_Agr._ ’Tis Nero, Fulvia, he who seemed but late So kind and dutiful: ’twas all hollowness, Part of the plot, to bring me here alone, Away from friends: ay, and perceive this too, To lay my death to charge of an accident, And hide, maybe, even my dead body, drowned And lost in the depths of the sea. Now, being alone, I shall need thee to aid me. _Ful._ Dearest madam, 2911 What can I do? _Agr._ Thou must be faithful to me Whatever happens. Hearken, I said ’twas Nero Had done this: ’tis not so; my real enemy, The mover, is Poppæa. I blame not Nero: I bade him to discard her: he was driven To choose between us: she hath carried it. But being escaped, and she not here, I yet Can right myself with him. ’Tis not too late; Nay, I can amply trust those broad affections, 2920 Which ’twixt a mother and her son remain At bottom, spite of all. Ay, they remain. The common knowledge of this guilty attempt Will clear the way: and when I show the path, He will be glad to escape. I have writ a letter, Which, if he read, will work. ’Tis pure submission. Remember, we must ever speak of this But as an accident. Here is the letter; Send Agerinus with it straight to Cæsar; Of all my servants he’s the one must bear it: 2930 Nero has known him from a child, will trust him; Nay, he hath rid so oft upon his shoulders That he is half a brother, half a father. Send him at once: I have bidden him await: He should be here. _Ful._ Alas, this is a day Of sorrow indeed. I pray Minerva guard Her feast from ill. [_Exit with letter._ _Agr._ Indeed I have little fear, If he but read. Yet now, after this warning, I must beware. ’Tis plain the people love me; 2939 They cheered me so. My escape will add to favour. _Ful._ (_re-entering_). He waited at the gate, and with full speed Runs with the letter. _Agr._ Come; one business Must now be not neglected; there’s poor Polla. Bring pens and ink and wax: we will seal up All her effects, and make an inventory In proper form, and do whate’er we may While we have time. Let us go see to it. [_Exeunt._ SCENE · 2 _A room in Nero’s villa. A table with papers. Enter NERO, SENECA, BURRUS, and TIGELLINUS._ _NERO._ We have an hour: sit down, my lords, we’ll hold A privy council. I have in my mind a matter Touching the subsidies. _BURRUS._ The day is good 2950 For market matters, ’tis Minerva’s peace: The sword is sheathed. _Ner._ (_to Servants_). Set light upon the table. _SENECA._