Nero, an historical play

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Scene I. — Ante-chamber of Imperial Palace. Narcissus and Burrhus

Bur. Welcome, Narcissus ! You are then returned ! And is your health restored ?

JVar. Of body — yes ;

But not of mind. Unwillingly I went, Foreboding evil, and in this short month What changes ! — what disasters ! Claudius dead ! — Worse — murdered, as men say ; and in his place Young Nero seated : while with iron hand A

NERO. [Act I.

Stern Agrippina rules. Ah ! not in vain Was my worst presage — all I feared is come — Even quicker than I thought.

Bur. Things have gone fast

One touch, and all went like an avalanche. But Claudius brought it down upon himself By his own folly. Never was a man More mixed of qualities — half wit, half fool, Wise in his books, and ignorant of men ; A scholar and a drunkard : blundering on, Half dreaming, and half waking, through the world, He pulled his fate down by a stupid threat, To set Britannicus upon the throne. And Agrippina, startled, pushed him down The dark declivity of death.

Nar. I know :

I warned him of his danger ; but, poor man, He had forgot his threat within an hour, And nothing feared.

Bur. But she did not forget.

He might have threatened aught but this and lived ; But to touch Nero, was to touch the quick

Scene I.] NERO. 3

Of Agrippina's life — to threaten him Was fatal folly — so he paid for it.

Nar. How say you, Burrhus, what may we expect 'Neath this new order? better times or worse?

Bur. Jove knows ! — not I, nor you, nor any man. Perhaps awhile some semblance we may see Of better things — till Nero shall grow up And show his real nature. What he is, Who knows ? Not I — though one may guess the fruit Knowing the parent tree.

Nar. 'Tis said he shows

A gentle disposition. You should know, Who are his tutors, you and Seneca.

Bur. Ask Seneca, who stuffs him with wise words And moral sentences, and thinks to guide This tiger-cub with such weak threads of talk. He augurs great things from him ; as for me I keep my judgment. He is timid yet — Knows not his strength — his claws are not yet grown, And yet at times he snaps with right good will.

Nar. You have small faith in him ?

Bur. In faith, I have —

In him or any of his kith and kin.

His father was a bad and cruel man :

Violent, passionate, steeped and stained with crime ;

So were they all, the Ahenobarbi race.

As for his mother, could we hope from her

He could inherit virtue ? From each source

The strain is tainted.

Nar. Ay, the blood is bad.

Yet let us hope, since nature overleaps At times the parent, and again renews Ancestral virtues, it may breed in him The noble spirit of Germanicus.

Bur. He's too much like his father in his looks — With his red brazen hair and bull-like neck. Pray God he be not like his ancestor Of whom old Crassus said — " His head is brass, To fit his iron mouth and leaden heart."

Nar. Still let us hope — we've had enough of vice.

Bur. Hope if you will. Domitius did not hope; He only sneered when Agrippina showed This new-born son — saying, " From you and me What can be bred but ruin to the world."

Scene L] NERO. 5

Nar. And yet his first speech to the senate gave Good promise. It was moderate, just, and calm.

Bur. Bah ! that was Seneca, not Nero.

Nar. Well,

At least that phrase of his showed a good heart When a death-warrant the first time he signed, " I wish I knew not how to write my name."

Bur. But still he wrote it. Trust me he will write Or hod hereafter many a thousand more With no such qualms or phrases.

Nar. In your hands

And Seneca's I trust for better things.

Bur. I am no prophet : what I think I say ; I'll do my best to help him. For all that, He'll have his own way, and not ours — at last.

Nar. Say, Burrhus, was the death of Claudius As bad as 'tis reported ? Is it true That Agrippina at the banquet board, In presence of all guests, with baleful smile And hypocritic words, did poison him ? Did she or nature in those mushrooms hide The deadly essence ? I can scarce believe

She dared commit this crime so openly.

Bur. What did she ever shrink from to attain The end she sought? 'Twas more, yes, even more Than rumour, which is never slow to breed Large growths on trivial stems, hath yet avouched. It was a hideous crime played like a farce — A shocking farce to make the blood run cold.

Ndr. Was it so bad ?

Bur. Nothing could well be worse.

