THE TRAGEDY OF NERO, Newly Written.  
Imprinted at London by Augustine Mathewes, and john Norton, for Thomas jones, and are to be sold at the black Raven in the Strand, 1624.   

THE tragedy OF NERO.  

Astus Primus.  Enter Petronius, arbiter, Antonius, Honoratus. Petronius. 
Tush, take the wench  
I showed thee now, or else some other seek;  
What? can your choler no way be allayed?  
But with Imperial titles?  
Will you more titles unto Caesar give?  Anto. 
Great are thy fortunes Nero, great thy power  
Thy Empire limited with nature's bounds;  
Upon thy ground, the Sun doth set, and rise;  
The day, and night are thine:  
Nor can the Planets, wander where they will:  
See that proud Earth, that fears not Caesar's name,  
Yet nothing of all this, I envy thee;  
But her, to whom the world, unforced, obeys,  
Whose eyes more worth than all it looks upon:  
In whom, all beauties Nature hath enclosed,  
That through the wide Earth, or Heaven are disposed  Petro. 
Indeed the steals, and robs each part o'th' world,  
With borrowed beauties to inflame thine eye;  
The Sea, to fetch her Pearl, is dived into:  
The diamond rocks are cut, to make her shine:  
To plume her pride, the Birds do naked sing  
When my Enanthe, in a homely gown.  Ant. 
Homely i'faith.  Petro. 
ay, homely in her gown,  
But look upon her face, and that's set out  
With no small grace, no veiled shadows help;  
Fool; that hadst rather with false lights, and dark  
Beguiled be, then see the ware thou buyest.  Poppea royally attended, and pass over the Stage, in State. Ant. 
Great Queen, whom nature made to be her glory:  
Fortune got eyes, and came to be thy servant,  
Honour is proud to be thy title; Though  
Thy beauties do draw up my soul; yet still,  
So bright, so glorious is thy Majesty,  
That it beats down again my climbing thoughts.  Petro. 
Why true;  
And other of thy blindnesses thou seest,  
Such one to love thou dar'st not speak unto.  
Give me a wench, that will be easily had,  
Not wooed with cost; And, being sent for, comes,  
And when I have her folded in mine arms,  
Than Cleopatra she, or Lucrece is:  
I'll give her any title.  Anto. 
Yet not so much her greatness, and estate  
My hopes dishearten, as her chastity.  Pet. 
Chastity, fool a word not known in Courts:  
Well may it lodge in mean, and country homes,  
Where poverty, and labour keeps them down,  
Short sleeps, and hands made hard with Tuscan wool.  
But never comes to great men's Palaces,  
Where ease, and riches, stirring thoughts beget,  
Provoking meats, and surfeit wines Inflame:  
Where all their setting forth's but to be wooed,  
And wooed they would not be, but to be won.  
Will one man serve Poppea? Nay, thou shalt  
Make her, as soon, contented with an eye.  Nimphidius to them. Nim. 
Whilst Nero, in the streets, his Pageants shows,  
ay, to his fair wife's chamber, sent for am.  
You gracious Stars, that smiled in my birth,  
And thou bright star more powerful than them all,  
Whose favouring smiles have made me what I am  
Thou shalt my God, my Fate, and fortune be. Ex. Nim.  Ant. 
How saucily you fellow.  
Enters the Empress chamber.  Pet. 
ay, and her too? Antonius knowest thou him?  Ant. 
What? knows the only favourite of the Court?  
Indeed, not many days ago thou mightest,  
Have not unlawfully asked that question.  Pet. 
Why? Is he raised?  Ant. 
That have I sought in him,  
But never piece of good desert could find:  
He is nimphidia's son, the decreed woman,  
Which baseness to shake off, he nothing hath  
But his own pride  Pet. 
You Remember, when Gallus, Celsus,  
And others too, though now forgotten were  
Great in poppea's eyes.  Ant. 
I do, and did interpret it in them  
An honourable favour, she bore virtue,  
Or parts like virtue.  Pet. 
The cause is one of theirs, and this man's grace,  
I once was great in wavering smiles of Court,  
I fell because I knew: Sense have I given  
My time to my own pleasures, and would now  
Advise thee too, to mean, and safe delights:  
The thigh's as soft the sheep's back covereth  
As that which crimson, and with Gold adorned:  
Yet cause I see, that thy restraind desires.  
Cannot their own way choose, come thou with me  
Perhaps I'll show thee means of remedy.  Exeunt. Two Romans at several doors. 1 Rom. 
Whither so fast man? whither so fast?  2 Rom. 
Whither? but where your ears do lead you;  
To Nero's Triumphs, and the shouts you hear.  1 Ro. 
Why? comes he crowned with Parthian overthrow.  
And brings he Volegaeus with him, chained?  2 Ro. 
Parthian overthrown? why, he comes crowned  
For victories which never Roman won;  
For having Greece in her own arts overthrown;  
In Singing, Dancing, horse-race, Stage-playing.  
Never, O Rome had never such a Prince.  1 Rom. 
Yet, I have heard: our ancestors were crowned  
For other Victories.  2 Rom. 
None of our ancestors, were ere like him. within Nero, Apollo, Nero, Hercules.  1 Rom. 
Hark, how th'applauding shouts do clear th'air  
This Idle talk will make me lose the sight.  Two Romans more to them. 3 Rom. 
Whither go you? all's done i'th' Capital,  
And Nero, having there his tables hung,  
And Garlands up: is to the Palace gone.  
'twas beyond wonder; I shall never see,  
Nay, I never look, to see the like again  
eighteen hundred and eight Crowns  
For several victories and the place set down  
Where, and in what, and whom he overcame.  4 Rom. 
That was set down itt'h tables, that were borne  
Upon the soldier's spears.  1 Rom. 
O made, and sometimes use to other ends.  2 Rom. 
But did he win them all with singing.  3 Rom. 
Faith all with singing, and with stage-playing.  1 Rom. 
So many Crowns got with a song.  4 Rom. 
But, did you mark the Greek Musicians  
Behind his Chariot, hanging down their heads?  
