Burrus.

The truth is, madam, we come At Nero’s order.

Agr. Ha! then I strike you off [Rising. My list of friends again. I thought as much; I wondered how you dared me this affront In my last poor retreat, here where I sit Alone and friendless, in the worst disgrace Woman can suffer;—ay, and caused by you. But learn that, if nought else, this house is mine; If ’tis so small that it can welcome little, It can exclude the more. At Cæsar’s order Ye have forgot your manners, now at mine Resume them. Ye have done his hest, begone! Begone!

Sen. I pray you, madam, hear the message; We may not leave without delivering it. Burrus will speak it.

Agr. Oh—Burrus speak it. If Burrus speak, the affair is mighty black. There’s none like him to break an ugly business.

[Sitting.

Hey! Well, we have nought to do, so let us hear The last of the court. Octavia’s divorce?

Sen. Believe me, lady, I feel much aggrieved In all that hurts you here.

Agr. Stranger than fiction. Now what’s the matter?

Bur. There has been information To Cæsar of plots against his life, the which The informers charge on you. This the chief item, That you have entered with Rubellius Plautus Into conspiracy to set him up In Nero’s place, and to dethrone your son. I come with Seneca and these witnesses To hear the answer, which your majesty No doubt hath very ready, and accordingly To acquit you of the charge.

Agr. —Excellent! Now, Seneca, ’s thy turn; or will these gentlemen? Fulvia, we have depositions to be made: Fetch pens and paper; all shall be in order.

Sen. Madam, remember on what past occasions Cæsar hath shown suspicion, and believe, Whate’er your innocency, there is cause To make it clear.

Agr. Thy prudence, Seneca, Is vanity, not kindness; spare it, pray. Here is your paper, gentlemen: I’ll give you Matter for Cæsar’s reading. Tell me first Who’s my accuser?

Bur. There are two—the first Junia Silana, the other is your sister Domitia: they bring forth as evidence The informers, certain freedmen, Atimetus, Iturius, and Calvisius, who affirm That you have lately been on terms with Plautus, Stirring him up to make an enterprise Against the state; that you, by marrying him (Who by the mother’s side may claim a line As rightly from Augustus as doth Nero), Might reinstate yourself, dethrone your son, And bring disaster to the commonwealth. That is the charge, of which we are come to hear The refutation, not to press the count.

Agr. Pah! You’re a brace of idiots, if ye think This needs refuting. Who’s Silana, pray, That if she speak, the very bonds of nature And heaven must be repealed to give her credit, Saying a mother plots to kill her son? I marvel not that she, being childless, dares Avouch such madness, never having known How near the affections of all mothers are, Nor that a mother cannot shift her love Like an adulteress;—nay, nor do I wonder That she should find among her freedmen those, Who, having in luxury spent all their substance, Will for the promise of the old lady’s purse Sustain the accusation: but that for this I should be seriously held suspect Of the infamy of parricide, or Cæsar Of giving ear to it, this I marvel at. As for Domitia, I would thank my sister Even for her jealousy, were but the strife One of good will and kindness towards my Nero. But now she wastes her time with her man Paris, Composing as ’twere fables for the stage. Let her go back to Baiæ and her fishpools; They kept her trifling spirit well employed, When by my efforts Nero’s first adoption, Proconsular authority, consulate, And other steps to empire were procured. Are ye now answered?— Or is there any can be brought to show That I have practised with the city cohorts, Corrupted the loyalty of the provinces, Solicited the freedmen to rebellion? Or to what purpose think ye? Had Britannicus Been Cæsar, then I grant I might have lived; But if ’tis Plautus, or whoever else Should get the power, how should I lack accusers To charge me, not with words escaped in passion, But deeds and crimes—crimes—ay, Seneca, crimes, Of which I could not hope to be acquitted Save as a mother by her son? And ye Think I shall here defend myself to you! Send Cæsar to me. By the gods I swear I’ll be revenged on all who have had a hand In this most cowardly and senseless plot. I wait him here: tell him that to none other Will I resolve this matter.

Bur. Be content To say so much in form, that our report Suffice for your acquittal.

Agr. I bid you go.

Bur. Cæsar shall hear your message.

Sen. Madam, we go.

Agr. Ay, go, good fellows; though ye have roused my passion, 2380 Your coming here hath cheered me wondrously. Nay, if ye have ever such another matter, Bring it again; be not abashed, but come; Or send your wives, and those two gentlemen, Whose names I know not. My lords, your humble servant.

[Exeunt Burrus and Seneca and two Gentlemen.

Plautus! now is it possible I was wrong Not to have thought of Plautus? No, I laugh, ’Tis merely laughable. At forty-five To marry a pretender; and Plautus too! He would not have me. Fulvia, do you think That Plautus wants to marry me? Ha! ha! Is it my beauty, think you, or my virtue, Or my good fortune tempts the stoic? Oh, Domitia, oh, you are dull. I cannot fear This plot. We shall retire with more than honour. ’Twas strange, I think, that Pallas was not struck; His name escaped.

Ful. There is ample reason, madam. They say that in his house he holds such caution As not to speak before his slaves. His orders Are given by nod and sign, or if there’s need He writes: there’s none can say they have heard him speak.

Agr. May good come of it. ’Twould be hard indeed If they should exile Plautus for a fear Lest I should marry him. That were a fate Of irony. Why, give the man his choice Of marrying me and exile, would he not Fly to the pole? Poor Plautus! marry Plautus!

Both. Ha! ha! ha! he! he!

Enter Nero. Agrippina is seated.