FIRST OFFICER
You had us called?
SECOND OFFICER
What’s going on? I thought I heard a scream?
FIRST OFFICER
The general is stirring up the troops.
PISO
Augustus is dead. Tiberius rules.
SECOND OFFICER
And he, Germanicus, will he not yield?
FIRST OFFICER
He’ll lead our armies back to Rome then?
and squash the Caesars flat?
PISO
He’s waiting, waiting ... perhaps he has refused ...
SECOND OFFICER
That can’t be so: the army’s on the march!
PISO
But northwards ... as Tiberius’ men.
SECOND OFFICER
Not to gain freedom then?
PISO [Impatiently]
North, north, north – ’gainst the German hosts.
Listen: tonight all stands upon a crux,
the world weighs on the sharp edge of a knife
and all around is turmoil.
[To Second Officer] You’ll follow me?
What I decide, that will suffice for you?
Second Officer nods
Then watch outside, walk all around this tent,
So many ears are cocked to hear us talk. [18]
To First Officer
And you: stand at the tent-flap,
let no-one enter that didn’t take our oath,
a brother in conspiracy.
Second Officer goes off; First Officer stands at the tent flap; Piso sits down; then other officers come in, one at a time.
THIRD OFFICER
Piso, what is going on?
PISO
Wait till we are all here, there’re few enough.
– In former times one couldn’t count the Roman men ...
Lucius enters tent with young Fourth Officer
FOURTH OFFICER
What is it, Lucius? What is the message, Piso?
LUCIUS
Forty years now the Romans have had a lord,
an overlord; we creep like snails along the foot
and over us the mighty trunk of Caesar looms,
He walks above and treads but hardly sees us;
all has grown small, just one is great
and grossly towers over us.
We’re in a pit. Where once the domed expanse
of highest heaven stretched out over us,
is now a slivered day, a pinpoint-light
to which we all, both you and I, like blind worms
wriggle our little necks. Now it will end!
Once more we shall be Roman men. Germanicus,
he knows the goal, the way, he’ll lead us on
to that freedom where the Roman race
once more shall stand above the earth, a lofty pine.
His legions themselves spoke it outright.
Piso, our hour has come!
PISO
But he refused.
LUCIUS [19]
I thought I heard him say: “First north, then south”?
North first, then southwards – weren’t those his very words?
PISO
No, he said nothing. Soldiers clamoured, yes.
Those that never think, they shouted something out;
perhaps they think their stupid yells and cries
reveal a spark of future worlds to them.
Tomorrow they’ll start thinking that they heard.
But true, there was a call ...
LUCIUS
Piso, you’re bitter.
They did shout this. And, sure, that’s what he thinks?
PISO
What he thinks no-one knows – as little as he
can know our thoughts ...
[To the whole group] he’s our hope, our only one,
the only man who dares take on the house
of Caesar and – destroy its dark power ...
AN OFFICER
But he, Germanicus, is Caesar born.
In him Rome lives again: he’s grave but simple
his pride in honour bound ... he is no Caesar:
the name is false, he had it smeared on him –
a ... Claudius from a lengthy line.
When I look at him now, I feel so proud
to live near one like him at such a time ...
PISO
If I may speak: he is the only one –
or should I say: he was – who can resurrect
a free Republic, erase from our long annals
the dark line of Caesars, dictators over all,
and free us from long bondage now.
That’s why I stooped, old soldier that I am
to serve at his command, boy that he is. [20]
Each one of us alone the Caesars and Tiberius
can crush like nits in the pigtails of a wench.
AN OFFICER
You call out dangerous names, my Piso.
LUCIUS
We know there’s danger, but danger’s grand ...
PISO
The Caesars hold all laws in their hands.
They own the legions and the stupid mobs.
They trust the flat and fertile provinces
which just need peace to grow fat and prosperous.
We are but few that sing a different tune ...
LUCIUS
But he,
Germanicus, is one of those. Now we shall strike.
AN OFFICER
Rebellion, this. This I did not expect.
