f 20v

When I was annoyed because of those who called a multitude together to the shows and decided one ought to refrain from corporal punishment since they had worked not at all reluctantly, I began to use abuse, full of acrimony and vexation, as is my custom: rather rashly, perhaps, especially among stricken spirits, but I gave full rein to my grief. And so when I had driven them all off with my savage words, I forced them wholly to assume those parts which they had in the comedy, not just on the stage but in life itself and deed, as a way of placating my spirit. Eubulus formed no less sound a plan about his affairs than he gave the day before to Pelargus, his neighbour and friend. Acolastus again goes into exile, who, I fear, may fall among the Pamphagi and Pantalabes. Surely Pelargus, just as unhappy now as previously, finds it hard, I think, to be separated from his son.

f 27v (16 February)

Your business was carried out in such a way under yesterday's light, as much with regard to the unusual pronunciation as to the action itself that now and hereafter, as sunny old men, you can remember your performances. You may say 'I remember, when I was a boy, having performed (plays) which were in Greek. He was an actor, and so was he; and I myself played some part.' And this will be a glory which never adorned your forefathers.

f 88v

From those stage plays which we have lately exhibited publicly to the view, I think you have derived this benefit besides others, that you have learned yourselves and are also able to teach others – if there were need – with what expression, with what gestures something should be pronounced. For there should be in the voice a certain amount of elevation, depression, and modulation, in the body decorous movement without prancing around, sometimes more quiet, at others more vehement, with stamping of the feet accommodated to the subject. These I remember I taught, all of which you expressed dexterously enough. It remains that you so remember that if anything hereafter be undertaken in a similar matter neither I shall seem to have lost my labour nor you the fruit of labour.

f 89

The interpreters of Terence and Plautus say a great deal about the origin of comedies and of their nature, disputing not a little so that it may be clear what comedy is. Some wish it to be an imitation of civil life, others wish it to be a representation of the manners which are found in old men, youths, courtesans, pimps, parasites, and others of that kind. From these if it were permitted for me to dissent, I think I could give both a truer and shorter definition of comedy. For what else is comedy than a laborious nothing? Invention difficult, disposition laborious, the description of parts difficult, the training of those who act, if they are a little inept, exasperating, the providing of the curtains well-nigh impossible, the construction of the theatre expensive, the exclusion from the doors not without the offence of many, and the comedy itself nothing. For what is so completely nothing as that which in one moment of the hour, point of time, winking of the eye, both begins to be and ceases?

f 95v

When the commander Iphicrates had seen the poultry cocks of Midas' barber attacking those who were Callias' with wings and beak, he turned his mind to military glory. They say that the same thing happened to Themistocles, who when he was leading the army out against the barbarians, saw cocks fighting and, stopping the whole army, he said to them: 'Can it be that these (cocks) are fighting not for their homeland nor for their household gods, nor for liberty, or for children, but only lest one be overcome by the other or one give place to another?' With these words he strengthened the spirits of the Athenians and put the Persians to flight. Thereafter the Athenians made a law that poultry cocks should fight every year in the theatre. Understand that this same practice is only allowed you so that, as no half-hearted onlookers of that fight, you may, each one, earnestly take from it an incentive to courage, along with Iphicrates and the other Athenians.

f 142

On Monday

The three parts of comedies are reckoned as prothesis, epitasis, and catastrophe. Comedies, moreover, are said to be imitators of people who exist in real life, so let no one doubt that these same divisions occur in real life. You should note also the three time periods in diseases: growth, stasis, and decline. This same thing occurred in the recent holidays, for they had a beginning, a middle, and an end, that you may understand that what Cicero said is true, that nothing ought to seem lasting that will have an end.

What shall I say! That it happens that every night!

Our plays continually pass before my eyes.

But Mitio does not disturb me with empty forms,

Nor Nero – Cambyses alone does all.

He and his satraps and his wife and everyone,

Whether priests or savage monsters, flow by me.

Now I seem to bear ill their confused tumult,

Their hoarseness and the too-restricted places.

Meantime I seem to hear voices from the lowest parts

Of the hall nor do my actors seem to go over well.

I'm still not sure why this is; I perhaps on that day pleased the audience;

I certainly didn't please myself.

ff 143–5

...

