Let perfumed breezes pass
through all my draperies! Ah, I would die, voluptuously intoxicated.
Then, while I eat of some rare meat, that only I may taste, let
some one sing, while damsels, lightly draped, serve me from plates
of gold and watch my rest. One slave shall cut her sister's
throat, because it is my pleasure--a favourite with the gods--to
mingle the perfume of blood with that of food, and cries of
victims soothe my nerves.
This night I shall burn Rome. The flames shall light up heaven,
and Tiber shall roll in waves of fire!
Then, I shall build of aloes wood a stage to float upon the
Italian sea, and the Roman populace shall throng thereto chanting
my praise. Its draperies shall be of purple, and on it I shall
have a bed of eagles' plumage. There I shall sit, and at my side
shall be the loveliest woman in the empire, while all the universe
applauds the achievements of a god! And though the tempest roar
round me, its rage shall be extinguished 'neath my feet, and
sounds of music shall o'ercome the clamor of the waves!
* * * * *
What didst thou say? Vindex revolts, my legions fly, my women flee
in terror? Silence and tears alone remain, and I hear naught but
the rolling of thunder.
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