LUCIUS
Rebellion. Danger, yes!. This is the deed
for which we’ve spent a lifetime reaching out
like to no woman. From these same marshy lands
the first Caesar marched, wiry old Julius,
brought arms to Rome and shattered the state,
our freedom and its honour, all; and now
from these same marshlands it billows back,
irrevocable, washing away Caesars in its wake.
PISO
To Officer who has just spoken
How did I teach you my trustworthiness? Next to a wine jug?
Or in the declamations at your school?
You dare think to hesitate? And in this hour?
You: take up command and head your cohort now!
Keep this in mind: I shall persecute you still
– or any other, whoever, anywhere –
if you betray your oath. [This Officer goes off] [21]
Are there any others
who’d go with him? Reduce the Roman ranks?
OFFICERS
We stand with you.
PISO
“Stand”, yes; “we stand” is fine.
We all can stand. But I must speak.
We are the last true ones of our race,
in this small band –
the last ones to keep republican ideals.
Yes, we forget, so much we have forgotten yet:
Ahala of old who felled a king with a single blow,
the first great Brutus and the Cincinnati,
the Scipios, that were reckless in their arrogance,
twice each one died: once quiet and proud
among the masks of all their ancestors
that ruled the earth, yet once again:
then when they faded in our memories and hearts.
Just one thing we remember well: to bend our backs,
crawl and flatter, sell ourselves. No longer do we
grow to Roman man’s estate:
petty shopkeepers with onions and shallots
soft white onions from Ashkalon or Syria –
we all are now, we chose that role ourselves.
Yes, the man who felled the first Caesar amongst
a senate forged from foreign blood – that man
have we nearly forgotten, his great deed undone.
But all can change now, all hinges on this night.
Tonig
ht he had his chance to act.
The world looks on – they see a different man
from what we see, the young Germanicus.
Who are not looking up to him tonight:
– come, let us be clear, as poison’s clear,
think how the legions stand by him and shout ...
for booty, for fat pay packets and shorter terms;
the mob, the teeming masses, dark and wild,
what do they think – if they do think and don’t just shout:
“Germanicus”? – what? That he’s young and handsome,
son of Drusus, friendly to all, polite –
that costs so little – perhaps vaguely think that he
will grant largesse, the dross that they call “Justice”,
to all the little men, the meaner streets of Rome;
Marcus and Caius, officers under him:
each strives for wealth, and hope for honour’s crown
through him, if he should rule ... But then we
we who are so few and must speak darkly:
we waited all, whispered his name with hope
to our soldiers, we then believed of him
that he would uproot the cancer that is Caesar ...
I’ve heard him often: much he had to say
of virtue and told me of our former good.
I think I was a fool, stupid like a boy.
LUCIUS
He cannot cheat us now!
PISO
Lucius, Lucius.
To the group
Listen: tonight there was something that broke.
We all were eager to drive him on, to follow fast ...
from now on each of us may have to act alone.
When he is Caesar, we’ll stand up to him again.
But we shall be too few and far between.
And yet, he might but be an instrument of the Caesars,
yet mighty in his loyalty to Rome ...
it’s all uncertain. Each must do as he sees fit.
And I am tired and my courage done.
It’s forty years.
[Forcefully] Our will shall not yet break, for it is tough,
it lasted forty years. Go, each to his task. [23]
Tonight makes new demands. We shall stay true.
I have decided. This first must be our only task:
that we stay silent – not incite, nor must we warn,
no more of what we did before, sowing
loose words, loose thoughts among the soldier mobs
in the coarse, dull black furrows of their brains:
“Follow Germanicus”, “He is our man –”
now nothing but to wait and watch:
don’t stir a finger this way or that;
no breath of air on the feather-lightness of his will,
but watch which way he stirs – and act on that ...
[Softly] and, if he fails, Rome dare not fall with him.
LUCIUS
Let us prepare to meet a swift and silent death.
Piso remains sitting at the table without moving; the other officers go off singly; only Lucius lingers.
