Octavia: Act IV

NurseWhy dost thou from thy husband's chamber come,Dear child, with hurried step and troubled face?Why dost thou seek a lonely place to weep?For surely has the day we long have soughtWith prayers and promised victims come at last.Thou hast thy Caesar, firmly joined to theeBy ties of marriage, whom thy beauty won,Whom Venus gave to thee in bonds of love,Though Seneca despised and flouted her.How beautiful, upon the banquet couchReclining in the palace, didst thou seem!The senate viewed thy beauty in amazeWhen thou didst offer incense to the gods,And sprinkle wine upon the sacred shrines,Thy head the while with gauzy purple veiled.And close beside thee was thy lord himself;Amid the favoring plaudits of the crowdHe walked majestic, in his look and mienProclaiming all his pride and joy in thee.So did the noble Peleus lead his brideEmerging from the ocean's snowy foam,Whose wedding feast the heavenly gods adorned,With equal joy the sea divinities.What sudden cause has clouded o'er thy face?Tell me, what mean thy pallor and thy tears!

Poppaea: Dear nurse, this night I had a dreadful dream;And even now, as I remember it,My mind is troubled and my senses fail.For when the joyful day had sunk to rest,And in the darkened sky the stars appeared,I lay asleep within my Nero's arms.But that sweet sleep I could not long enjoy;For suddenly a grieving crowd appearedTo throng my chamber--Roman matrons they,With hair disheveled and loud cries of woe.Then 'midst the oft-repeated, strident blastsOf trumpets, there appeared my husband's mother,And shook before my face with threat'ning mienA bloody torch. Compelled by present fear,I followed her; when suddenly the earthSeemed rent asunder to its lowest depths.Headlong to these I plunged, and even thereIn wonder I beheld my wedding couch,Whereon I sank in utter weariness.Then with a throng of followers I sawMy son and former husband drawing near.Straightway Crispinus hastened to my arms,And on my lips his eager kisses fell:When suddenly within that chamber burstMy lord the king with frantic, hurrying steps,And plunged his sword into that other's throat.A mighty terror siezed me, and at lastIt roused me from my sleep. I started upWith trembling limbs and wildly beating heart.Long was I speechless from that haunting fear,Until thy fond affection gave me tongue.Why do the ghosts of hades threaten me?Or why did I behold my husband's blood?

Nurse: All things which occupy the waking mind,Some subtle power, swift working, weaves againInto our web of dreams. Small wonder then,Thy sleeping thoughts were filled with marriage bedsAnd husbands, when thy newly mated lordHeld thee in his embrace. Does it seem strangeThat thou shouldst dream tonight of sounds of woe,Of breasts hard beaten and of streaming hair?Octavia's departure did they mournWithin her brother's and her father's house.The torch which thou didst follow, borne aloftBy Agrippina's hand, is but a signThat hate shall win for thee a mighty name.Thy marriage couch, in realms infernal seen,Portends a lasting state of wedded joy.Since in Crispinus' neck the sword was sheathed,Believe that no more wars thy lord shall wage,But hide his sword within the breast of peace.Take heart again, recall thy joys, I pray,Throw off thy fears, and to thy couch return.

Poppaea: Nay, rather will I seek the sacred shrines,And there make sacrifice unto the gods,That they avert these threats of night and sleep,And turn my terrors all upon my foes.Do thou pray for me and the gods imploreThat in this happy state I may endure.

Chorus [of Roman women in sympathy with Poppaea]:If babbling rumor's tales of Jove,His secret joys in mortal love,Are true, he once, in plumage dressed,Was to the lovely Leda pressed;And as a savage bull he boreEuropa from her native shore:But should he once thy form, Poppaea, see,He would leave his shining stars to dwell with thee.For thou than Leda many foldArt fairer, or that maid of oldWhom Jove embraced in showers of gold.Let Sparta boast her lovely dame,Who, as his prize, to Paris came:Though Helen's beauty drove the world to arms,She still must yield to our Poppaea's charms.But who comes here with hurried step and wild?What tidings bears he in his heaving breast?

Messenger: Whoever guards our noble prince's house,Let him defend it from the people's rage.Behold, the prefects lead their men in haste,To save the city from the furious mobWhose reckless passion grows, unchecked by fear.Chorus: What is the madness that inflames their hearts?

Messenger: The people for their loved OctaviaAre wild with rage and grief; and now in throngsAre rushing forth in mood for any deed.Chorus: What are they bent to do, or with what plan?

Messenger: To give Octavia back her father's house,Her brother's bed, and her due share of empire.

Chorus: But these Poppaea holds as Nero's wife.

Messenger: 'Tis even she 'gainst whom the people's rageBurns most persistent, and to reckless deedsIs driven headlong on. Whate'er they see,Of noble marble wrought, or gleaming bronze,The hated image of Poppaea's face,They cast it to the earth with wanton handsAnd crushing bars. The shattered parts they dragAlong the streets, and with insulting heelDeep in the filthy mud they trample them.These savage deeds are mingled with such wordsAs I should fear to utter in your ears.Soon will they hedge the royal house with flames,Unless the prince his new-made wife give upTo sate the people's wrath, and then restoreTo noble Claudia her father's house.That he himself may know these threatened deeds,I'll haste to tell him as the prefect bade.

Chorus: Why vainly strive against the powers above?For Cupid's weapons are invincible.Your puny fires by those fierce flames he'll dimBy which he oft has quenched the bolts of Jove,And brought the Thunderer captive from the sky.For this offense you shall dire forfeit pay,E'en with your blood; for hot of wrath is he,And may not be o'ercome. At his commandDid fierce Achilles strike the peaceful lyre;He forced the Greeks and Agamemnon proudTo do his will. Illustrious cities, too,And Priam's realm he utterly destroyed.And now my mind in fear awaits to seeWhat Cupid's cruel penalties will be.