark, I will tell thee. I sent a letter to him,
Pressing the information of Natalis;—
‘Why, if thou knewest of this plot’—I said—
‘Didst not thou warn me? And if thou knewest not,
What was thy reason why thou didst refuse
Audience to Piso, alleging that such meetings
Were good for neither; adding also, _I hold
Thy life needful for mine_?’ Now I await
His answer.
_Tig._ The tribune is returned.
_Ner._ Impossible;
Seneca is in Campania.
_Tig._ Nay, your majesty;
He is in the suburbs: he returned to-day,
Trusting his wit before his innocence.
_Ner._ Go, fetch the tribune in. [_Exit Tigellinus._
_POPPÆA._
Why dally thus?
_Ner._ I dally not: I go the shortest way
To find if he be guilty.
_Pop._ Stick you at that?
_Ner._ Romans are free. There is no man can be touched 2475
On an unproven charge.
_Pop._ Are you not Cæsar?
_Ner._ Cæsar administers the law, while it
Can minister to him.
_Re-enter Tigellinus._
_Tig._ Here is his answer written.
_Ner._ Read it us, Tigellinus.
_Tig._ If I can ...
The letters are so pinched and shaky ... it needs
The scholarship of Cæsar.
_Ner._ Give it to me.
(_Reads._) ‘To Cæsar, Lucius Annæus Seneca
Greeting ... In answer to thy message; first
’Tis true that once Natalis came to me
From Piso, and begged that I would visit him:
And I excused myself on plea of sickness,
And need of quiet: As to the words imputed,
However I may prize thy safety, Cæsar,
I have no cause to set a private person’s
Above my own; nor do I stoop to flattery,
As well thou knowest; nor to such shallow arts
As would hide treason in a salutation.’
_Tig._ Is that the sum?
_Ner._ ’Tis all. He is not guilty.
_Tig._ Not guilty!
_Ner._ Nay.
_Pop._ Why, he confesses it.
_Ner._ I know the man: his mind is here at ease.
The style is pithy and careless. When he has aught
To excuse, he is wordy.
_Tig._ He was wordy enough
In the matter of Agrippina, true.
_Ner._ Well, sir!
_Pop._ And in the matter of Britannicus.
_Ner._ Why raise these matters now? 2500
_Tig._ These are the matters
That Seneca harps on: while he lives they live.
_Pop._ These are the deeds Epicharis charged against thee.
_Tig._ This was the root of Flavus’ hate.
_Pop._ ’Tis this
The people mean, who whisper when I pass,
‘Octavia, Octavia.’
_Tig._ And he now persuades
Half Rome ’twas not himself who did these things,
But thou ... which thou, permitting him to live,
Indorsest with thy name; dost set, I say,
The imperial warrant on the black account:
As orphans sign away their patrimony
To scheming uncles; as unwitting pupils
To crafty tutors fall a prey.
_Ner._ One lesson
He taught me perfectly, that is to hate him.
_Pop._ Thy hate and love go by half measures, Nero.
_Tig._ ’Twere pretty, Cæsar, wert thou a private person,
To play the philosopher upon the man
Who led thee astray—albeit to sacrifice
Thy wife and friend,—if he who saved thy life
May style himself thy friend ...
_Ner._ Yes, friend; thou savedst
My life to-day.
_Tig._ And yet saved not, if thou 2520
Wilt throw it straight away, and with thy saviour’s.
_Ner._ Stay, I am resolved: I will not vex you further:
I yield. I know there is no man in the world,
Nor ever was, but hath his flaw: In some
’Tis a foul blot, that in the eye of nature
Stands out unpardonable and unredeemed
By all the school of virtues, howsoe’er
They dance in grace around it: In another
’Tis like a beauty-mark, a starry mole
Which on a virgin’s body but sets off 2530
The dazzling flesh, that else were self-extinguished
In its own fairness.—Yet by these flecks and flaws,
Whate’er they be, ’tis fated that men fall:
And thus may I, nay must; unless in time
I heed good warning, for my fault is gross.
I am over-generous; yes; ye say it; I know it.
That is my flaw. It is because my schemes
Are wider than his own, that Seneca hates me:
Because the world hath tasted more of freedom
Under my rule than under any Cæsar
Who went before—and that can no man question—
It is for this my throne hath more been envied,
And by more plots and treacheries besieged,
Than ever others were: and when I saw
(My safety and the people’s good being one)
I must make holocaust of private feelings
To that which helped the whole, then ’twas for that
The bungling crowd condemned me, & where I looked
For gratitude to be my consolation,
I met reproach. ’Twas Seneca, ye say, 2550
Who did those things. ’Tis true those deeds were his
In reason and connivence; but in the act,
Doing and suffering they were mine, and are.
Yet now, if he withdraw his countenance,
Condemn, wear vulgar horror on his face,
And turn men’s hearts against me, what could move
My anger more if I were vain or cruel?
No. Have your will;—and if I hinder not,
He cannot blame me; since I do but play
Seneca to your Cæsar.
_Tig._ I thank thee, sire.
He dies to-night; or shall we wait to have him
Compose the palliation?
_Ner._ Jest not; ’tis done. [_Exit Tig._
_Pop._ You have talked too long, Nero; come in & rest.
_Ner._ He was my tutor once, and once I loved him.
_Pop._ You might have done it with a nod.
_Ner._ He is old:
I rob him not of much. The end of life
Is tedious, I believe. Come back, Poppæa;
And while we are in our prime, let us be merry
And thank the gods. [_Exeunt._