Paullina.

Seneca, Seneca! The Circus Maximus is burned; the fire Hath reached the embankment—Ah, they have told you?

Sen. Nay: What didst thou say?

Pau. The fire, my lord, the fire. The Circus is burned down, and the Velabrum Is now a field of flame, that waves in the wind. Rome will be burned.

Sen. A general calamity Might turn attention from me.

Pau. My lord, you are strange.

Sen. Paullina, it matters not to me or thee If the whole world should burn: a little while And all is nought. There have been here this morning The heads of a conspiracy.

Pau. A conspiracy!

Sen. To murder Nero.

Pau. Indeed I wonder not.

Sen. But who is the man, thinkst thou, whom they would take To set up in his place; who, if they fail, Must fall a sacrifice? Who least desires The crown? Who least deserves the death? ’Tis he.

Pau. Not thee! ah, ah, my lord, not thee!

Sen. Take comfort, Be brave, Paullina; check thy tears: there is hope; There is yet a hope. I shall renounce my wealth, Place my possessions all in Cæsar’s hands, And stripped to naked, harmless poverty Fly Rome and power for ever: such a life I have praised and well may lead—philosophy Graced by the rich graceth the poor, and I, Who have sought to crown her, may be crown’d by her. I’ll save my life’s last remnant with applause. Weep not, there’s hope: yes, there is yet a hope.