Nero and Poppaea speak together

Nero:	Speak, for hidden sorrow causes greater pain: why do you, my wife, weep so often from your heart and renew your griefs? Do you doubt my faithfulness, whose marriage-bed you now occupy as a bride?
Poppaea:	Augustus, greatest glory of the world, I, late (but a) handmaiden, acknowledge that it is your gift that I seem worthy of your marriage-bed and am called your wife. I have never sought this nor was it my so arrogant desire – I call sacred marriage and you yourself, a divinity, especially to be worshipped by me, to witness. Although what good is that gift, to be the wife of Nero and a partner in such great power if yet I remain lowly as I was before when I was married to Crispinus, spurned, despised by all, fearful of ruin, because the servants of evil who gravely threaten my head no longer speak secretly and insult me even now that you are my husband.
Nero:	Does anyone do this against the wife of Nero?
Poppaea:	I am not called a wife! That one calls me courtesan and whore.
Nero:	You, joined to me by holy bonds, who bear a part of me?
Poppaea:	That part, though not yet born, is still addressed harshly.
Nero:	Do they deny that it is mine?
Poppaea:	No, but they deny that I am yours.
Nero:	Shall I believe that anyone would dare such a great crime?
Poppaea:	The overturned statues tell you they have dared.
Nero:	Have they been put back? The mob has been punished for you.
Poppaea:	Rather, it has been taught to do harm if it find a leader.
Nero:	Let another learn (how) to be leader from the death of Plautus.
Poppaea:	It has many Plauti in one woman.
Nero:	What woman is so powerful that she would dare such a thing?
Poppaea:	The one who bears such great titles, whose father was Claudius.
Nero:	Who barren and despised has given place to you?
Poppaea:	Who lives and still nurtures a powerful spirit.
Nero:	Slight things (or exiles) are soon broken.
Poppaea:	If in fact, Nero, she were wholly sent into exile! But now she has retinues in our city, her father's slaves, old friends, and – what is finally revealed – lovers. Encaerus confesses the shameful act: a vile slave of Canopus, mighty with the sistrum and his art, has made an ambush in your marriage-bed. These, though quiet, are always your enemies and they are stirring up the mob with the sound of a double-edged word, that they are armed to replace the offspring of the Claudian house among paternal laurels, and they restore to her husband one who, great with child, swells with dread hopes of rule.
Nero:	Is she pregnant, who as the companion of our bed bore nothing, did not even conceive in these ten years?
Poppaea:	So (says) the doubtful rumour of the mob, nor does that seem wonderful to me. She would have borne a child before now had she chastely kept to your bed alone. As it is, her practice of fickle desire and her lascivious passion of lost debauchery towards all men produced a miscarriage. Lust has made whatever vice there is in her. If you doubt, Nero, the thing itself shows what is happening: she conceives, after she sees what crime is charged against her without offspring. If you ask where the child comes from, alas for the sacred laws of marriage On this side a slave, on the other a sailor struggle in turn for the place of its father and, what is the lasting disgrace, Encaerus wants to be his own and Anicetus his own, the base fosterling whom soon, at his mother's will, an armed band will summon unto the august house of the Caesars, having cast out your own child and true offspring. Who can bear such a great crime? They will give over the reins of power to be held by that same (base child).
Nero:	Stop crying, my wife: your sorrow is justified and my wrath ever weak. But it will be corrected: surely she will not get away with this, by whose unspeakable coition our entire house is polluted, who foists off her bastards on me and intends my empire for her by- blow? Now I see that the child has gained understanding of a depraved mother and learned to renew an ancient shameful act from the illustrious example of her mother: the mother married Silius, she rushes into the mutual embrace of Anicetus. The crime of each is equal and deserves an equal punishment. Will Nero yield in vengeance to her father Claudius? Will he spare the incestuous exile who did not spare his own mother? After so many noble youths and old men, a brother, and a mother had been given over to various deaths, will he so far desist from rage, unmindful of his character and theirs? She will feel my blow. An emperor has not only islands: he has also axes, prisons, hooks, and crosses. This inciter of the mob against my head, adulteress, exile, and barren woman – will she nourish my fears besides? Go first of all, I command, and free your emperor from this fear! As long as she breathes and draws breath, the people will not find rest: they wish her dead.
Messenger:	Let anyone who praises human affairs or being powerful rejoices in proud things behold the last progeny and fall of the Claudian house. Scarcely ever has fortune provided greater lessons.
Nero:	What has the prefect done? Has he carried out my commands?
Messenger:	He has.
Nero:	Does she live? Does she lie in death?
Messenger:	She lives, but as one who desires freely to change that life for death: her only wish is to die. If you order harsher punishments, you will please her.