Poetical Works of Robert Bridges, Volume 3Bridges, Robert
General
Poetical Works of Robert Bridges, Volume 3
Bridges, Robert
English drama; English poetry
_Ful._ Thank you, my men. I pray she’s none the worse.
_Sail._ ’Tis bitter cold, indeed. But I can tell
She’s of good stuff; ay, and can swim.
_Ful._ Be sure
You are fortunate to have done her this good service.
_Sail._ I make my humble duties. [_Exit._
_Ful._ Alas, alas!
What can this mystery mean? I die to hear. 2860
I must now go attend her; ah! here she comes.
_Enter Agrippina._
_Agr._ Fetch me some wine and a warm coverlet;
The fur one from my bed.
_Ful._ Ay, madam, quickly. [_Exit._
_Agr._ I have no friend here but her and the few servants
Upon the place: ’tis plotted well indeed
To catch me thus alone: Mistress Poppæa
Is seen in this. Yet being escaped, I think
I yet will prove her match.
_Re-enter Fulvia._
Ah, thank you, so.
_Ful._ Are you recovered, madam, from the shock?
_Agr._ I am warm again. I think too that my hurt
Is very little: but I am somewhat shaken. 2871
_Ful._ What is it that hath happed? The sailors knew
Nothing but that they found you.
_Agr._ Did they see
Nothing?
_Ful._ They saw the galley lurch, and say
The Admiral must know.
_Agr._ ’Tis likely enough
’Twas his contrivance. Now I’ll tell thee all,
Fulvia, and thou must help me all thou canst
When thou hast heard: indeed I tell thee partly
To clear my judgment.—We had rowed about a mile,
Polla and I, and sat upon the poop, 2880
Taking our pleasure, when, all on a sudden,
Darkness; the awning fell, with such a crash
As took away my spirits, and Polla and I
Were thrown down from our couches by the weight
Of falling cloth and spars: one heavy beam
Grazed my left shoulder, and we lay crushed down
Upon the deck. Then I heard Polla laugh,
Finding we were not hurt, and she crept forth
Forward, beneath the curtains; the oars stopped:
I heard a rush of feet, and presently 2890
Came Polla’s voice, ’Hold, slay me not, ye villains,
I am Agrippina.’ Then, ’Ah me, I am slain!’
And one long deathly groan. This, when I heard,
Taught me my part, and towards the other side,
Crawling, I came to the window o’er the stern,
Where lay my only escape; and silently,
Feet foremost, I crept out, and by the ladder
Slipped down without a sound into the sea.
The galley still held way, and in few strokes
I saw that I was left and unperceived; 2900
And so swam on until the fishermen
Hailed me by name, and took me in their boat.
_Ful._ Who can have laid this plot to kill you, madam?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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