“I feel the love of madness for itself”
An abandoned Nero, forcing his new identity as lonely artist
Nero accepts his lot in life, as his pain will inspire him to greater art
Oft times I care little
How my condition is a majority
Of pain, for joy does never linger long,
And being no fair friend, enjoins with me
To forge endeavors none so worthwhile
As do myself and suffering.
Sabinus exhorts his officers to rouse the enlisted men to revolt
Then let each man remember what is owed him:
Back pay, earnest work, and an exigent path
Toward levity -
And if we should feel our indignance
At once arising: how are we not then justified?
Faenius asserts his chronic physical pain has strengthened his mind
The very harms which lame men’s bodies
Make vigilant their minds. Thus pain pervades
My wariness: It is an eye about me
Engendering infinite persecutions
From my enfeeblement, that I may preempt them.
Sabinus convinces an adversary to join in a scheme to subvert their superiors
I trust an impudent feeling is mutual,
And oft enough have seen blood-enemies
Thus to a common course engendered.
Nero, after strangling his wife, looks forward to openly loving his guardsman
Now am I rid of wife and mother,
But I can play the mourner easily:
I will give out how she has killed herself,
And make bold my displays of widow-grief,
The while in private,
I’ll mark the ending of our false design.
Burrus, now faintly does the morning come:
I think I shall find it easy to sleep.
Watch the city -
And wake me not when the faithful come,
I had rather be roused by it.
Now, let me not mind the keep:
I dream, I sleep.
Nero expresses gratitude to his guards for their genuine interest in his art
Gentlemen, many whom I would love
Are otherwise bound to me, yet this day
You have been my soul’s physicians:
You were firm to oppose your duty,
Yet your bearings are lovely and open:
Upon the close of our performance
I will acquit myself that well with you,
For for me to reciprocate
What otherwise I feel is natural to show
Begs no impetus, but the absence
Of such impediments as do obstruct
My heart’s expanse.
Nero scolds hecklers during his performance, challenging them to produce the truth they think his art has missed
Now mark me, sirs,
I hold not one of you indecent,
Yet these remarks are of too free a sort.
Therefore -
Determine what it is to be content,
And we shall do the work of it. Till then,
You may love our words, yet loathe what’s in them.
Ofonius explains why Nero’s guards no longer wish to serve him
Yet sometime all have watched as his eyes held,
And his gaze went out: what you felt from him
Was idleness - and it so disturbing,
That when our minds returned to their places,
We each as men resolved: no more to risk
Our lives to serve, but to endure the fall.
Nero rails against those trying to suppress him
It were a fault to earth to constrain me:
To constrain myself, to I know not what.
Nero believes instinct is superior to intellect
But I remain convinced of the lowliness
Of all the world’s knowledge, next to the truth
In one’s own feelings.