_Bur._ Then, for one question I’ll be appeased. I know you, Seneca, For a man of many parts, a scholar, poet, Lawyer, and politician, what you will; 2760 A courtier too besides, a man of business, A money-maker; in short, a man of the world, That like a ship lifting to every wave, Heeling to every blast, makes good her way And leaves no track. Now what I ask is this: How ride so lightly with the times, and yet Be the unbending stoic, the philosopher, The rock, I say, that planted in the deep Moves not a hair, but sees the buffeting breakers Boil and withdraw? Which is the matter, Seneca? Nay, ’tis a pertinent and friendly question— 2771 I’ll take your answer as we go along. [_Exeunt Burrus and Seneca._ _Re-enter Fulvia._ _Ful._ Of all delights I think that liberty Is the prime element: nothing is pleasant Joined with a must. Why, even this journey hither That has so cheered my mistress, all the talk Of sky and fields and trees, tired me to death. I’m sick of servitude, with ’time for this’ And ’time for that’: I’d give my ears for freedom; [_She sits in Agrippina’s chair._ To have my servants, and say—Prithee, Fulvia, What is o’clock?—Fetch me the little kerchief I left upon my bed—Come, Fulvia, quick; 2782 I want you—Fulvia, go, order my litter— Fulvia, be gone; we’ve business—Fulvia, stay, Amuse me for a while.—I would to heaven I were in Rome again! (_Shouts heard._) Hey, what a noise! Cheering my lady! here’s a change indeed. Well, I shan’t lose by that. Gods, how they cheer! She might have taken me with her. I know well I shan’t see the outside of these villa walls 2790 Till bound for home. And here no visitors, At least for me. Cheer on, my lads! and yet If I should get the chance I’d like to see These famous Neapolitans: I’m told They’re wondrous saucy, and ingenious singers. What’s that? a boat! my lady! gracious heavens! [_A boat rows up to quay._ My lady, O my lady, what’s the matter? _Enter Agrippina up from the quay, clothes dripping; the boat remains._ _Agr._ An accident, and I am escaped by swimming: Yet thou must know, Fulvia, ’twas a contrivance To take my life—the kindness was all hollow— A dastardly contrivance: ’twas the ship 2801 Seleucus spoke of. Look, I am hurt in the shoulder, Yet ’tis not much. _Ful._ Alack, alack, my lady! _Agr._ I am cold and faint. I must at once go shift These dripping habits. When I am rested somewhat Thou shalt hear all: meanwhile, call in the sailors Who rowed me hither: get from them whate’er They saw or know, and promise a reward Worthy of my deliverance. [_Going._