Ah, patience, sir! I cannot in one moment gird myself To murder all these kisses, and she hath A vastness in this narrow world so rare, A sweep majestical about the earth-- True, that she hath no ear for verse---- (TIGELLINUS: For thine.) Yet passion, fury, and ambition, these Are primal things in our elaborate age. Ill can we spare them. (BURRUS: Now, 'tis you or she.) A little time in which to fix my mind. I go to Baiae; for I am not housed Here as I should be: all the palace seems To me a hovel; scarcely can I breathe. I should be roofed with gold, and walled with gold, Should tread on gold; and if I cast mine eyes Over the city, they should view a scene Of spacious avenues and breathing trees, And buildings plunged in odorous foliage. This is a petty city: I have thought It might be well to raze it to the ground And build another and an ampler Rome, More worthy site for this imperial soul. I'll go to Baiae, there to dream this dream.

Slave To Nero Monologue

Rehearse Slave To Nero's monologue