Shamed, and o'ercome, in their professions,  
O Rome was never honoured so, before.  3. Rom. 
But, what was he that rode i'th' 'Chariot with him?  4. Rom. 
That was Diodorus the Minstrel, that he favours.  3. Rom. 
Was there ever such a Prince.  2. Rom. 
O Nero Augustus, the true Augustus.  3. Rom. 
Nay, had you seen him as he rode along,  
With an Olympic Crown upon his head,  
And with a Pythian on his arm: you would have thought,  
Looking on one he had Apollo seemed,  
On th'other Hercules.  2. Rom. 
I have heard my father oft repeat the Triumphs,  
Which in Augustus Caesar's times were shown,  
Upon his Victory o'er the Illyrians;  
But it seems it was not like to this.  3, & 4. Rom. 
Push, it could not be like this.  2, 3, & 4. 
O Nero, Apollo, Nero, Hercules.  Exeunt. 2, 3, & 4. Rom. Manet Primus. 1. Rom. 
Whether Augustus' Triumph greater was  
I cannot tell; his Triumphs cause I know  
Was greater far, and far more Honourable.  
What are we People? or our flattering voices,  
That always shame and foolish things applaud  
Having no spark of Soul; All Ears, and eyes,  
Pleased with vain shows, deluded by our senses  
Still enemies to wisdom, and to goodness. exit.  Enter Nero, Poppea, Nimphidius, Tigellinus, Epaphroditus, Neophitus, and others. Nero, 
Now fair Poppea, see thy Nero shine  
In bright achaias' spoils, and Rome in him.  
The Capital hath other Trophies seen  
Then it was wont; Not spoils with blood bedewed,  
Or the unhappy obsequies of Death:  
But such, as Caesar's cunning, not his force,  
Hath wrung from Greece; too bragging of her art.  Tigell. 
And in this strife, the glories all your own,  
Your Tribunes cannot share this praise with you;  
Here, your Centurions hath no part at all,  
Bootless your Armies, and your Eagles were;  
No Navies helped, to bring away this conquest.  Nim. 
Even Fortune's self, Fortune the Queen of kingdoms  
(That Wars grim valour graceth with her deeds,)  
Will claim no portion in this Victory.  Nero. 
Not Bacchus, drawn from Nisa down with Tigers,  
Curbing with viny reins, their wilful heads,  
Whilst some do gape upon his ivy Thirse,  
Some, on the dangling grapes, that Crown his head,  
All praise his beauty, and continuing youth:  
So struck, amazed India, with wonder.  
As Nero's glories did the Greekish towns  
Elis, and Pisa, and the rich Micaena,  
junoman Argos, and yet Corinth proud  
Of her two Seas; all which o'ercome, did yield  
To me their praise, and prizes of their games.  Poppea, 
Yet, in your Greekish journey, we do hear,  
Sparta, and Athens, the two eyes of Greece,  
Neither beheld your person, nor your skill;  
Whether, because they did afford no games,  
Or for their too much gravity,  Nero: 
Why? what  
Should I have seen in them? but in the one,  
Hunger, black-pottage, and men hot to die,  
Thereby to rid themselves of misery:  
And what in th'other? but short Capes, long Beards,  
Much wrangling in things needless to be known,  
Wisdom in words, and only austere faces,  
I will not be Aiecelaus, nor Solon.  
Nero was there, where he might honour win,  
And honour hath he won, and brought from Greece,  
Those spoils which never Roman could obtain,  
Spoils won by wit and Trophies of his skill.  Nim. 
What a thing he makes it to be a minstrel.  Pop. 
I praise your wit, my Lord, that choose such safe.  
honours, safe spoils, won without dust, on blood.  Nero: 
What, mock ye me Poppea?  Poppea: 
Nay, in good Faith my Lord, I speak in earnest,  
I hate that heady, and adventurous crew,  
That go to lose their own, to purchase, but  
The breath of others, and the common voice,  
Them that will lose there hearing for a sound;  
That by death only, seek to get a living,  
Make scars there beauty, and count loss of limbs  
The commendation of a proper man,  
And so, go halting to immortality:  
Such fools I love worse than they do their lives.  Nero: 
But now Poppea, having laid apart  
Our boastful spoils, and ornaments of Triumph.  
Come we, like Joan from Phlegra—  Poppea: 
O Giantlike comparison.  Nero: 
When, after all his Fierce, and wandering darts,  
He comes to bathe himself, in Juno's Eyes:  
But thou, (then wrangling juno,) far more fair,  
Staining the evening beauty of the Sky,  
Or the day's brightness; shall make glad thy Caesar,  
Shalt make him proud such beauties to Enjoy: Exunt.  Manet, Nimphidius solus. Nimph: 
Such beauties to enjoy, were happiness,  
And a reward sufficient in itself,  
Although no other end, or hopes were aimed at:  
But I have other; 'tis not poppea's arms,  
Nor the short pleasures of a wanton bed,  
That can extinguish mine aspiring thirst  
To Nero's Crown; By her love I must climb,  
Her bed is but a step unto his Throne.  
Already, wise men laugh at him, and hate him;  
The people, though his Minstrelsy doth please them,  
They fear his Cruelty, hate his exactions,  
Which, his need, still, must force him to increase.  
The multitude, which cannot one thing long  
Like, or dislike, being cloyed with vanity,  
Will hate their own delights, though Wisdom do not,  
Even weariness, at length, will give them eyes,  
Thus, I by Nero's, and poppea's favour,  
Raised to the envious height of second place,  
May gain the first: Hate must strike Nero down.  
Love make nimphidius' way unto a Crown.  exit. Enter Seneca, Sceuinus, Lucan, and Flavius. Sceu. 
His first beginning was his Father's death,  
His brother's poisoning, and wives bloody end  
Came next, his mother's murder closed up all:  
Yet hitherto he was but wicked, when  
The guilt of greater evils, took away the shame  
Of lesser, and did headlong thrust him forth,  
To be the scorn, and laughter to the world;  
Then first, an Emperor came upon the Stage,  
And sung to please Carmen, and Candle-sellers,  
And learned to act, to dance, to be a Fencer,  
And in despite o'the Majesty of Princes,  
He fell to wrestling, and was soiled with dust,  
And tumbled on the Earth with servile hands.  Seneca 
He sometimes trained was in better studies,  
And had a Childhood promised other hopes;  
High fortunes, like strong wines, do try their vessels.  
