_Ner._ Superbly.— We sent to speak with thee of Seneca; What should be done. _Tig._ What hath been done already? _Ner._ Hark, I will tell thee. I sent a letter to him, Pressing the information of Natalis;— ‘Why, if thou knewest of this plot’—I said— ‘Didst not thou warn me? And if thou knewest not, What was thy reason why thou didst refuse Audience to Piso, alleging that such meetings Were good for neither; adding also, _I hold Thy life needful for mine_?’ Now I await His answer. _Tig._ The tribune is returned. _Ner._ Impossible; Seneca is in Campania. _Tig._ Nay, your majesty; He is in the suburbs: he returned to-day, Trusting his wit before his innocence. _Ner._ Go, fetch the tribune in. [_Exit Tigellinus._ _POPPÆA._ Why dally thus? _Ner._ I dally not: I go the shortest way To find if he be guilty. _Pop._ Stick you at that? _Ner._ Romans are free. There is no man can be touched 2475 On an unproven charge. _Pop._ Are you not Cæsar? _Ner._ Cæsar administers the law, while it Can minister to him. _Re-enter Tigellinus._ _Tig._ Here is his answer written. _Ner._ Read it us, Tigellinus. _Tig._ If I can ... The letters are so pinched and shaky ... it needs The scholarship of Cæsar. _Ner._ Give it to me. (_Reads._) ‘To Cæsar, Lucius Annæus Seneca Greeting ... In answer to thy message; first ’Tis true that once Natalis came to me From Piso, and begged that I would visit him: And I excused myself on plea of sickness, And need of quiet: As to the words imputed, However I may prize thy safety, Cæsar, I have no cause to set a private person’s Above my own; nor do I stoop to flattery, As well thou knowest; nor to such shallow arts As would hide treason in a salutation.’ _Tig._ Is that the sum? _Ner._ ’Tis all. He is not guilty. _Tig._ Not guilty! _Ner._ Nay. _Pop._ Why, he confesses it. _Ner._ I know the man: his mind is here at ease. The style is pithy and careless. When he has aught To excuse, he is wordy. _Tig._ He was wordy enough In the matter of Agrippina, true. _Ner._ Well, sir! _Pop._ And in the matter of Britannicus. _Ner._ Why raise these matters now? 2500 _Tig._ These are the matters That Seneca harps on: while he lives they live. _Pop._ These are the deeds Epicharis charged against thee. _Tig._ This was the root of Flavus’ hate. _Pop._ ’Tis this The people mean, who whisper when I pass, ‘Octavia, Octavia.’