_Ner._ Go, bid him hither straight. [_Exit Servant._ It shall be done. Ay, now it shall be done. Let me consider; I must be cool, lest I be foiled once more. Where lies my hindrance? not in her; she has twice Deceived me and escaped: now in my turn I steal her weapon, and can use it better, Having been plain before. Then Seneca... He shall not know, so are his scruples quiet. For mine, they are hushed already; but ’twere best Recount the terms which reason can oppose 2591 To too rebellious nature: first there’s my motive, Huge as the earth; liberty, happiness, Empire: that cannot slide, I fear not that. Then there’s the ground of justice; Claudius’ death, O’er which the executive too long hath slept In Cæsar’s piety: the sentence now O’ertakes the murderess with a double score, Since she by her conspiracy contrived Britannicus should die ... ay, for his death 2600 The heavy penalty hangs o’er some head; Now let it fall on hers,—so I am quit. All this condemns her, long-expected justice Cries, and occasion hurries on the hand. Ay, ay, I am clear. Poppæa being my stake, I cannot shrink nor swerve. What was’t she wrote? Why here is more. [_Reads._ _Be with me in this matter, But if thou should’st refuse, we are worse foes._ She dares the threat.
_Ner._ Good Anicetus, tell me, is there none 2610 Greater than Cæsar?
_Ner._ But were there one to whom it might be said Cæsar owed life and fortune—dost thou take me?
_Ner._ Nay, thou’rt dull: ’Twas thee I meant.
_Ner._ Dost remember Boasting to me that thou hadst sailor means To do a certain thing?
_Ner._ Do it now. I’ll owe thee life and fortune. Canst thou be trusted?
_Anic._ My love for Cæsar follows hand in hand With his command in this.
_Ner._ Then do it, I say; 2620 No words, no explanation. Agrippina Will come to Baiæ: there have thou thy ship.
_Anic._ I will have one at Bauli, one at Baiæ: If she take either it shall serve the turn.
_Ner._ Go now contrive thy means; let nothing ’scape thee To me or any other: when ’tis done Hold thy head high.
_Ner._ Now comes my part: ay, though it vex my soul To stoop; tho’ this be Cæsar’s greatest wrong, That he must patch his faultless power with guile, And having all command, miss of his will 2631 But for a subterfuge .... yet for this once I’ll do it—’tis little; but to write a letter, Feign to discard Poppæa, as mistrusting Her love and character; and from that vantage I surely win my mother to come forth And join the court at Baiæ—she will come.