Was not the Race, and Theater big enough,  
To have enclosed thy follies here at home?  
O could not Rome, and italy contain  
Thy shame? but thou must cross the Seas to show it?  Scen. 
And make them that had wont to see our Consuls,  
With conquering Eagles waving in the field;  
Instead of that; behold an Emperor dancing,  
Playing o'th' stage, and what else, but to name  
Were infamy.  Lucan. 
O Mummius, O Flaminius;  
You, whom your Virtues have not made more famous  
Than Nero's vices; You went over to Greece,  
But tother wars, and brought home other conquests.  
You Corinth, and Micena overthrew;  
And Perseus' self, the Great Achilles' race  
o'er came; having Minerva's stained Temples.  
And your slain Ancestors of Troy revenged  Senec. 
They strove with Kings; and kinglike adversaries.  
Were even in their Enemies made happy;  
The Macedonian Courage tried of old,  
And the new greatness of the Syrian power:  
But he for Philip, and Antiochus,  
Hath found more easy enemies to deal with,  
Turpuus, Pammenes, and a rout of Fiddlers.  Sceuin: 
Why all the begging Minstrels by the way,  
He took along with him, and forced to strive  
That he might overcome, Imagining  
Himself immortal, by such victories.  Flaui: 
The Men he carried over were enough  
T'have put the Parthian to his second flight  
Or the proud Indian, taught the Roman Yoke.  Sceuin: 
But they were Nero's men, like Nero armed  
With lutes, and Harps, and Pipes, and Fiddle-cases:  
Soldiers to th' shadow trained, and not the field.  Flaui: 
Therefore they brought spoils of such Soldiers worthy.  Luca: 
But to throw down the walls, and Gates of Rome,  
To make an entrance for an Hobby-horse;  
To vaunt toth' people his ridiculous spoils;  
To come with Laurel, and with Olives crowned,  
For having been the worst of all the Singers,  
Is beyond Patience;  Sceuin: 
I and anger too,  
Had you but seen him in his Chariot ride.  
That Chariot in which, Augustus late  
His Triumphs over 'so many Nations showed,  
And with him in the same a Minstrel placed,  
The whilst the people, running by his side,  
Hail thou Olympic Conqueror did cry,  
O hail thou Pythian, and did fill the sky  
With shame, and voices, Heaven would not have heard.  Senec: 
I saw't, but turned away my Eyes, and Ears,  
Angry, they should be privy to such sights.  
Why do I stand relating of the story,  
Which in the doing had enough to grieve me?  
Tell on, and end the tale, you, whom it pleaseth;  
Me mine own sorrow stops from further speaking.  
Nero, my love doth make thy fault, and my grief greater. ex. Se.  Sceuin: 
I do commend in Seneca this passion;  
And yet methinks our country's misery,  
Doth at our hands crave somewhat more than tears.  Luca: 
Pity, though't doth a kind affection show,  
(If it end there) our weakness makes us know.  Flaui: 
Let children weep, and men seek remedy,  Sceui: 
Stoutly, and like a Soldier, Flavius:  
Yet, to seek remedy to a PRINCE's ill,  
Seldom, but it doth the Physician kill.  Flaui: 
And if it do Scevinus, it shall take  
But a devoted soul from Flavius,  
Which, to my Country, and the Gods of Rome,  
Already sacred is, and given away,  
Death is no stranger unto me, I have  
The doubtful hazard in twelve Battles thrown,  
My chance was life.  Luca: 
Why do we go to fight in brittany?  
And end our lives under another Sun?  
Seek causeless dangers out? The German might  
Enjoy his Woods, and his own All is drink,  
Yet we walk safely in the streets of Rome:  
Bodinca hinders not, but we might live,  
Whom, we do hurt; Them we call enemies,  
And those our Lords that spoil, and murder us.  Sceuin: 
Nothing is hard to them that dare to die.  
This Noble resolution in you Lords,  
Heartens me to disclose some thoughts that I—  
The matter is of weight and dangerous.  Luca: 
I see you fear us Servinvs.  Sceuin 
Nay, Nay, although the thing be full of fear.  Flaui: 
Tell it to faithful Ears, what ever it be.  Sceuin: 
Faith let it go, it will but trouble us,  
be hurtful to the speaker, and the hearer.  Luca: 
If our long friendship, or the opinion.  Sceuin: 
Why should I fear to tell them?  
Why is he not a Parricide, a Player?  
Nay Lucan is he not thine Enemy?  
Hate not the Heavens, as well, as men, to see  
That condemned head: and you O righteous Gods  
Whither so ere you now are fled, and will  
No more look down upon th'oppressed Earth;  
O severe anger of the highest Gods,  
And thou stern power, to whom the Greeks assign  
Scourges, and swords to punish proud men's wrongs,  
If you be more than names found out to awe us,  
And that we do not vainly build you altars,  
Aid that just arm, that's bent to execute  
What you should do.  Luca. 
Stay, y'are carried too much away Scevinus.  Sceui. 
Why, what will you say for him? hath he not  
Sought to suppress your Poem, to bereave  
That honour every tongue in duty paid it.  
Nay, what can you say for him, hath he not  
Broached his own wives (a chaste wives) breast, and torn  
With Scythian hands his Mother's bowels up,  
The Inhospitable Caucasus is mild:  
The More, that, in the boiling desert, seeks  
With blood of stranger to imbrue his jaws  
Upbraids the Roman, now with barbarousness  Luca: 
You are to earnest,  
I neither can, nor will I speak for him:  
And, though he sought my learned pains to wrong,  
I hate him not for that, My verse shall live  
When Nero's body shall be thrown in Tiber,  
And times to come shall bless those wicked arms;  
I love th'unnatural wounds, from whence did flow  
Another Ciria, a new Helicon.  