PISO
Perhaps you are too hasty – a young man’s blood yearns
either for fiery life or fiery, sudden death ...
Do you know what he was doing when we
entered his tent to plan the march with him?
Translating Aratus. Polishing the translation then
– something about stars, I think – on such a night as this.
And you get these ecstasies and long for death.
Lucius, what if he too becomes a slave
As all, as all the best have done?
LUCIUS
He cannot! He’s too clean; a noble clarity sits
In his grey eyes
PISO
What, eyes? What, his face?
Let women hand out sovereignty according to his eyes.
And any mob.
LUCIUS
But he’s like glass, such clarity, [24]
And what I see is truer than my thought.
That’s often murky, dim, uncertain too.
PISO
You say he’s glass? For you he’s just a mirror:
no-one sees through him – your image only, your youth,
the reflection of your own true worth,
[Suddenly softly] My Lucius, if only you could learn this too
mankind is opaque and so full of guile,
deep strange layers in the heart and brain.
[More loudly] His silent core, what you all call his clarity
if I could know, know, could tear him open somehow
and peer down in his depths, look – his silent soul
take it out, hold up before my eyes and know:
is this a sickly recklessness? or fear?
the sober weighing up of lust and fear?
is this the cold blood of shark or dog fish?
that bides its time, waits? This pause, the silence ...
and henceforth Caesar, monarch? It’s his birthright.
Then, Lucius?
Tyrants can die ... though tyranny lives on.
LUCIUS
What then?
PISO
What did an ancient Roman do?
LUCIUS
Don’t ask me that. Not that. Not me, ’gainst him.
PISO
You’re weak. It’s all so soft, it’s butter-soft
where I want to lay my hand on Roman steel.
LUCIUS
Piso, you ask too much. You were my friend,
you were my more-than-father; you formed me then,
you trained my noble thoughts, you taught me to live
in that high simplicity so much your own. [25]
I needed to be ripped, you ripped me loose
an obsequious underling, from bowing down
to this late and lukewarm era of our race.
You made me see just what Rome was formerly.
And then I saw him: he stood apart
and all unlearned showed true nobility
like something not from seed nor mortal growth
but sprung from gods, ever in silent clarity.
You ask too much ...
PISO
We were so great and stern.
The earth could shatter round us, break.
Child, parent, wife, we offered all to slaughter,
just so that we could rule the whole wide world,
LUCIUS
Just don’t ask that.
PISO
... just so that noble should rule over base, master rule
his slave, Roman over those that think limp, humble
thoughts. Now we too are so soft and limp,
LUCIUS
Can you not ask some other thing.
PISO
... and all is weak, it droops and clings to our fingers;
It’s “love” and “friendship”, “humanity”,
Those are your words – “honour”, “duty” are no more ...
LUCIUS
Not against him, no – I’d rather die myself.
PISO
And maybe die for a lesser man than you.
LUCIUS
I just don’t know. Yes, I know, I know.
PISO
You know?
if he’s juggling us around? or if he fears? [Laughs] [26]
you’re made of fire – can you think like snow?
LUCIUS
Keep me from knowing. First doubts, then double doubts ...
how small the deed, how great is death.
That I shall clutch. I’ll fall when this campaign is done
as if to a feast; and the closely tangled web
of all my doubting, this uncertainty
will fall apart. I shall not think but die.
And the holy scales of “loving” against “pride”,
these will the gods keep fast and handle well.
Not my place to judge him! Goodnight, Piso.
PISO [Tiredly]
Wait first.
Will you remember that I loved you well?
And if you break faith, I’ll strike you down.
And even then old Piso’ll love you still.
And ... that you were noble but did not want –
that cannot be forgiven you. [Lucius off]
Not even death can undo knots like these;
that’s what young men think, and weaklings.
Trust no man fully, for all can break.
But hold fast to your own will, cling to freedom,
and certain death to all that ask for less.
Scene Three
Agrippina’s tent
That same night
[27]
The same night. Agrippina in her tent, holding a mirror; Marcia, her aged lady-in-waiting, is fixing her hair