Seleucus.

The seasons, lady, Of divination are determinate By stars and special omens: ’tis our skill To observe their presage. The hour is favourable. Thy dream ...

Pop. Is’t good?

Sel. Beyond thy hope.

Pop. Then tell it.

Sel. Two thousand sesterces....

Pop. I have it here. See! I was ready for thee. [Gives him a purse.

Sel. I thank thee, lady.

Pop. Now for thy message.

Sel. I have sought out thy dream By every means our art....

Pop. Mind not the means.

Sel. There is one interpretation clear throughout....

Pop. And that?

Sel. Thou shalt be wife unto two Cæsars.

Pop. Two! Now be Isis praised. Two! O, Seleucus, Thou’rt an astrologer. Two! this is life, Seleucus; this is life as well as fortune. What are the names?

Sel. There ends my message, lady.

Pop. ’Tis good so far, but stays unkindly. Search, I must know more. Above all things, the affair Is secret. (Knocking heard.) I will send my servant to thee. Thou must be gone: our business will not suffer My husband stumbling on thee here. This way.

[Exit Seleucus, being put out.

My dream was true: my hopes and schemes inspired Of heaven; yet this is far beyond them all. Wife to two Cæsars; maybe, mother of Cæsars.

[Noise at door.

To sit upon their rare, successive thrones, A manifold Augusta! Here’s my husband. What would he say? Two Cæsars, ay, two Cæsars!

[Laughing heard without.

Enter Otho.