rs,
Composes music out of dreadful cries,
His orchestra our human agonies,
His rhythms lamentations of the ruined,
His poet's fire not circumscribed by words,
But now translated into burning cities,
His scenes the lives of men, their deaths a drama,
His dream the desolation of mankind,
And all this pulsing world his theatre.
[_Steps heard without._
The dead man's children startled from their sleep!
Britannicus, Octavia, wondering.

AGRIPPINA. Till the auspicious hour he is not dead.

OCTAVIA _and_ BRITANNICUS _enter_

OCTAVIA. We could not sleep: father is very sick.
We fancied every moment that he called us.

BRITANNICUS. And then these meteors full of coming woe----

OCTAVIA. So brilliant and so silent! O, I fear them.

BRITANNICUS. Is father yet awake? We want to ask him----

[THEY _approach the couch_. AGRIPPINA _interposes_.

AGRIPPINA. Do not disturb your father for this night.

OCTAVIA. We will not speak, nor make the smallest sound
To wake him. We must kiss him ere we sleep.

AGRIPPINA. Children, he is in need of some long rest. Go back to bed:
your father sleepeth sound.

BRITANNICUS. I will go in to him, I will--and you
Are not our mother. By what privilege
Do you thus interpose yourself between
A father and his children?

AGRIPPINA. Would you then
Trouble him, when to sleep is all he asks?

OCTAVIA. Only a moment! But to see him!

AGRIPPINA. No!
Come softly back to bed! no--no--this way!
Britannicus, with the first peer of light
You shall behold your father; but not now.
So the physician, Xenophon, enjoined me.
Now take Octavia's hand--so, both of you.
[OCTAVIA _holds her face to be kissed._
To-night I think I will not kiss you, child.
Good-night, good-night.

[_Exit_ OCTAVIA _and_ BRITANNICUS.

SENECA. How often have I taught
And written, 'Children shall not be beguiled
Even for good ends.' And yet, the single lie
Must, for the general good, be spoken; yet----

[MUSICIANS _meanwhile have entered, and are playing dreamy
music_. AGRIPPINA _turns to_ ASTROLOGER, _holding out her
arms_.

AGRIPPINA. How long till Rome shall greet her Emperor?

ASTROLOGER. Behold the heavens! The moment!

[_Exit_ ASTROLOGER.

AGRIPPINA. Give the sign!

[_Sounds of acclamation and cries of 'Nero.'_ BURRUS
_draws his sword_.

BURRUS. See the Praetorians!

SENE