I hate him that he is Rome's enemy,  
An enemy to Virtue; fits on high  
To shame the seat; And in that hate, my life,  
And blood, I'll mingle on the earth with yours.  Flaui: 
My deeds Scevinus shall speak my consent.  Sceui. 
'tis answered, as I looked for, noble Poet,  
Worthy the double Laurel; Flavius,  
Good luck I see, doth virtuous meanings aid,  
And therefore have the heavens forborn their duties,  
To grace our swords with glorious blood of Tyrants.  exeunt. 
Finis Actus Primi.   

Actus Secundus.  Enter Petronius Solus. 
HEre waits Poppea her Nimphidius coming,  
And hath this garden, and these walks chose out,  
To bless her with more pleasures than their own:  
Not only Arras hangings, and silk beeds  
Are guilty of the faults we blame them for:  
Somewhat these Arbours, and you trees do know,  
Whilst you kind shades, you to these night sports show.  
Night sports? Faith, they are done in open day,  
And the Sun seeth, and envieth their play.  
Hither have I Lovesick Antonius brought,  
And thrust him on occasion so long sought:  
Showed him the Empress in a thicket by,  
Her love's approach waiting with greedy Eye;  
And told him, if he ever meant to prove,  
The doubtful issue of his hopeless Love;  
This is the place, and time wherein to try it,  
Women will here the suit, that will deny it.  
The suit's not hard that she comes for to take;  
Who (hot in lust of men) doth difference make?  
At last, loath, willing, to her did he pace;  
Arm him Priapus, with thy powerful Mace.  
But see, they coming are; how they agree  
Here will I hearken, shroud me gentle tree.  Enter Poppea and Antonius. Anto. 
Seek not to grieve that heart which is thine own,  
In love's sweet fires, let heat of rage burn out;  
These brows could never yet to wrinkle learn,  
Nor anger out of such fair eyes look forth.  Poppea: 
You may solicit your presumptuous suits;  
You duty may, and shame too laid aside,  
Disturb my privacies, and I forsooth,  
Must be afeard even to be angry at you.  Anto: 
What shame is't to be mastered by such beauty?  
Who, but to serve you, comes, how wants he duty?  
Or if it be a shame, the shame is yours;  
The fault is only in your Eyes, they drew me;  
Cause you were lovely, therefore did I love:  
O, if to Love you, anger you so much,  
You should not have such cheeks, nor lips to touch,  
You should not have your snow, nor coral spied;  
If you but look on us, in vain you chide,  
We must not see your Face, nor hear your speech:  
Now, whilst you Love forbid, you Love do teach.  Pet. 
He doth better than I thought he would.  Pop: 
I will not learn my beauty's worth of you,  
I know you neither are the first, nor greatest  
Whom it hath moved: He whom the World obeys  
Is feared with anger of my threatning Eyes.  
It is for you afar off to adore it,  
And not to reach at it with saucy hands.  
Fear, is the Love that's due to Gods, and Princes  Pet. 
All this is but to edge his appetite.  Ant. 
O do not see thy fair in that false glass  
Of outward difference; Look into my heart,  
There, shalt thou see thyself, Enthroned set  
In greater Majesty, than all the pomp  
Of Rome, or Nero; 'tis not the crowching awe,  
And Ceremony, with which we flatter Princes,  
That can to love's true duties be compared.  Pop: 
Sir, let me go, or I'll make known your Love  
To them, that shall requite it, but with hate.  Pet. 
On, on, thou hast the goal, the fort is beaten,  
Women are won when they begin to threaten.  Anto. 
Your Nobleness doth warrant me from that,  
Nor need you others help, to punish me,  
Who, by your forehead am condemned, or free.  
They, that to be revenged do bend their mind,  
Seek always recompense, in that same kind  
The wrong was done them; Love was mine offence,  
In that revenge, in that seek recompense.  Popp. 
Further to answer, will still cause replies,  
And those as ill do please me, as yourself:  
If you'll an answer take, that's brief, and true,  
I hate myself, If I be loved of you. exit Popp.  Petro. 
What gone? but she will come again sure, no;  
It passeth clean my cunning, all my rules;  
For Women's wantonness there is no rule.  
To take her, in the itching of her Lust,  
A proper young man putting forth himself?  
Why Fate; There's Fate and hidden providence  
In cod piece matters.  Anto: 
O unhappy Man,  
What comfort have I now Petronius?  Pet. 
Counsel yourself, I'll teach no more but learn.  Ant. 
This comfort yet; He shall not so escape,  
Who causeth my disgrace, Nimphidius  
Whom had I here.— Well, For my true-hearts love  
I see she hates me; And shall I love one  
That hates me; and bestows what I deserve  
Upon my rival? no, Farewell Poppea,  
Farewell Poppea, and farewell all Love;  
Yet thus much shall it still prevail in me,  
That I will hate Nimphidius for thee:  Pet. 
Farewell to her, to my Enanthe welcome,  
Who, now, will to my burning kisses stoop,  
Now, with an easy cruelty deny,  
That, which she, rather than the asker, would  
Have forced from her, then begins herself.  
Their loves, that list upon great Ladies set;  
I still will love the Wench that I can get.  Exeunt. Enter Nero, Tigellinus, Epaphroditus and Neophilus. Nero: 
Tigellinus, said the villain Proculus  
I was thrown down in running?  Tigel: 
My Lord, he said that you were crowned for that  
You could not do.  Nero, 
For that I could not do?  
Why, Elis saw me do't, and do't with wonder  
Of all the judges, and the lookers on:  
And yet, to see, A villain? could not do't?  
Who did it better? I warrant you he said  
I from the Chariot fell against my will.  Tigil: 
He said my Lord, you were thrown out of it,  
All crushed, and maimed, and almost bruised to death.  Nero. 
Malicious Rogue, when I fell willingly,  
To show of purpose, with what little hurt  
Might a good rider bear a forced fall.  
How sayest thou? Tigillinus, I am sure  
Thou hast in driving as much skill as he.  Tigil: 
My Lord, you greater cunning showed in falling,  
Then had you sat.  Nero, 
I know I did; or bruised in my fall?  
