Slave To Nero Monologue

From Nero by Stephen Phillips

male · contemplative · 54 sec

Dormice with poppies and milk honey? There A slumberous music, heavy lingering chords. Ah! slices of pomegranate underneath. Snow--purest snow of course. (STEWARD: 'Twas not forgot.) Then glorying peacocks: here a sounding march, Something triumphal--even a trifle loud. And, ah! the mullets! You remembered them? (STEWARD: O Caesar, yes.) Let these be introduced By some low dirge. And let us see them die-- Slow-dying mullets within crystal bowls, Dying from colour unto colour: now Vermilion death-pangs fading into blue-- A scarlet agony in azure ending. There we have colour! And at last the tongues Of nightingales--the tongues of nightingales? O, silence with the tongues of nightingales. (He dismisses STEWARD.)

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