Hark ! there are footsteps. 'Tis the empress comes. This is no place for confidential talk — The walls have ears and eyes. Let us be off. I've prated now too much — beyond my wont — When I should better far have held my tongue.

[Exeunt.

Scene II. — Imperial Palace. Nero seated at a table, writing^ a copy of Catullus near him

Nero. That will not do. These lines are crabbed still.

They rattle like coarse pebbles in one's mouth. By Jupiter ! how hard it is to make

Scene II.] NERO. 7

These easy verses ! Here I sweat and toil Striving in vain to torture into shape The unbending phrases, while, with scarce a care, Catullus almost seems to breathe them forth. From off his style how easily they run ! — What grace, what elegance, what facile power ! Just as a flower grows, with its own sweet will, All bloom and odour — so his poems grow.

Enter Agrippina. Nero hides his tablets.

Agrip. What ! writing ? Nero ! what is it you write ?

Nero. Oh, nothing — nothing.

Agrip. Yes, I saw you hide

Your tablets as I entered. What is it ? Show me, dear Nero. Verses, are they not ?

Nero. They are not worth your seeing; such poor stuff.

Besides, they are not finished.

Agrip. Let me see,

And I will judge ; at least you will not find A kinder critic. Read them to me, pray.

Nero. No, do not ask me. They're not finished yet.

Agrip. Well, well, my boy, I'll not insist till then • But then you'll show them — will you not ?

Nero. Perhaps,

If ever they are straitened into shape.

Agrip. Ask Seneca to help you.

Nero. Seneca !

He never wrote a verse 'twas fit to read. His prose is fair enough : as for his verse, 'Tis bad as mine is : on my faith I think 'Tis even worse — 'tis crabbed as his face.

Agrip. Poor Seneca ! he is not beautiful — Not an Apollo, but a wise old man — An excellent old man, and, as I thought, Accomplished in his verses.

Nero. Yet he's old,

That's certain ; and he's wise, too, I suppose : But he's a bore, as all such wise men are. And for his verses, they're not worth a straw.

Agrip. And yet of all your friends I like him best Otho and Tigellinus and the rest Lead you astray. I pray you have a care Of all they counsel.

Scene II.] NERO. 9

Nero. I'll take care of them.

Leave them alone ; don't lecture.

Agrip. I have done.

You've been to the gymnasium to-day ?

Nero. Ay, for an hour ; we had such wrestling there. I threw Britannicus some dozen times. He had no chance against me.

Agrip. The poor thing —

How should he ? You are twice as strong as he. Strengthen your arms against some stronger youth.

Nero. Oh ! that was all for sport. Look ! with this arm, Had I the cestus on, one blow of mine Would give him his quietus. But I fought With one young Dacian, training for the ring, And floored him once ; and all the crowd cried out, " Hail, Caesar ! a good blow ! good blow, by Jove ! " And Crespius, the old gladiator, there Cried out, " By Jove ! he would be one of us Were he not Caesar."

Agrip. Then what did you do ?

Nero. I gave an hour to music.

NERO.

[Act I.

Agrip. After that ?

Nero. A tedious discourse from Seneca On metaph)Tsics and philosophy. He bored me well with all his moral drone.

Agrip. Give heed to all his teaching. That at least Is worth your learning — better far than all The music — (that's for girls more than for men), Or all the fighting — that's for pugilists Rather than Caesars.

Nero. 'Tis far better sport

Than playing Caesar ; wearying out one's life With tiresome business, audiences dull, Signing of warrants — all that sort of thing. Sometimes I wish 1 were not Caesar, then Life would be free to do just what I chose.

Agrip. Well, leave to me all tasks that I can do. Please yourself, Nero — I will bear your load.

Nero. Thanks, mother.

Agrip. Yet be careful what you do.

Amuse yourself, but play no foolish pranks To sink you in the world's esteem. Be firm, Devote your hours to study, seek to win

Scene II.] NERO. I

By noble conduct the applause of Rome. So shall you firmly sit upon your throne. Go not with low companions ; wear not out In foul debauch your manhood ; keep a rein On all you do and say, and leave to me The manage of the court. All I will do As I have ever done, dear boy, for you.