Hurt! I protest I felt no grief in it.  
Go Tigillinus, fetch the villain's head,  
This makes me see his heart in other things?  
Fetch me his head, he ne'er shall speak again. ex. Tigil.  
What do we Princes differ, from the dirt,  
And baseness of the common Multitude,  
If to the scorn of each malicious tongue  
We subject are: For that I had no skill;  
Not he, that his far famed daughter set  
A prize to victory, and had been crowned  
With thirteen Suitors deaths, till he at length  
By fate of Gods, and servant's treason fell,  
(Shoulder packed Pelops glorying in his spoils,)  
Could with more skill his coupled horses guide.  
even as a Bark, that through the moving Flood.  
Her linen wings, and the forc't air do bear,  
The Billows foam, she smoothly cuts them through;  
So past my burning Axletree along,  
The people follow, with their eyes and voice,  
And now the wind doth see itself outrun,  
And the Clouds wonder to be left behind;  
Whilst the void air is filled with shouts and noise  
And Nero's name doth beat the brazen Sky,  
Jupiter cruying, loath doth hear my praise:  
Then there green boughs, and Crowns of Olive wreaths  
The conqueror's praise, they give me as my due,  
And yet this Rogue sayth no we have no skill.  Enter a servant to them. Servant, 
My Lord, the Stage, and all the furnitures  Nero: 
I have no skill to drive a Chariot:  
Had he but robbed me, broke my treasury,  
The read-sea's mine, mine are the Indian stones,  
The Worlds mine own, then, cannot I be robbed?  
But spitefully, to undermine my fame,  
To take away my art; he would my life  
As well, no doubt; could he told how.  Enter Tegillinus, with Proculus' head. Neoph: 
My Lord,  
Tegillinus is back come with Proculus' head strikes him.  Nero, 
O cry thee mercy good Neophitus;  
Give him five hundred sesterces for amends,  
Hast brought him Tegillinus?  Tegil: 
Here's his head my Lord.  Nero, 
His tongue had been enough,  Tegil: 
I did as you commanded me my Lord.  Nero, 
Thou toldst not me, though he had such a Nose.  
Now are you quiet, and have quieted me;  
This 'tis to be commander of the World,  
Let them extol weak pity that do need it,  
Let mean men cry to have Law, and justice done  
And tell their griefs to Heaven, that hears them not  
Kings must upon the people's headless courses  
Walk to security, and ease of mind.  
Why what have we to do with th'airy names  
(That old age, and Philosophers found out,)  
Of justice, and ne'er certain Equity;  
The God's revenge themselves, and so will we;  
Where right is scanned, authority is o'erthrown,  
We have a high prerogative above it;  
Slaves may do what is lust, we, what we please,  
The people will repine, and think it ill,  
But they must bear, and praise too, what we will.  Enter Cornutus to them. Neoph: 
My Lord, Cornutus whom you sent for's come.  Nero, 
Welcome good Cornutus  
Are all things ready for the Stage,  
As I gave charge.  Corn: 
They only stay your coming.  Nero, 
Cornutus, I must act today Orestus.  Cornu: 
You have done that already; and too truly— aside  Nero, 
And when our Scene is done, I mean beside  
To read some compositions of mine own,  
Which for the great opinion I myself,  
And Rome In general, of thy judgement, hath,  
Before I publish them, I'll show them thee.  Cornu: 
My Lord, my disabilities  Nero: 
I know thy modesty,  
I'll only show thee, now, my works beginning:  
Go see Epaphroditus,  
Music made ready, I will sing today. Exit Epa.  
Cornutus I pray thee, come near,  
And let me hear thy judgement in my pains;  
I would have thee more familiar good Cornutus,  
Nero doth prize desert, and more esteems  
Them, that in knowledge second him then power,  
Mark with what style, and state my work begins.  Cornu: 
Might not my Interruption offend  
What's your works name my Lord, what write you of?  Nero, 
I mean to write the deeds of all the Romans  Cornu: 
Of all the Romans? a huge argument  Nero, 
I have not yet bethought me of a Title  
You Enthrall Powers which the wide Fortune's doom he reads  
Of Empire crowned, seven Mountain-seated Rome  
Full blown; Inspire me with Machlaean rage,  
That I may bellow out Rome's Prentisage,  
As when the Maenads do fill their Drums  
And crooked horns with Mimalonean hum:  
And Ennion do Ingeminate a round  
Which reparable echo doth resound.  
How dost thou like our Muses pains Cornutus.  Cornu: 
The verses have more in them, than I see;  
Your work my Lord I doubt will be too long.  Nero, 
Too long?  Tigel: 
Too long?  Cornu: 
ay, If you write the deeds of all the Romans  
How many Books think you t'include it in?  Nero, 
I think to write about four hundred Books.  Cornu: 
four hundred? why my Lord they'll ne'er be read.  Nero, 
Hah?  Tigil: 
Why he, whom you esteem so much Crisippus,  
Wrote many more.  Cornu: 
But they were profitable to common life  
And did Men, Honesty, and Wisdom teach.  Nero: 
Tigillinus? Exit Nero & Tigeli.  Cornu: 
See with what earnestness he craved my judgement,  
And now he freely hath it, how it likes him?  Neoph: 
The Prince is angry, and his fall is near;  
Let us begone, lest we partake his ruins.  Exeunt omnes praeter Cornu, Manet Cornutus solus. 
What should I do at Court? I cannot lie;  
Why didst thou call me, Nero, from my Book?  
Didst thou for flattery of Cornutus' look?  
No, let those purple Fellows that stand by thee,  
(That admire show, and things that thou canst give,  
Leave to please Truth, and Virtue, to please thee.  
Nero, there's nothing in thy power, Cornutus  
Doth wish or fear.  Enter Tigellinus to him. Tigel: 
'tis Nero's pleasure that you straight depart  
To Giarae, and there remain confined:  
Thus he, out of his Princely Clemency,  
Hath Death, your due, turned but to banishment.  Cornu: 
Why Tigellinus?  Tigel: 
I have done, upon your peril go, or stay, ex Ti.  Cornu: 
And why should Death? or Banishment be due?  
