Sailor.

We are not fit, my lady. By thy leave, We are poor fishermen.

Ful. Come, fellows, come. Which is the captain?

Sail. Me, so please thee, lady.

Ful. Ye have brought the empress safe, and for that service Shall have a good reward. But, tell me now, How came she in your boat?

Sail. ’Twas thus, my lady. It being the feast, we smartened up the boat And pulled her close along the shore, to find A party of landsmen, such as love to visit Misenum, or be rowed across the bay To Pausilypum, lady, and Virgil’s villa. When, as we lay, the Augusta’s galley passed, Not half a cable’s length, and then we cheered, And after took no note of her, till Gripus, He cries, Look! see the galley. And there she was Laid on her beam-ends in the offing. Ho! We cried, and gave the alarm, and led the chase To reach her first: when presently she righted, Steadied, and trimmed her oars, and drew away. While we were wondering and talking of it I spied a something floating, and again Putting about, saw ’twas a swimmer’s head. Four other boats with ours made for it too; But we gave way with a will and held our own, And coming alongside, found ’twas the Augusta. I reached her out an oar, and I and my mate Lifted her in handsomely. Then she bad us Straight row her hither. She’s a most brave lady, Ay, and can swim.

Ful. Know you no more?

Sail. No, lady. We looked, but saw naught else, not even a spar. The Augusta told us there was none but she.

Ful. What was the reason why the galley heeled?

Sail. I cannot tell.

Ful. What could it be?

Sail. D’ye see, My lady, ’tis the Admiral’s boat, this galley. It’s not for me....

Ful. There’s not a breath of wind.

Sail. The mischief was aboard.

Ful. You know no more?

Sail. Nothing, my lady.

Ful. Then begone; to-morrow Come for your recompense. I know not yet The Augusta’s pleasure.

The Sailors. Thank thee, thank thee, my lady.

[Exeunt Sailors.

Ful. ’Tis plain the men know nothing.

Sailor (returning). Please thee, lady, If not too bold, we’ll ask thee if the Augusta Has taken harm from being so long in the water.

Ful. Thank you, my men. I pray she’s none the worse.

Sail. ’Tis bitter cold, indeed. But I can tell She’s of good stuff; ay, and can swim.

Ful. Be sure You are fortunate to have done her this good service.

Sail. I make my humble duties. [Exit.

Ful. Alas, alas! What can this mystery mean? I die to hear. I must now go attend her; ah! here she comes.

Enter Agrippina.

Agr. Fetch me some wine and a warm coverlet; The fur one from my bed.

Ful. Ay, madam, quickly. [Exit.

Agr. I have no friend here but her and the few servants Upon the place: ’tis plotted well indeed To catch me thus alone: Mistress Poppæa Is seen in this. Yet being escaped, I think I yet will prove her match.

Re-enter Fulvia.

Ah, thank you, so.

Ful. Are you recovered, madam, from the shock?

Agr. I am warm again. I think too that my hurt Is very little: but I am somewhat shaken.

Ful. What is it that hath happed? The sailors knew Nothing but that they found you.

Agr. Did they see Nothing?

Ful. They saw the galley lurch, and say The Admiral must know.

Agr. ’Tis likely enough ’Twas his contrivance. Now I’ll tell thee all, Fulvia, and thou must help me all thou canst When thou hast heard: indeed I tell thee partly To clear my judgment.—We had rowed about a mile, Polla and I, and sat upon the poop, Taking our pleasure, when, all on a sudden, Darkness; the awning fell, with such a crash As took away my spirits, and Polla and I Were thrown down from our couches by the weight Of falling cloth and spars: one heavy beam Grazed my left shoulder, and we lay crushed down Upon the deck. Then I heard Polla laugh, Finding we were not hurt, and she crept forth Forward, beneath the curtains; the oars stopped: I heard a rush of feet, and presently Came Polla’s voice, ’Hold, slay me not, ye villains, I am Agrippina.’ Then, ’Ah me, I am slain!’ And one long deathly groan. This, when I heard, Taught me my part, and towards the other side, Crawling, I came to the window o’er the stern, Where lay my only escape; and silently, Feet foremost, I crept out, and by the ladder Slipped down without a sound into the sea. The galley still held way, and in few strokes I saw that I was left and unperceived; And so swam on until the fishermen Hailed me by name, and took me in their boat.

Ful. Who can have laid this plot to kill you, madam?

Agr. ’Tis Nero, Fulvia, he who seemed but late So kind and dutiful: ’twas all hollowness, Part of the plot, to bring me here alone, Away from friends: ay, and perceive this too, To lay my death to charge of an accident, And hide, maybe, even my dead body, drowned And lost in the depths of the sea. Now, being alone, I shall need thee to aid me.

Ful. Dearest madam, What can I do?

Agr. Thou must be faithful to me Whatever happens. Hearken, I said ’twas Nero Had done this: ’tis not so; my real enemy, The mover, is Poppæa. I blame not Nero: I bade him to discard her: he was driven To choose between us: she hath carried it. But being escaped, and she not here, I yet Can right myself with him. ’Tis not too late; Nay, I can amply trust those broad affections, Which ’twixt a mother and her son remain At bottom, spite of all. Ay, they remain. The common knowledge of this guilty attempt Will clear the way: and when I show the path, He will be glad to escape. I have writ a letter, Which, if he read, will work. ’Tis pure submission. Remember, we must ever speak of this But as an accident. Here is the letter; Send Agerinus with it straight to Cæsar; Of all my servants he’s the one must bear it: Nero has known him from a child, will trust him; Nay, he hath rid so oft upon his shoulders That he is half a brother, half a father. Send him at once: I have bidden him await: He should be here.

Ful. Alas, this is a day Of sorrow indeed. I pray Minerva guard Her feast from ill. [Exit with letter.

Agr. Indeed I have little fear, If he but read. Yet now, after this warning, I must beware. ’Tis plain the people love me; They cheered me so. My escape will add to favour.

Ful. (re-entering). He waited at the gate, and with full speed Runs with the letter.

Agr. Come; one business Must now be not neglected; there’s poor Polla. Bring pens and ink and wax: we will seal up All her effects, and make an inventory In proper form, and do whate’er we may While we have time. Let us go see to it. [Exeunt.