Nero

SCENE.--_The tiring chamber of_ POPPAEA--_signs of luxury, implements of a Roman lady's toilet of the period_. POPPAEA _reclining, with a single maid_.

Poppaea. Myrrha, more gold upon these builded curls. How often, child?

Myrrha. Mistress, forgive me.

[_A slave has entered._

Poppaea. Well?

SLAVE. Mistress, the Emperor's minister, Tigellinus.

[POPPAEA _signs_ MYRRHA _to go_.

_Enter_ TIGELLINUS

Tigellinus. Lady, I am loth to interrupt this toil, But come on a secret errand.

Poppaea. Well, what is it?

Tigellinus. Long have I watched you, and to me it seemed You had some mighty wish within your soul As yet unspoken? Ah, I know it well. You would climb high, even to the very height?

Poppaea. [_Rising._] I would.

Tigellinus. You would be--mistress of the world?

Poppaea. Ah!

Tigellinus. And shall be: we aim at the same goal. You from ambition, I from policy.

Poppaea. Speak clearer.

Tigellinus. 'Tis our wish to free young Nero From Agrippina's dangerous dominance-- To free him of her quite. Now she too stands In your own path. Your loveliness may work Upon him: and we with policy the while-- Will you make cause with us?

Poppaea. I understand. You need this beauty as an added bait To lure when policy can drive him not. What do I gain at last?

Tigellinus. The throne itself. Octavia is a shadow: cannot stand Between you and the world: but Agrippina, Never will suffer you while she has breath.

Poppaea. I will not tempt him to a mother's murder.

Tigellinus. Nor do we ask it: only that you draw His wandering fancy from her with a sweet Interposition of this loveliness, Free him of her, then bind him to yourself.

Poppaea. I will attempt it. I will fly at it. I go to him to Baiae this same day.

Tigellinus. Remember all the earth is in thy reach.

[_Exit_ TIGELLINUS.

POPPAEA _claps her hands--enter various maids_

Poppaea. Lorilla, see, this henna is o'erdone.

LORILLA. O pardon, mistress.

Poppaea. And you, Lalage, My lips more brilliant.

LALAGE. Yet----

Poppaea. Remember, child, That I walk ever veiled: what in the sun Glares, being veiled a finer richness takes And more provokes: how many struggling flies This veil, the web of mine, hath struggling held Which else were freed!

[_Gazing at her face in mirror._

Ah! this left eyebrow--who? Who painted this?

Maid. [_Trembling._] I, madam.

Poppaea. You are young: Else I would have you stripped and lashed till blood Flew from you.

Maid. Mercy!

Poppaea. Call old Lydia. Lydia, this eyebrow--the old touch.

LYDIA. My hands Tremble, but I'll essay.

Poppaea. [_Gazing in mirror._] So--that is well. Children, when there shall come, and come there must, The smallest marring wrinkle on this face, And come there must--our bodies fall like flowers, This face shall feel the ruin of the rose-- When time, howe'er light, shall touch this cheek, Then quick farewell! Listen, I will not live Less lovely, nor this cruel beauty lose, And I perforce grow kind: I'll not survive The deep delicious poison of a smile Nor mortal music of the sighing bosom That slowly overcomes the fainting brain. It shall not dawdle downward to the grave; I'll pass upon the instant of perfection. No woman shall behold Poppaea fade: And now to Baiae!

Myrrha. Thence the Emperor Hath sent three messengers already.

Poppaea. Ah! Blue Baiae, warm beside a sparkling sea Where I will win young Nero--and the world!

_Enter_ OTHO _hastily_

Otho. The Emperor hath sent three messengers Demanding you for Baiae: yet am I Not asked: what means this lonely summons, wife?

Poppaea. Can you not trust me?

Otho. When I gaze on you, 'Yes'--when your voice is murmuring at my ear, 'Yes'--but at times when I am pressed by crowds Or yearn alone beside the breaking wave----

Poppaea. Will you not trust me? Why then do I go? Is't for myself? You know well--'tis for you; To praise the Emperor's verses--but for you; To applaud his feeblest gesture--but for you; To coax from him a kingdom--but for you! Yet are you angered.

