ACT III.

AGRIPPINA. [593-645]
AGRIPPINA appears from the infernal regions, a cruel soothsayer carrying before her the fatal torches, at the nuptials of Poppaea, and Nero whose death she predicts. - (Shade of Agrippina speaks.)

THE Earth being opened, I have found my way out of Tartarus, bringing in my unrelenting hand, the Stygian torches to grace this wicked marriage. It is with these torches, Poppaea shall be joined in marriage to my son, which the avenging hand, and indignation of an outraged mother, would rather employ for a graver occasion, his funeral pile (Nero’s). May the memory of my impious slaughter cling to me, as long as I am numbered with the shades, oppressed with the thought, as I am, that these hands of mine have gone unavenged, and the fatal craft intended for my destruction, given to me, as the reward for my services, and that dreadful night, which he has given me as the price of the Empire I gave up to him, on which I had to bewail my shipwreck - it had not been an object of my desire on my part, to have duly bewailed the deaths of my companions in misery (Creperius, Gallus and Aceronia), the results of the cruel crime of a son, but no time was afforded me, even for shedding tears - for Nero coupled his previous wickedness with another crime, and being slain by the sword, I yielded up my burdened existence, within the proximity of my venerated household gods, nor I, even then, stifled the persecuting hatred of that son of mine, with my last drops of blood - the cruel tyrant began to grow wrathful against the very name and memory of his mother, his desire was, that any claim to merit on my part should be completely effaced - he caused to be destroyed all pictured likenesses or sculptured models, and all inscriptions which represented me, on pain of death, throughout the whole world, the Empire of which I, in my foolish love, gave to him, and all this, too, that as a requital, he should eventually take away my life! But my husband Claudius, who was cruelly deprived of life, disturbs my very manes; he rushes with his torch at my face, which is hateful to him to behold, he is ubiquitous in his presence, he menaces, and imputes to me his own fate and the death of his son Britannicus, and demands to know who was the actual murderer (Nero). Spare me, Claudius, thy reproaches; he shall be given up, and I ask no long time either for it to be brought. The avenging Erinnys is preparing a condign death for such a cruel tyrant - she is making ready to inflict the stripes and pave the way for the ignominious flight, and the punishment with which a Tantalus is to quench his thirst, and for the cruel task of a Sisyphus, and the rapacious vulture of a Tityus, as well as the wheel, which whirls round rapidly the body of an Ixion! He may, indeed, erect his marble monuments, and in his pride, gild the very roofs of his palace, and the armed trained bands (cohort) may vigilantly guard the portals of their emperor and the thresholds of his palace, the very world may, through his exactions, be drained of its riches to answer to his beck and call! The Parthians in suppliant humility, may seek to salute with the kiss of submission, that sanguinary right hand of his, and Tiridates may throw his kingdom, and all the riches he possesses at the feet of Nero! But the day and hour will arrive soon on which he shall give up that criminal life of his; for the wickedness of which he has been the author, his throat shall be a very target for the javelin of the enemy, he shall be universally shunned, ruined, and reduced to absolute want! Alas! how all my labor - how my fondest wishes have turned out! Oh! thou son of mine, whither has thy madness drifted thee, and to what a fatal destination! The just anger of thy mother, who fell by thy crime, is a paltry consideration, compared with the many punishments thou wilt have to undergo! I wish, though, before I had ever brought thee into the world, as a little baby boy, and suckled thee at my breasts, that some ferocious wild beast had torn the very womb out of my body, or that thou hast died as my innocent suckling, without any knowledge of what existence was and without any crime to answer for! joined to, and still leaning on me, thou mightst always have before thy eyes a quiet resting-place in the regions below, where thou mightst see around thee, thy father, thy great grandfather and men of our lineage of glorious reputation! Before whom, alas! there remain instead only disgrace and perpetual sorrow! and all this arising out of thy crimes, and myself, who have brought such a monster into the world. But why do I stay longer, why do I cease from hiding my face in Tartarus, the cruel step-mother of a Britannicus, the wife of a murdered Claudius, and the unfortunate mother of a Nero!

OCTAVIA - CHORUS. [646-689]
Octavia, feigning sadness, prays the populace, who are espousing her cause, not to grieve about her divorce. The chorus, however, does grieve for her sad lot.

OCTAVIA.

SPARE these tears, on a day of such rejoicing and gladness to the city - let not the great affection thou hast for me, and the interest shown in my cause, rouse any feelings of bitter resentment in the heart of the Emperor, I may yet be the means of bringing great misfortunes upon thee - it is not the first time my breast has felt wounds like this - I have already put up with more grievous ones! May this day procure for me an end to my troubles, even if it be by death! There is one thing, I shall no longer be called upon to rest my eyes on the visage of my cruel husband, I shall henceforth be the sister and not the wife of an Augustus, and thus not be compelled to share the odious nuptial couch, with a rival! But I do pray, that sad mental tortures may be spared me - the apprehensions of crime and the fear of some cruel death! But! oh! miserable! oh! demented Octavia, canst thou reasonably hope for such things, mindful as thou must be of the former crimes of this detestable man, or that he, who is accustomed to spare nobody, would deal gently and mercifully with thee? For a long time hast thou been reserved for such a marriage as this (to occur before thy eyes), and at last, as a sorrowful victim thou wilt fall; but why in that confused kind of way dost thou glance back upon thy paternal household gods, with such tearful eyes? hasten away rather from under such a roof, and quit for ever the palace of the blood-thirsty Emperor.

CHOR. Behold! the day shines forth at last, so long, and so much mingled with certain misgivings, yet so often canvassed abroad as mere hearsay. Claudia has been banished from the nuptial bed of cruel Nero, and has surrendered the couch, of which the triumphant Poppaea, by this time, is the tenant in possession, whilst the affections we all felt for her, must now be put a stop to. Kept down by the terrible fear of consequences, and our indignation must be outwardly suppressed. But where is the ancient courage of the Roman populace, which often caused the most illustrious of men to fly for their lives? (Syphax, Perses, Jugurtha, Herodes) that populace which gave law and institutes to a country, which has never been conquered, and which, in ancient days, bestowed the magisterial dignities only on those who were worthy recipients - that populace decided, when there was to be war - and decided likewise when there was to be peace - they brought the turbulent nations into subjection, they confined conspiring captive kings in the prison dungeons! Behold, grievous as is the sight, on all sides, model images of Poppaea, dazzling our vision side by side with those of Nero! Let us dash to the earth with our violent hands those images which are only too like, the face of this newly created Empress! And let us drag her from her exalted couch, without delay let us, in our disgust, make for the palace of the cruel Emperor, with the fiery torch, and the sword of vengeance!