Nero. Oh yes ! yes ! yes ! I'll leave that all to you ; But there you are again, preaching again. Nothing I hate like that. Manage the court, Manage all public things. Your hand is sure, And none could do it better.

Agrip. My dear son,

It is a mother's joy and pride to serve The child she loves. Oh what a day it was When, with a shout that seemed to rend the air, The army hailed you Csesar ! My poor heart Shook like the standards straining to the breeze With that great cheer of triumph. All my toil Then seemed as nothing. I had won the prize. Yes, in that moment's thrill of wild, sharp joy, I was repaid for all ; and had I died

"Act I.

There on the spot, I should have felt my life

Full, satisfied, brimmed up to overflow

With joy and triumph. One such hour as that

Outweighs long years of common life — repays

The struggle and the toil that gendered it ;

And all the past pain lying dark behind,

Shows like night's background for the lightning flash

Of one keen vivid joy to blaze against.

" Hail, Caesar ! Hail ! " I seem to hear that shout

Still ringing in my ears : oft in dead night

It startles me from sleep, and in my dreams

Again it thrills me ; and again I stride

With you beside me through these sounding halls,

And feel — 'Tis ours now ! wholly yours and mine.

Ah ! when I clasped you then within my arms

I felt that life, whatever it might bring,

Could never lift me up again so high.

Never ! No, never ! For my heart was full ;

It could not hold one other smallest drop.

Embrace me, Nero ! — Caesar ! my grand boy !

Swear you will love me always — ne'er forget

That 'twas my hand, my will, that placed you here—

Scene IL] NERO. 13

My foot that trampled down all obstacles — My heart on which you mounted to the throne. Love me ; I ask no more. That pays for all/

Nero. Be calmer, mother. I shall not forget.

Agrip. Promise me, Nero !

Nero. Ay ; I promise you.

Agrip. That's my dear boy ! Embrace me once again !

Oh, Nero ! Nero ! what were all the world Should you desert me ?

Nero. Do you fear me, then,

That with such passion you invoke my love ?

Agrip. Ah, yes ! I fear — I fear; who would not fear, When all one's life is thrown upon one stake, That, lost, would bring disaster, ruin, death ? For there are evil tongues to slander me ; Others will strive to win from me your love — Seek to distort your mind, bewray your thoughts, And prompt you to rebel against this heart That only beats for you. Oh, listen not' To their base promptings ! Close your ears against Their foul suggestions. If they say with crime

NERO.

[Act I.

I stained my hands to place you on the throne, Remember 'twas for you alone I wrought ; For what had I to gain by any move — What was there more for me ? I stood as high As woman could. If ever in my soul Ambition gnawed, is was to lift you up. Oh, ever keep this present in your mind ! Promise me, Xero.

Nero. Ay, I will — I will.

I know the debt I owe you. There's no need To insist so strongly. Chase your fears away.

Agrip. I will. Forgive me if I seem to make Too close a claim. I will not keep you more. Where go you now ?

Nero. To Otho.

Agrip. Steel your heart

Against Poppaea's charms. What do you there ?

Nero. We sing and play.

Agrip. Does she sing well ? I hear

Her voice is weak, and she has little skill.

Nero. Who says so ? 'Twas some idiot told you that.

.Scene II.] NERO. 1 5

Her voice is charming. No one here in Rome . . Sings half so well.

Agrip. Indeed !

Nero. Her voice weak ! Ah !

It must have been Octavia told you that.

Agrip. Octavia ? No !

Nero. Who was it ?

Agrip. On my word

I cannot say.

Nero. It must have been some fool

Who knows not how to sing ; or else, perhaps, Some jealous woman. Why do women speak Such slanders of each other ?

Agrip. Who can tell ?

Nero. Farewell, my mother. Have I leave to go ?

Agrip. Farewell, dear Nero ! Go, enjoy yourself, But fall not captive to Poppsea's charms.

Nero. No fear of that. Farewell !

[Exit Nero.

Agrip. Ah, well ! Ah, well !

Can any one on earth be quite content ? Why should I thus torment myself with fears ?

\6

NERO.

[Act I.