Otho. 'Tis a perilous game. Nero may ask more of your loveliness.

Poppaea. A woman may surrender inch by inch Even to the edge of shame: then sudden rise Unmelting ice.

Otho. Poppaea, I like it not.

Poppaea. All is for you.

_Enter an_ OFFICER _with_ ATTENDANTS

Officer. Sir, from the Emperor. Thus Caesar saith: 'Hereby do we decree Otho, our bosom's friend, sole governor Of Lusitania: with imperial leave Whom to appoint, dismiss: all revenues In his control: thither let him proceed To-morrow ere sunset.'

Otho. [_Looking at_ POPPAEA, _then turning to_ OFFICER.] I shall obey.

[_Exit_ OFFICER _and_ OTHERS.

Dismiss the slaves.

Poppaea. Otho, I swear----

Otho. Dismiss them.

Poppaea. Myrrha, stay by me! On my knees I swear----

Otho. Stand up! You knew this?

Poppaea. Dear, I never could----

Otho. [_Taking her by the arm._] You go to Baiae into Caesar's arms. I am--promoted--to the ends of the earth, Anywhere, anywhere, so I be not there To interrupt.

[_He throws her from him--snatches his dagger._

Poppaea. Kill me then if you will. Here--here! I will not flinch, so I die true. You'll not suspect my corpse.

Otho. It has been planned, Thought out, and timed--for in his deepest plot Our Nero has an eye for drama still. He hath imagined that which now we act.

Poppaea. Kill me--I love you! Ere you strike, one kiss.

Otho. Ah! [_Recoiling._]

Poppaea. But one kiss--a kiss of olden days, When we two were most happy: Caesar was not, And you had laughed at him! A harp-player, But not my man, my Otho! Think you I Who have had these arms about me, and these lips Burn up my own, could languish for a mime? I am a child--I have done wrong--forgive it-- I sighed for thy advancement--speak to me! Now slap my hands or send me to my bed, I am a baby in these deep affairs.

Otho. Go not to Baiae then: depart with me To Lusitania; words I'll count no more, But deeds--to Lusitania, come with me.

Poppaea. Is it wise to disobey--is it wise, I ask? Set me aside, be mindful of yourself.

Otho. So you'll not come?

Poppaea. For you alone I linger. I'll tarry but a little while behind you, And when I come, I'll greet you full of riches.

Otho. I dread to leave you in your loveliness.

Poppaea. Then I'll not go with you.

Otho. You will not--Why?

Poppaea. Because you will not trust me. Show to me That you can trust me, Otho; and what joy, What satisfaction can you have to drag Your wife behind you, from dull jealousy Because you do not dare leave her behind For fear--I'll not be such a wife.

Otho. Poppaea, No more I'll ask you to depart with me, I'll go alone: but this remember still-- Gay have I been, a spendthrift and an idler, A brilliant fly that buzzed about the bloom. But I had that in me deep down, and still, Of which you, you alone, possess the key, A sullen nobleness to you disclosed E'en then with shame: and by no other guessed. This you well know: betray not that at least; For even the lightest woman here is scared, And dreads to dabble deeper in the soul. We have no children.

Poppaea. [_Coming to him and putting up her face._] Am I not child enough Who should be woman? You shall kiss these lips Once ere you go--so close they are to you.

Otho. The gods laugh out at me--but I must kiss you.

Poppaea. Can I not help your preparation?

Otho. No. I shall not go with pomp; but as a soldier.

Poppaea. I think you are still angry?

Otho. No! Farewell, I have brief time.

Poppaea. Ah! take me with you, then.

Otho. What! You will come?

Poppaea. I wish--I wish 'twere wise. My love shall bear your litter all the way.

[_Exit_ OTHO _hastily_.

_Re-enter_ MAID

Maid. Has he gone, lady? Had I such a man I could not let him part thus, not for Caesar.

Poppaea. For Caesar! No: but Caesar means the world! For Baiae! The new gold-dust!

Maid. Here, I have it.

Poppaea. Bear it yourself--entrust it to no other.

[_Exeunt_.