Chapter L: Act IV

_Nurse_
[_to_ Poppaea, _who appears, distraught, coming out of her chamber_]:
Why dost thou from thy husband's chamber come, 690
Dear child, with hurried step and troubled face?
Why dost thou seek a lonely place to weep?
For surely has the day we long have sought
With prayers and promised victims come at last.
Thou hast thy Caesar, firmly joined to thee
By ties of marriage, whom thy beauty won, 695
Whom Venus gave to thee in bonds of love,
Though Seneca despised and flouted her.
How beautiful, upon the banquet couch
Reclining in the palace, didst thou seem!
The senate viewed thy beauty in amaze
When thou didst offer incense to the gods, 700
And sprinkle wine upon the sacred shrines,
Thy head the while with gauzy purple veiled.
And close beside thee was thy lord himself;
Amid the favoring plaudits of the crowd
He walked majestic, in his look and mien
Proclaiming all his pride and joy in thee. 705
So did the noble Peleus lead his bride
Emerging from the ocean's snowy foam,
Whose wedding feast the heavenly gods adorned,
With equal joy the sea divinities.
What sudden cause has clouded o'er thy face? 710
Tell me, what mean thy pallor and thy tears!

_Poppaea:_ Dear nurse, this night I had a dreadful dream;
And even now, as I remember it,
My mind is troubled and my senses fail.
For when the joyful day had sunk to rest,
And in the darkened sky the stars appeared, 715
I lay asleep within my Nero's arms.
But that sweet sleep I could not long enjoy;
For suddenly a grieving crowd appeared
To throng my chamber--Roman matrons they,
With hair disheveled and loud cries of woe. 720
Then 'midst the oft-repeated, strident blasts
Of trumpets, there appeared my husband's mother,
And shook before my face with threat'ning mien
A bloody torch. Compelled by present fear,
I followed her; when suddenly the earth 725
Seemed rent asunder to its lowest depths.
Headlong to these I plunged, and even there
In wonder I beheld my wedding couch,
Whereon I sank in utter weariness.
Then with a throng of followers I saw
My son and former husband drawing near.
Straightway Crispinus hastened to my arms, 730
And on my lips his eager kisses fell:
When suddenly within that chamber burst
My lord the king with frantic, hurrying steps,
And plunged his sword into that other's throat.
A mighty terror siezed me, and at last
It roused me from my sleep. I started up
With trembling limbs and wildly beating heart. 735
Long was I speechless from that haunting fear,
Until thy fond affection gave me tongue.
Why do the ghosts of hades threaten me?
Or why did I behold my husband's blood?

_Nurse:_ All things which occupy the waking[57] mind, 740
Some subtle power, swift working, weaves again
Into our web of dreams. Small wonder then,
Thy sleeping thoughts were filled with marriage beds
And husbands, when thy newly mated lord
Held thee in his embrace. Does it seem strange
That thou shouldst dream tonight of sounds of woe, 745
Of breasts hard beaten and of streaming hair?
Octavia's departure did they mourn
Within her brother's and her father's house.
The torch which thou didst follow, borne aloft
By Agrippina's hand, is but a sign
That hate shall win for thee a mighty name.
Thy marriage couch, in realms infernal seen, 750
Portends a lasting state of wedded joy.
Since in Crispinus' neck the sword was sheathed,
Believe that no more wars thy lord shall wage,
But hide his sword within the breast of peace.
Take heart again, recall thy joys, I pray,
Throw off thy fears, and to thy couch return. 755

_Poppaea:_ Nay, rather will I seek the sacred shrines,
And there make sacrifice unto the gods,
That they avert these threats of night and sleep,
And turn my terrors all upon my foes.
Do thou pray for me and the gods implore 760
That in this happy state I may endure.

[_Exeunt_ Poppaea _and_ Nurse.]

_Chorus_ [_of Roman women in sympathy with_ Poppaea]:
If babbling rumor's tales of Jove,
His secret joys in mortal love,
Are true, he once, in plumage dressed,
Was to the lovely Leda pressed; 765
And as a savage bull he bore
Europa from her native shore:
But should he once thy form, Poppaea, see,
He would leave his shining stars to dwell with thee.
For thou than Leda many fold 770
Art fairer, or that maid of old
Whom Jove embraced in showers of gold.
Let Sparta boast her lovely dame,
Who, as his prize, to Paris came:
Though Helen's beauty drove the world to arms, 775
She still must yield to our Poppaea's charms.
[_Enter_ Messenger.]
But who comes here with hurried step and wild?
What tidings bears he in his heaving breast?

_Messenger:_ Whoever guards our noble prince's house, 780
Let him defend it from the people's rage.
Behold, the prefects lead their men in haste,
To save the city from the furious mob
Whose reckless passion grows, unchecked by fear.

_Chorus:_ What is the madness that inflames their hearts? 785

_Messenger:_ The people for their loved Octavia
Are wild with rage and grief; and now in throngs
Are rushing forth in mood for any deed.

_Chorus:_ What are they bent to do, or with what plan?

_Messenger:_ To give Octavia back her father's house,
Her brother's bed, and her due share of empire. 790

_Chorus:_ But these Poppaea holds as Nero's wife.

_Messenger:_ 'Tis even she 'gainst whom the people's rage
Burns most persistent, and to reckless deeds
Is driven headlong on. Whate'er they see,
Of noble marble wrought, or gleaming bronze,
The hated image of Poppaea's face, 795
They cast it to the earth with wanton hands
And crushing bars. The shattered parts they drag
Along the streets, and with insulting heel
Deep in the filthy mud they trample them.
These savage deeds are mingled with such words
As I should fear to utter in your ears. 800
Soon will they hedge the royal house with flames,
Unless the prince his new-made wife give up
To sate the people's wrath, and then restore
To noble Claudia her father's house.
That he himself may know these threatened deeds,
I'll haste to tell him as the prefect bade. 805

[_Exit._]

_Chorus:_ Why vainly strive against the powers above?
For Cupid's weapons are invincible.
Your puny fires by those fierce flames he'll dim
By which he oft has quenched the bolts of Jove,
And brought the Thunderer captive from the sky. 810
For this offense you shall dire forfeit pay,
E'en with your blood; for hot of wrath is he,
And may not be o'ercome. At his command
Did fierce Achilles strike the peaceful lyre;
He forced the Greeks and Agamemnon proud 815
To do his will. Illustrious cities, too,
And Priam's realm he utterly destroyed.
And now my mind in fear awaits to see
What Cupid's cruel penalties will be.

FOOTNOTES:

[57] Reading, _intentus_.