Peter Ustinov: Nero

Quo Vadis

Nero

Nero: [as none of his closest men will die for him in light of the mob's anger over Rome's burning] I'm surrounded by eunuchs!

Nero: [annoyed] Why do you stare at me, Acte?
Acte: My Lord, I can only say... when all this sets with the final sun, remember the look of Acte.
Nero: [snidely] Why should I remember you?
Acte: No one loves you as I love you.
Nero: I command you to *stop* loving me!

Nero: [during the burning of Rome] Insatiable and thankless mob! What do they want?
Petronius: Justice.
Nero: No mob ever wants justice. They want vengeance.

Nero: Poppaea, one woman shouldn't judge another. She hasn't the glands for it. Ha-ha!

Nero: Petronius, look what I've created! Tigellinus, my robe of grief. Terpnos, lyre. History will judge my song, Petronius. Will it be great enough to match the occasion? I'm seized with the fear that it will not be great enough.
Petronius: You will be worthy of the spectacle, as the spectacle is worthy of you.
Nero: You encourage me, Petronius. But I'm aware that I must compete with those who sang of the burning of Troy. My song must be greater, just as Rome is greater than Troy.
[singing]
Nero: Silence, ye spheres, Be still, ye hurtling stars, Open wide-vaulted skies above me, Now, at last, lo, I see Olympus, And a light from its summit, Doth illumine me, I am one with the Gods, immortal, I am Nero, The artist who creates with fire, That the dreams of my life, May come true, To the flames now I give the past, To the flames and soil, Take thou this Rome, Oh, receive her now, ye flames, Consume her as would a furnace, Burn on, O ancient Rome, Burn on, burn on!

Nero: [on learning that Petronius is dead] I shall never forgive him for this!

Nero: [as Vinicius and the other soldiers march past] Come closer. Look. They march as they fight: strong, brave, relentless... our unconquerable children. We must take them to our breast.
Poppaea: [obviously attracted to Vinicius and interpreting the double-entendre literally] Yes, my Lord.

Nero: It's lonely to be an emperor.
Petronius: It is lonelier still to be a genius.
Nero: You're the only one who understands the complications of my tortured nature. Is that not a theme for a poem, Petronius?
Petronius: It is a theme for an epic, Divinity. But to write it, you must suffer it.

Nero: Dear Poppaea, one woman should never judge another. She hasn't the glands for it. Ha-ha-ha. Isn't that witty, Petronius?
Petronius: Among the Gods, your humor is unique.

Petronius: Rome has given the world justice and order. Sign that, and Roman justice will receive a blow... from which it may never recover. Condemn these Christians and you make martyrs of them... and insure their immortality. Condemn them, and in the eyes of history... you'll condemn yourself.
Nero: When I have finished with these Christians, Petronius... history will not be sure that they ever existed.

Nero: [dying] Oh, how dull, how tasteless life will be for them without me. How can they face such a world? How can they endure it?

Nero: They irk me, those people. They irk me! Do I live for them or do they live for me?
Petronius: Unfortunately, Caesar, as a ruler, you must have subjects to rule. Sheer population is a necessary evil.

Nero: My conflagration does not burn enough. And do you know why? I've never seen a burning city. You said one must - suffer an experience to re-create it. A sculptor has his model. I had no model.
Petronius: To burn a city in order to create an epic. That's carrying the principle of art for art's sake too far.
Nero: Soon the spring will be over. The summer heat will begin. What stenches will arise from Rome?

Nero: When I play and sing, I have visions of things I never dreamed existed. The world is mine. And mine to end.

Nero: Petronius, are you a Christian?
Petronius: I am not. I have heard that the Christians teach you to love your neighbor. And as I see what men are, I cannot, for the life of me, love my fellow man.

Nero: They demand too much. I tell you, this mob, this mob tortures me. I hate it second only to Rome itself.