It is told of Andre Chenier, the French poet, that on his way to execution he asked for writing materials to record some of the strange thoughts which filled his mind.
The wish was denied him, but Seneca had ample liberty to record his last utterances.

Amanuenses were summoned, who took down those dying admonitions, and in the time of Tacitus they still were extant.

To us, however, this interesting memorial of a Pagan deathbed is irrevocably lost.
Nero, meanwhile, to whom the news of these circumstances was taken, having no dislike to Paulina, and unwilling to incur the odium of too much bloodshed, ordered her death to be prohibited and her wounds to be bound.

She was already unconscious, but her slaves and freedmen succeeded in saving her life.

She lived a few years longer, cherishing her husband's memory, and bearing in the attenuation of her frame, and the ghastly pallor of her countenance, the lasting proofs of that deep affection which had characterised their married life.
Seneca was not yet dead, and, to shorten these protracted and useless sufferings, he begged his friend and physician Statius Annaeus to give him a draught of hemlock, the same poison by which the great philosopher of Athens had been put to death.