For speaking, that which was required, my thought;  
O why do Princes love to be deceived?  
And, even, do force abuses on themselves?  
There Ears are so with pleasing speech beguiled,  
That Truth they malice, Flattery, truth account,  
And their own Soul, and understanding lost,  
Go (what they are) to seek in other men.  
Alas, weak Prince, how hast thou punished me,  
To banish me from thee? O let me go  
And dwell in Taurus, dwell in Aethiop,  
So that I do not dwell at Rome, with thee.  
The farther, still, I go from hence, I know,  
The farther I leave Shame and Vice behind.  
Where can I go, but I shall see thee, Sun?  
And Heaven will be as near me, still, as here.  
Can they, so far, a knowing soul exile,  
That her own roof she sees not o'er her head? Exit  Enter Piso, Scevinus, Lucan Flavius. Piso, 
Noble Gentlemen, what thanks, what recompense  
Shall he give you, that give to him the world;  
One life to them, that must so many venture,  
And that, the worst of all, is too mean pay;  
Yet can I give no more; Take that, bestow it  
Upon your service.  Lucan: 
O Piso, that vouchsafest,  
To grace our headless party with thy name;  
Whom, having our conductors, we need not  
Have feared to go again the well tried valour  
Of julius, or staidness of Augustus,  
Much less the shame, and Womanhood of Nero;  
When we had once, given out, that our pretences  
Were all for thee, our end, to make thee Prince,  
They thronging came to give their names, Men, Women,  
Gentlemen, People, Soldiers, Senators,  
The Camp, and City, grew ashamed that Nero,  
And Piso should be offered them together.  Sceu. 
We seek not now (as in the happy days  
O'th' common wealth they did, for liberty;  
O you, dear ashes, Cassius and Brutus  
That was with you entombed, there let it rest,  
We are contented with the galling yoke,  
If they will only leave us necks to bear it;  
We seek no longer freedom, we seek life  
At least, not to be murdered, let us die  
On Enemies swords; Shall we, whom neither  
The Median Bow, nor Macedonian Spear  
Nor the fierce Gaul, nor painted Briton could  
Subdue, lay down our necks to tyrant's axe?  
Why do we talk of Virtue, that obey  
Weakness, and Vice.  Piso: 
Have patience good Scevinus  Lucan: 
Weakness, and servile government we hitherto  
Obeyed have, which, that we may no longer,  
We have our lives, and fortunes now set up,  
And have our cause with Piso's credit strengthened.  Flaui: 
Which makes it doubtful, whether love to him  
Or Nero's hatred, hath drawn more unto us.  Piso: 
I see the good thoughts you have of me, Lords.  
let's now proceed to th' purpose of our meeting,  
I pray you take your places.  
let's have some Paper brought  Sceuin: 
whose's within  Enter Milichus to them. Meli. 
My Lord  Sceu. 
Some Ink, and Paper Exit Meli— & enter again with Ink, and Paper.  Flaui: 
whose's that Scevinus?  Sceui: 
It is my freed man Melichus.  Luca: 
Is he trusty?  Sceuin: 
I for as great matters, as we are about.  Piso: 
And those are great ones.  Luca: 
I ask not that we mean to need his trust.  
Gain hath great sovereignty o'er servile minds.  Sceui: 
O but my benefits have bound him to me.  
ay, from a bondman, have his state not only  
Advanced to freedom, but to wealth and credit.  Piso: 
Meli. waire i'th' next chamber tell we call. abscondit se  
The thing determined on our meeting now,  
Is of the means, and place, due circumstance,  
As to the doing of things 'tis required,  
So done it names the action.  Melis: 
I wonder,  
What makes this new resort to haunt our house,  
When wonted Lucius Piso to come hither?  
Or Lucan, when so oft, as now of late. aside  Piso: 
And since the field, and open show of arms  
Dislike you, and that for the general good,  
You mean to end all stirs, in end of him:  
That, as the ground, must first be thought upon.  Melic: 
Besides, this coming cannot be for form,  
Our visitation, they go aside, aside  
And have long conferences by themselves.  Luca: 
Piso, his coming to your house at Baiae  
To bathe, and banquet, will fit means afford,  
amidst his cups, to end his hated life,  
Let him die drunk, that ne'er lived soberly.  Pisa: 
O be it far, that I should stain my Table,  
And Gods of Hospitality with blood;  
Let not our cause (now Innocent) be soiled  
With such a blot, nor Piso's name made hateful.  
What place can better fit our action  
Then his own house? that boundless envied heap,  
Built with the spoils, and blood of Citizens  
That hath taken up the City, left no room  
For Rome to stand on; Romans get you gone  
And dwell at Uciae, If that Uciae too  
This house over run not.  Lucan. 
But 'twill be hard to do it in his house,  
And harder to escape being done.  Piso. 
Not so,  
Bufus the Captain of the Guard's with us,  
And diverse other o'th' Praetorian Band  
Already made; many, though unacquainted  
With our intents, have had disgrace and wrongs,  
Which grieve them still; most will be glad of change,  
And even they that loved him best, when once  
They see him gone, will smile o'th' coming times,  
Let go things past, and look to their own safety:  
Besides, th'astonishment and fear will be  
So great, so sudden, that 'twill hinder them  
From doing any thing.  Meli. 
No private business can concern them all; aside.  
Their countenances are troubled, and look sad,  
Doubt and Importance in their face is read.  Lucan. 
Yet still I think it were  
Safer t'attempt him private, and alone.  Flaui. 
But 'twill not carry that opinion with it,  
'twill seem more foul, and come from private malice.  
Brutus, and they, to right the common cause,  
Did choose a public place.  Serui. 
Our deed is honest, why should it seek corners?  
