er to and fro this alien sand:
Riches I had, and steeds, a glimmering crown;
Never had known a harshness or a frown.
Now must I limp and beg from door to door,
Wet with the storm, or in the sun footsore:
I, by a brother's cunning dispossessed,
Crave for these languid limbs a place of rest.
Pity me, robbed of all!

[_He gives a cry and falls headlong. His limbs quiver a moment
and then are still. Meanwhile the shower of roses has slackened.
There is a dead silence, and in the silence slowly all the guests
turn and look at_ NERO, _who rises, with the emerald in his eye_.

NERO. Lift up the prince and bear him to his room.
I do entreat that none of you will stir
Or rise perturbed: my brother, since his birth,
Was ever thus: the fit will pass from him.
Refill the cups: proceed we with the feast!

[_There is an attempt to renew the feasting, but soon a scene of
uproar and confusion arises, and the guests leave the tables in
alarm._

[AGRIPPINA _alone remains unmoved, and then, as the guests have
departed in disorder, she confronts_ NERO _alone_.

AGRIPPINA. Thou hast done this.

NERO. Mother, I am thy son!

ACT III

SCENE I

SCENE.--NERO'S _private chamber. Enter_ NERO _hastily and perturbed,
followed by_ SENECA, BURRUS, _and_ TIGELLINUS, _his privy-councillors_.

BURRUS. Caesar, still glides the dead Britannicus
About the palace, and his memory
Your mother, Agrippina, uses: makes
Out of his ghost a faction for herself.
She grows a public peril; much you owe
To her, but more to Rome; from Antium
She rages disappointed to and fro.
Me for your army you hold answerable,
But can no longer if you suffer her
To lure the legions from their loyalty.
Her creatures whisper to your sentinels,
Corrupt your officers, inflame your guards.
A sullen silence on the camp is fallen,
A word, and it will roar in mutiny.

TIGELLINUS. Everywhere steal her agents and her spies,
Gliding through temples, baths, and theatres;
Possess all angles, corners, noonday halts,
And darknesses; they flit with casual poison
Softly; the city secretly is filled
With murmurs, lifted eyebrows, and with sighs.
The mischief's in the very blood of Rome
Unless the sore that feeds it is cut out.

NERO. Why, I myself have visited the fleet
With Anicetus: sullen droop the sails
Or flap in mutiny against the mast.
Burdened with barnacles