Seneca.

Cæsar, I ask A private interview.

Ner. ’Tis private here: This is my privy-council.

Vat. Rome’s triumvirate. Ha, ha! we rule the world! (Tableau.) (Gesturing.) Come, trust thy secret In Cæsar’s ear, my lord.

Se^{o.} (aside to Sce.). Let us make up To Seneca by going out.

Sen. As Cæsar wills.

Sce. (to Nero). Cæsar’s august permission! We are not stoics.

Ner. I understand you, sir: You may withdraw.

Sce., Se^{o.} and Qu. Our humble thanks.

[Exeunt, bowing separately to Nero and Seneca.

Ner. Now we are private.

Sen. If your majesty Will lend me attention, I will put my business Shortly.

Ner. I shall not interrupt.

Vat. Nor I; Unless I snore. (Sits.)

Sen. ’Tis fourteen years, Cæsar, since I was first Chosen your guide; and for eight years and more You have governed the empire not without my aid. Through all w^h time your kindness hath heaped ón me So many dignities and so much wealth, That nothing wants to my felicity Save some curtailment of it.—I can allege Precedents for my conduct: the divine Augustus, Who was your great-great-grandfather, permitted Marcus Agrippa to withdraw himself To Mitylenè and a private life: Mæcenas too he let abide in Rome, As in a foreign country, at his ease;— Whereof the one had served in all his wars, The other toiled at home; and each grown rich With presents answerable to their high deserts. As for myself, what I have done to merit Your prodigal favour,—being but a student, A teacher, a philosopher,—I say not: But being enriched, it comforteth my mind ’Twas not for me to strive against your gifts. Both of us, sire, have filled our measure, you In giving all a prince should give a friend, I taking what a friend might from a prince. But now, sire, in my journey of life grown old, The business of my riches burdens me. And ’tis by envy augmented; which if you Be set above the sting of, yet ’tis known What curse to peace it is. Wherefore I pray, Let me retire. I crave your helping hand To ease me of my wealth: that I restore Whence first I had it, to yourself: receive it, I pray you, as your own. You, in your flower, May serve your generation, and permit Your old friends to betake themselves to rest. ’Twill be your praise, sire, to have enriched such men As could live happy in a mean estate.

Tig. (half aside). There’s something behind this.

Ner. (to Tig.). Silence, I bid!

(To Sen.) If, Seneca, I am able out of hand To meet thy long premeditated speech With equal answer, that I owe to thee, And thine instruction.—First thou didst allege Mæcenas and Agrippa: but from them Divine Augustus took not back their wealth; Which if they won in danger, yet I doubt not Thy weapons and thy hand would not have wanted Had I had need of them. But what I needed That gavest thou; such reason and good counsel As shall abide with me while my life lasteth. Those goods material, which thou hadst of me, Are liable to perish; and I am shamed That thou, who art the first in my affection, Art not first also in wealth:—nay, there be slaves Own more than thou:—and for thine age, I know Thou’rt lusty for thy years, and able well To enjoy thy wealth and its commodities. Keep thy rewards still, and still do us service: If slipperiness of youth be overprone To what it should not, thou mayst draw us back; And our unseemly and unruly zeal Temper with kind advice. Harked I to thee, ’Tis not thy moderation we should hear of, Nay, nor thy ease, shouldst thou forsake our service: Rather my covetousness and thy fear Would be in all men’s mouths. ’Twould ill beseem Such a philosopher as thou, at cost Of thy friend’s infamy to win thy comfort.

Tig. Hear, hear! ’Tis well said, Cæsar!

Vat. Admirable! But somewhat senecal.

Ner. Embrace me, Seneca. Let us be friends.

Vat. Ye gods! I shall be jealous. Me too, my lord.

Sen. If, Cæsar, in this embrace Power kissed philosophy, ’twere well with both.

Ner. I have my own philosophy to kiss; Be thou content with thine.

Sen. Nay, the wise man Is so convinced of truth, he seeks to impart it.

Ner. I would impart my wisdom unto thee.

(A Messenger enters and speaks to Tigellinus, who goes out with him.)

Sen. Alas! all schools alike spew out your doctrines, Zeno or Epicurus.

Ner. That is because You all agree to teach what none believes, That pain and misery and death are nothing, But goodness all-sufficient. Tell me, Seneca, Can a good man be happy on the rack?

Vat. Not if the rack be good.

Sen. Such questions, Cæsar, Have their fit time and place. I came to offer My wealth and counsel both; you refuse both, And let your fool mock me.—Knows he not whom Ill manners hurt, that thus he wounds his master?

Ner. And better have no manners than be made, As thou, of manners only. Thou affectest Insensibility; thy pompous maxims Of wordy wisdom thou wouldst pass for strong Because they are harsh, generous because inflated. Thy rhetoric is like a mouldy cake; I have eaten to loathing of it: I would no more.

Sen. Look for no more. That speech delivers you. Whether my words are false and empty bubbles There’s nought to show, but ’twill appear the day When life must answer for it:—The condition, Cæsar, I accept, and do not fear the judgment.

[Bows to Nero and exit.

Re-enter Tigellinus excitedly.

Tig. My house is burning, Cæsar!

Ner. Well! if it be? By all the gods, vex me not now.

Tig. My house!

Ner. And what’s thy house, curse it? when half the city Was burned to the ground, wert thou not cool? why now Fume for thy house?

Tig. Cæsar, the Vatican!

Ner. The Vatican!

Tig. You may see it from the windows.

Ner. (going to window). Then Rome will all be burned.

Tig. (aside). And by thy foes. When the wínd was in the south, they fired the south: Now it hath changed, they fire the north.

Ner. (returning). ’Tis true. I can do nó móre: it must búrn.

Tig. What, sire, To tell the captains? May they use discretion To pull down?

Ner. Bid them change the wind, man: bid them Snow from the south. Wóod must búrn; when ’tis burnt, I will rebuild in stone. Go: tell them that! Go, sir! Stay: hark! Have supper laid to-night On the palace roof, music beneath, and ladders Outside for the attendance. [Exit Tig. and Vat. If Rome must burn, Well, let me see it. (Goes to window.)

Enter Poppæa.