'tis for the people done, let them behold it;  
Let me have them a witness of my truth,  
And love toth' Commonwealth; The danger's greater,  
So is the glory. Why should our pale counsels  
Tend whether fear, rather than virtue calls them:  
I do not like these cold considerings;  
First, let our thoughts look up to what is honest,  
Next, to what's safe; If danger may deter us,  
Nothing that's great, or good shall ere be done;  
And, when we first gave hands upon this deed  
Tothth' commons safety, we our own gave up.  
Let not man venture on a PRINCE's death,  
How bad soever, with belief to escape;  
Despair must be our hope, fame, or reward.  
To make the general liking to concur  
With others, were even to strike him in his shame,  
Or (as he thinks) his glory, on the Stage,  
And so too truly make't a Tragedy;  
When all the people cannot choose but clap  
So sweet a close, and 'twill not Caesar be  
That shall be slain, a Roman Prince:  
'twill be Alemaeon, or blind Oedipus.  Meli. 
And if it be of public matters, 'tis not aside.  
Like to be talk, or idle fault finding,  
On which the coward only spends his wisdom:  
These are all men of action, and of spirit,  
And dare perform what they determine on.  Luca. 
What think you of Poppea, Tigellinus,  
And th'other odious Instruments of Court:  
Were it not best at once to rid them all?  Serui. 
In Caesar's ruin, Anthony was spared:  
let's not our cause with needless blood distain,  
One only moved, the change will not appear  
When too much licence given to the sword,  
Though against ill, will make even good men fear:  
Besides, things settled, you at pleasure may  
By Law, and public judgement have them rid.  Meli. 
And if it be but talk o'th' State, 'tis Treason,  
Like it they cannot, that they cannot do:  
If seek to mend it, and remove the Prince,  
That's highest Treason; change his Counsellors, aside.  
That's alteration of the government,  
The common cloak that Treasons muffled in;  
If laying force aside, to seek by suit,  
And fair petition, t'have the State reformed,  
That's tutoring of the Prince, and takes away,  
th'one his person, this his Sovereignty;  
Barely in private talk to show dislike  
Of what is done, is dangerous; therefore the action  
Mislike you, cause the doer likes you not?  
Men are not fit to live i'th' state they hate.  Piso. 
Though we would all have that employment sought,  
Yet, since your worthy forwardness, Servinvs,  
Prevents us, And so Nobly begs for danger:  
Be this the chosen hand to do the deed,  
The fortune of the Empire speed your sword.  Sceui: 
Virtue, and Heaven speed it; O you home-born  
Gods of our country, Romulus, and Vesta,  
That Tuscan Tiber, and Rome's towers defends:  
Forbid not yet at length a happy end  
To former evils; Let this hand revenge  
The wronged world; enough we now have suffered. exeunt.  Manet Melichus solus. Meli 
Tush, all this long consult's more than words,  
It ends not there; th'haue some attempt, some plot,  
Against the state: well, I'll observe it farther,  
And if I find it, make my profit of it. exeunt.  
Finis Actus Secundus.   

Actus Tertius.  Enter Poppea Solus. POppea: 
I looked Nimphidius would have come ere this,  
Makes he no greater haste to our embraces?  
Or, doth the easiness abate his edge?  
Or, seem we not as fair still as we did?  
Or, is he so with Nero's playing won,  
That he, before Poppea, doth prefer it?  
Or doth he think to have occasion still?  
Sill, to have time to wait on our stolen meetings?  Enter Nimphidius to her. Poppe: 
But see his presence now doth end those doubts,  
What is't Nimphidius hath so long detained you?  Nimph: 
Faith Lady, causes strong enough,  
High walls, bar doors, and guards of armed men.  Poppe: 
Were you Imprisoned, then, as you were going  
To the Theater.  Nimphi: 
Not in my going Lady,  
But, in the Theater, I was Imprisoned:  
For, after he was once upon the Stage,  
The Gates were more severely looked into  
Then at a town besieged; No man, no cause  
Was Currant, no, nor passant; At other sights  
The strife is only to get in, but here  
The stir was all, in getting out again;  
Had, we not been kept to it so, I think  
'twould ne'er have been so tedious, though I know,  
'Twas hard to judge, whether his doing of it  
Were more absurd, then 'twas for time to do it.  
But when we once were forced to be spectators,  
compelled to that, which should have been a pleasure,  
We could no longer bear the wearisomeness:  
No pain so irksome, as 'a forc't delight;  
Some fell down dead, or seemed at least to do so,  
Under that colour, to be carried forth,  
Then death first pleasured men, the shape all fear  
Was put on gladly, some climbed o'er the walls,  
And so, by falling caught in earnest that,  
Which th'other did dissemble; There were women,  
(That being not able to entreat the guard  
To let them pass the gates,) were brought to bed  
Amidst the throngs of men, and made Lucina  
Blush, to see that unwonted company.  Poppe: 
If 'twere so straightly kept, how got you forth?  Nimp: 
Faith Lady I came, pretending haste  
In Face and Countenance, told them I was sent  
For things, byth' Prince forgot about the scene,  
Which, both my credit made them to believe,  
And Nero, newly whispered me before.  
Thus did I pass the gates, the danger Lady  
I have not yet escaped.  Poppe: 
What danger mean you?  Nim: 
The danger of his anger, when he knows  
How I thus shrunk away, for there stood knaves  
That put down in their Tables all that stirred,  
And marked in each there cheerfulness, or sadness.  Poppe: 
I warrant I'll excuse you: But I pray,  
Let's be a little better for your sight;  
How did our Princely husband act Orestes?  
Did he not wish again his Mother living?  
Her death would add great life unto his part:  
But come I pray, the story of your sight.  Nim: 
O do not drive me to those hateful pains;  
Lady, I was too much in seeing vexed,  
Let it not be redoubled with the telling;  
I now am well, and hear, my ears set free;  
O be merciful, do not bring me back  
Unto my prison, at least free yourself,  
It will not pass away, but stay the time;  
Wrack out the hours in length; O give me leave,  
as one that wearied with the toil at sea,  
And now on wished shore hath firmed his foot;  
He looks about, and glads his thoughts and eyes,  
With sight o'th' green clothed ground, and leafy trees,  
Of flowers that beg more than the looking on,  
And likes these other waters narrow shores;  
So let me lay my weariness in these arms,  
Nothing but kisses to this mouth discourse,  
My thought be compassed in those circled Eyes;  
Eyes on no object look, but on those Cheeks;  
Be blessed my hands with touch of those round breasts,  
Whiter and softer than the down of Swans.  