All things seem smooth at last. But still I fear ; Though nothing tangible— no real thing Now seems to threaten. I'll not think of it. What if Poppsea win him, and with wiles Possess his spirit, and then strive to mount Upon my bended neck into my place ? Nonsense ! She would not dare. Let her but try. Who's there ? Ah ! Seneca !

Sen.

Seneca enters.

Salve, my liege !

Agrip. I know your news ! The Senate means to send A formal deputation to commend Our Caesar for his policy of state, And for his wise and liberal government. Is't not so, Seneca ?

Sen. Madame, it is.

Since Nero mounted to the throne, the change From the loose conduct of the previous time To firm and steady guidance shows so clear, The Senate seek to mark it by some sign

Scene II] NERO. 1 7

Of outward approbation. To this end,

A deputation of grave senators —

Men of high note and birth — will wait on him,

To vouch their joy at this most grateful change.

Agrip. When do they come ?

Sen. To-morrow, at high

noon.

Agrip. Is Caesar ready to receive them then ? Has he his speech prepared?

Sen. Madame, he has.

Agrip. And have you read it ? — Is it well advised ?

Sen. I have with strictest care gone over it, Added suggestions, changes ; in its form Somewhat arranged it, till to me it seems Most fitting — if he only keeps to it.

Agrip. Be sure he does. I, too, will counsel him. Have you the draft of it ?

Sen. 'Tis in my room.

Agrip. See that you send it to me then to-day.

Sen. Madame, I will.

Agrip. All seems to promise well.

If Nero will but keep a steady rein B

On all his conduct, he may live to be The greatest of our Caesars. Look to it, My Seneca, I trust so much to you. He yet is young and plastic, and I think We two may mould him to a noble form.

Sen. Madame, I strive to fill his mind with thoughts Fit for his station, and to fire his soul With high ambitions. He is young as yet, And sometimes strains against the leash, but still Not more than any youth ; nor you, nor I Would wish to see his youthful fire stamped out. To you he yields the reins, and 'tis your hand Has given firmness to his government. Happy the youth with such a hand to guide.

Agrip. So, then, the Senate is indeed content ? That pleases me. How feels the populace ?

Sen. Nero has won their perfect confidence By his kind manners and his gracious acts. They all throw up their caps with joyous shouts, Whene'er they see him • and with such frank grace, Such modest bearing, their applause he takes, He wins new favour from them every day.

Scene II] NERO. 1 9

In every street, in every public square, In every group, you hear with one assent The praise of Cassar, and rejoicings bold That Claudius reigns no more. If, at the first, Whispers were heard, and dubious faces seen, That is gone by. The weight of doubt and fear Seems lifted from the State, and hope sits light In every heart, as if a darkening cloud Had passed, and sunshine settled over Rome.

Agrip. This glads my heart ; and yet, the populace Is ever fickle, veering like a vane To every varying current in the air. How is the army ? That the anchor is Unto the ship of state. If that is firm, All things are firm.

Sen. They, too, rejoice in him.

His strength, — his practice of athletic arts, — His easy manners, — his light-hearted whims, — All please the soldiers. When old Claudius went, Half dreaming, with abstracted look, slow walk, And awkward presence, through the camp, a smile, Not over-flattering, ever followed him ;

But when our Nero, with his sunny hair, Strong as a Hercules, with sinewy arms, Quick gait, and laughing voice, among them goes, Saluting this one with a jest, and this With artful praise ; and trying now and then Like some strong boy, rejoicing in his strength, The wrestler's grip, to test which is the best, The whole camp follows him, and shout on shout Makes the air ring. Yes ! he has won them all.

Agrip. He lacks in dignity : it is his wont Over familiar with all men to be. That pays at first, perhaps, but fails at last. Men laugh at first with one who treats them thus ; Then lose respect ; and end with open jeer. He should be cautious not to overstep The limits of his rank. Kind courtesy Is ever winning, till it pass beyond The bounds of self-respect and dignity. I would not have him formal, stern, and stiff, Nor yet too free and liberal of himself. We must expect to take just as we give. Weak condescension often tends to breed

Scene II.] NERO. 21

Presumption, licence, and destroys respect. Counsel him, Seneca, to alter this.

