_Pop._ Nay; thine oath is vain Upon the point of honour. There are things Idle and ceremonial, and that count In love as nought, but which alone can make Divorce from Otho honourable, nay, To me, I say, possible. Till the day Octavia is divorced I am Otho’s wife, Ay, and am well content to be: he loves me, And lacks in nothing that a gentlema. 1970 And lover should observe. I sometimes think That you mistake... _Ner._ Ah! _Pop._ But to mistake in that! Seem to forget! I fly. _Ner._ O most impatient! I have yet no pretext. _Pop._ Nay, nor ever will. Besides, your mother rules: she would not suffer it. I have no desire to taste her dishes. _Ner._ Hush! They come. _Enter through the door Petronius, Tigellinus and Anicetus._ Where be the others? _TIGELLINUS._ They have taken Cæsar’s gracious permission, and gone home. ’Tis late. _Ner._ Why, who art thou to say ’tis late? Be seated, be seated. I’ll tell thee, Anicetus, 1980 More of my scheme anon; but for the present We keep Minerva’s feast at Baiæ; thither Must thou convey the court. Combine high pomp With masterly dispatch; our games shall reach The limit of invention, and ourselves Take part. To thee I say, come not behind. _ANICETUS._ Grant me the means to be great Cæsar’s herald, I’ll make a wonder that shall fetch the nymphs From their blue depths in ravishment to see His ships upon the waters. 1990 _Ner._ I shall be liberal, And give thee full instruction. (_To Pop._) Think, my love, What could be pleasanter, now spring is come, Than to confide our vexed and careful spirits To nature’s flush; to leave our memories With the din and smoke of Rome, and force a pageant Upon the lazy mirror of the bay,— One to make Venus jealous, and confound The richness of the season. Thou dost not guess What I can do. Say, would’st thou miss the seeing Of my magnificence? 2000 _Enter Paris._ _Pop._ See, here is Paris. _Ner._ He comes to make us merry. The gods defend us! He has seen a ghost. _Pop._ He has something to deliver. _Ner._ Patience! I know his mood: he will be tragic; And you shall see the severe and tearful muse Outstride her dignity, and fall along. (_To Paris_) Begin! _PARIS._ Most mighty and most honoured Cæsar, I cannot speak for shame. _Petr._ Why, man, thou’st spoken. _Ner._ He opens well.