_Pop._ Ah, true! 2530 To kill one’s husband, plot against one’s son, Should leave unsatisfied some tender feelings To spend upon a step-child. Why, she knows Those arts which manage you would not gull me, A woman not her child. Her whole design Is bent to thwart our marriage; and she will. I know it.
_Ner._ I swear that were this proved against her, Came it to a question ’twixt herself and thee, Which to take, which to lose, then not a moment Would I delay: the blow I have often sworn 2540 To strike should fall.
_Pop._ Now, as she loves me, this is mine.
_Pop._ (_reading_). Ho! ho! ho! ho! Now shines the sun at noon.
_Pop._ (_reads_). _To her dearest son. Ha! ha! ha! When last we met thou wilt remember to have confessed some shame for wrong done to me. The wrong I forgive, but eagerly seize on thy sorrow to ask of thee, in regard for thine own happiness, this only favour. ’Tis my earnest prayer and advice that thou dismiss Poppæa._ 2551
_Pop._ Attend, the reasons follow. (_Reading._) _Beware of her: nor think that I grudge thee the happiness which thou now findest in her. Marriage with her can lead only to thy misery. I know her well._ Now hear my character.
_Pop._ _She is vain, deceitful, self-seeking, and, being by nature cold, hath the art to assume the mask of passion; and ’neath the show of virtue designedly conceals her wickedness and mischief. She loves thee no better than she loves Otho._ 2561
_Pop._ Nay, one sentence more. _Believe a woman sees further than a man, since to her eyes beauty is no veil._ She grants me beauty then. [_Gives letter to Nero._
_Ner._ (_reading_). ’Tis so, ’tis so. Ye gods! and thou wert right. Poppæa, this is the end. Come not to Baiæ. Wait my return.
_Ner._ Ask not: when I return I shall be free. We will be married.
_Pop._ From her exile still her plottings Will reach to Rome.
_Ner._ Not so, for she shall go Whence nothing reaches Rome.
_Pop._ Oh, now I fear I have said too much; let not my love o’ercome thee. Maybe she meant not this.
_Pop._ Oh, but at least no crimes, Nero, no crimes! Promise me that; rather I’ll fly to-night.
_Ner._ Poppæa, in earnest of the happy day When thou wilt be my wife, I bid thee now Depart. 2580
_Pop._ (_kissing him_). Husband, I go. [_Exit._