Sen. It is his nature, and thus far it works To win him friends. He slowly can withdraw If need there be.

Agrip. Let him not go too far.

Does this please Burrhus ? He's a soldier rough, And knows the army. Let him drop a hint, And Nero will take heed, perhaps, of him, More than of you and me, in such a case.

Sen. Madame, I'll speak with him.

Agrip. I pray you, do.

I would not in the freshness of his reign, Even on the threshold, he should miss a step. We, then, must keep him straight in outward forms ; And as for weightier things, my hand meanwhile Shall hold the helm of State and steer for him.

NERO.

Scene III. — Hall in Palace. Tigellinus and Gladiators

Tigel. Try not your strength too rudely, if you place A value on your lives. You two are here To try a fall with him. Fall underneath !

\st Glad. I shall, my lord.

Tigel. But strain him to his best ;

Yield not too lightly, or 'twill anger him ; He knows your strength.

ist Glad. I understand, my lord.

Tigel. (to 2d Glad.) And you, forget not that you drive him hard.

Put him to all he knows — to his last fence. But — silence ! — there he comes.

Nero enters.

Nero. Salve, good friends !

Both. Salve, great Csesar !

Nero. Let me see your arm.

What thews ! — what muscle ! — why, 'tis hard as steel !

Scene III.] NERO. 23

Mine, too, look, 'tis as large almost as yours.

1st Glad. 5Tis a strong arm — it needs but exercise To make it serve the very best of us. Mine was not half so firm when I was young. Nero. Well ! shall we try a bout ? 1st Glad. If you command.

[They wrestle. After a time Nero throws the Gladiator.

Tigel. Bravo ! my Caesar ! 'twas well thrown, by

Jove !

Nero. You did not do your best ! 1st Glad. I did, my lord.

You were too quick for me at that last turn. You're younger ; but I think the second time You would not catch me thus.

Nero. Try it again.

[They wrestle again— Nero is thrown. Tigel. Your foot slipped, Csesar ! Nero. Ay ! this cursed floor !

'Twas not a fair fall. Try it once again.

[They wrestle again. Nero throws the Gladiator heavily.

NERO.

[Act I.

i st Glad. 'Twas a rough fall. I will not try again. You are too young — too quick ; I'm not your match.

Nero. Well ; let us breathe a little, and meantime Get the swords ready.

2d Glad. They are here, my lord.

Nero. What say you, Tigellinus ? This man here I just have thrown, is of the first force, they say ; Are you not, friend ?

ist Glad. Ten prizes have I gained

In the arena.

Nero. Ten ?

ist Glad. Ay, Caesar, ten !

Nero. Do you hear, Tigellinus ?

Tigel. Caesar, ay !

The ten were not like you on whom he gained His victories.

Nero. What do you mean ? You think,

Because I'm Caesar, that he put not out His strength against me.

Tigel. Nay, I meant not that.

But neck and shoulders, Caesar, like to yours One does not daily meet. You are more lithe :

Scene III] NERO. 25

Your muscles come to play more readily. If he is stronger, you are quicker far.

1st Glad. That's it — he is too quick for me by far ! Now, in sheer strength, I think I am the best ! — I ought to be, trained for these many years ; But Caesar has a sudden knack, a trick, That in an instant sets at naught my strength. Nero. You flatter.

1st Glad. Nay, I flatter not. I feel

That fall still in my back — 'twas a rough fall.

Nero (throws him a purse of gold). Cure it with that,

my friend. 1st Glad. Thanks, Caesar, thanks !

Nero. Now for the swords — I'm breathed enough — the swords !

[Swords are brought and measured. 2d Glad. Shall we stand thus ?

Nero. Ay ! Are you ready ?

Now !

\They fight — Nero touches his adversary. Nero. A touch !

Tigel. Stop !

2d Glad. I confess it — on my arm.

Nero. That's one ! In guard — so !

There's another touch.

2d Glad. Csesar, you strike too hard for play.

Tigel. Why, look !

The blood is oozing from your shoulder, there.

2d Glad. Had Caesar's sword been steel instead of wood, I had not fought another round this month.

Nero. I did not mean to strike so hard. Indeed, I'm sorry if I hurt you.

2d Glad. Oh, 'tis naught !

Yet had the sword been steel, and had we stood On the arena's sand, that blow of yours Had done my business thoroughly enough. I should have heard that sudden yell and jeer From all the circle of wild eager mouths, Descending on me like a curse. That's all ! Thank heaven ! the swords are wood, and we are two.

Nero. Here, staunch his blood — and here's my hand, my friend !

And when your shoulder's mended come again.

Scene III.] N.E R O. 27

Meantime, this purse : and {to attendant) set them in

some room A supper ; let them have good meat and wine — Wine of the best, as much as they will drink. May you enjoy it, friends ! and now farewell! 1st and 2d Glad. Salve, great Ctesar ! Nero. If you have a

• want Caesar can satisfy — ask — it is yours. {To attendant.) See, if these men come, they have audience Upon the instant — at whatever time. Come, Tigellinus ! So again farewell !

\Exeimt Tigellinus and Nero. 1st Glad. A great boy !

2d Glad. For a boy, he hits hard blows.

I like it not.

1st Glad. He paid you well. 2d Glad. He did.

And still I rather would strike back again Than have his money. When I feel the sting Of a sharp blow, my blood thrills till I strike

With all my might. But here one's hands are tied. Had he not been the Caesar !

i st Glad. Ay, my friend,

I understand ; but still his gold rings well. Hark to it (throws it up) : that's a jingle worth a blow.

2d Glad. Bah! for the blow itself, who cares for that! Come ! shall we trudge ? — our business here is done.

[Exeunt.

Scene IV. — Nero's room. Sexeca and Nero

Nero. Stand by me, Seneca. My mother's hand Hath won for me the throne. I owe her all, And yet she spies upon me over much, And lectures me as if I were a child. Give me your counsel. Shall I bend to her, Or shall I brave her ?

Sen. You are Caesar now.

Your mother only seeks your good ; but yet,

Scene IV.] NERO. 29

Being a mother, sees, the last of all, Her son has grown a man. Yet bear with her ; Though she outstrain her guidance — bear with her. 'Tis these first months will make or mar your reign : Look that you stumble not. Her hand is sure. Lean much on her.

Nero. What shall I do, good friend ?

You are a man, and know what men expect.

Sen. Be moderate and courteous in your acts ; Shun cruelty and rapine ; wear a face Of kindness to the Plebs ; abstain from blood ; Rein up your passions ; and do no man hurt : So shall you win full favour from the world That spies you closely now in these first days. And for the rest — though you are young and stirred By fiery passions — as youth ever is — Still strive to curb them within certain bounds. Excess is evil. Yet I would not preach Too great restriction. We are young but once. Be firm and wary in your public acts ; And for your private pleasures, so they keep Within due limit, you may yield to them.

Nero. Little I care for public acts of state So I my private freedom may possess ; Yet these my mother strictly would restrain, And irks me with her thraldom. She it is That forced my marriage with 0 eta via. Why ? Reasons of state require it — so she says. Am I a slave, then, that I must obey ? Or am I Caesar ?

Sen. None can stand so high

That duty stands not higher. Caesar himself, Would he preserve his power, must also bear His load of duty.

Nero. So, in faith, it seems :

Csesar is but a slave like other men.

Sen. Absolute freedom none on earth can know Beside, what is this burden you lament ? — That you have won and wed a noble bride, Pure, good, and innocent, and of lineage high.

Nero. Good — innocent — and pure — yes, she is that : So is a cold, white, water-blooded fish. Her smile gives me a chill. She says, " I love," Just as a sign-post says, "Seven miles to Rome.''"

Scene IV.] NERO. 3 1

I have to rinse my mouth after her kiss, Or think of Acte just to sweeten it. Oh Acte ! that's another sort of fruit, As like her as a turnip to a peach. 'Tis all my mother's doings, Seneca ; I would rebel against her, did I dare.

Sen. Acte is beautiful. Yet have a care. Keep out of sight your love. 'Twere worse for all — You, Acte, me — ay, every one of us — If once the empress dreamed we sought to thwart Her firm-fixed purpose. If you will indulge Your love for Acte, do it in the dark.