Let me of thee, and of thy beauty's glory,  
And endless tell, but never wearying story. Exeunt.  Enter Nero, Ephaproditus, Neophilus. Nero: 
Come Sirs, i'faith, how did you like my acting?  
What? was't not as you looked for?  Epaph: 
Yes my Lord, and much beyond.  Nero: 
Did I not do it to the life?  Epaph: 
The very doing never was so lively  
As now this counterfeiting.  Nero: 
And when I came,  
Tothth' point of Agrippa, Clytaemnestra's death,  
Did it not move the feeling auditory?  Epaph: 
They had been stones, whom that could not have moaned.  Nero: 
Did not my voice hold out well to the end?  
And served me afterwards afresh to sing with.  Neoph: 
We know Apollo cannot match your voice.  Epaph: 
By jove, I think you are the God himself  
Come from above, to show your hidden arts;  
And fill us men with wonder of your skill.  Nero: 
Nay faith speak truly, do not flatter me;  
I know you need not: flattery's but where  
Desert is mean.  Epaph: 
I swear by thee O Caesar;  
Than whom no power of Heaven I honour more,  
No mortal voice can pass, or equal thine.  Nero: 
They tell of Orpheus, when he took his Lute,  
And moved the noble ivory with his touch:  
Hebrus stood still, Pangaea bowed his head,  
Ossa then first shook off his snow, and came  
To listen to the moouings of his song;  
The gentle Poplar, took the Oak along.  
And called the Pine down, from his Mountain seat:  
The Virgin Bay, although the Arts she hates  
o'th' Delphic God, was with his voice over come,  
He his twice-lost Eurydice bewails,  
And Proserpina's vain gifts, and makes the shores  
And hollow caves of forests now untreed  
Bear his grief company, and all things teacheth  
His lost love's name: Then water, air, and ground  
Eurydice, Eurydice, resound.  
These are bold tales, of which the Greeks have store;  
But if he could from Hell once more return,  
And would compare his hand and voice with mine,  
ay, though himself were judge, he then should see,  
How much the Latin stains the Thracian liar.  
I oft have walked by Tiber's flowing banks,  
And heard the Swan sing her own Epitaph  
When she heard me, she held her peace and died.  
Let others raise from earthly things their praise,  
Heaven hath stood still to hear my happy airs  
And ceased th'eternal Music of the Spheres  
To mark my voice, and mend their tunes by mine.  Neoph: 
O divine voice,  Epaph: 
Happy are they that hear it.  Enter Tigellinus to them. Nero: 
But here comes Tigellinus, come, thy bill,  
Are there so many; I see I have enemies.  Epaph: 
Have you put Caius in, I saw him frown  Neoph: 
And, in the midst o'th' Emperor's act on  
Gallus laughed out, and as I think in scorn.  Nero: 
Vespasian too asleep; was he so drowsy?  
Well, he shall sleep the Iron sleep of death  
And did Thracia look so sourly on us?  Tigil: 
He never smiled, my Lord, nor would vouchsafe  
With one applause to grace your action.  Nero: 
Our action needed not be graced by him,  
he's our old enemy, and still maligns us;  
'twill have an end, nay it shall have an end.  
Why, I have been too pitiful too remiss,  
My easiness is laughed at, and contemned,  
But I will change it; Not, as heretofore,  
By singling out them, one by one to death,  
Each common man can such revenges have;  
A PRINCE's anger must lay desolate  
Cities, Kingdoms consume, Root up mankind.  
O could I live to see the general end,  
Behold the world enwrapped in funeral flame,  
When, as the Sun shall lend his beams to burn  
What he before brought forth, and water serve,  
Not to extinguish but to guise the fire:  
Then, like the Salamander, bathing me  
In the last Ashes of all mortal things  
Let me give up this breath: Priam was happy,  
Happy indeed, he saw his Troy burned,  
And Ilion lie on heaps; Whilst thy pure streams,  
(Divine Scamander) did run Phrygian blood  
And heard the pleasant cries of Trojan Mothers.  
Could I see Rome, so?  Tigell: 
Your Majesty may easily,  
Without this trouble to your sacred mind.  Nero: 
What may I easily do? kill thee, or him,  
How may I rid you all? where is the Man  
That will all other's end, and last himself?  
O that I had thy Thunder in my hand,  
Thou idle Rover, I'll not shoot at trees,  
And spend in woods my unregarded vengeance,  
I'll shevire them down upon their guilty roofs,  
And fill the streets with bloody burials.  
But 'tis not Heaven can give me what I seek;  
To you, you hated kingdoms of the night,  
You severe powers, that not like those above,  
Will with fair words, or children's cries be won,  
That have a style beyond that Heaven is proud off,  
Deriving not from Art a maker's Name,  
But in destruction power, and terror show:  
To you I fly for succour: you, whose dwellings  
For torments are belied, must give me ease;  
Furies, lend me your fires, no they are here,  
They must be other fires; material brands  
That must the burning of my heat allay;  
I bring to you no rude unpractised hands,  
Already do they reek with mother's blood:  
Tush that's but innocents, to what now I mean,  
Alas what evil could those years commit,  
The world in this shall see my settled wit. exeunt.  Enter Seneca, Petronius. Senec: 
Petroneus, you were at the Theater.  Petron: 
Senica I was, and saw your kingly pupil  
In Minstrels habit, stand before the judges,  
Bowing those hands, which the world's Sceptre hold,  
And with great awe and reverence beseeching  
Indifferent hearing, and an equal doom:  
Then Caesar doubted first to be o'erborne,  
And so he joined himself to th'other singers,  
And straightly all other Laws o'th' Stage observed,  
As not (though weary) to sit down, not spit;  
Not wipe his sweat off, but with what he wore;  
Mean time how would he eye his adversaries,  
How he would seek t'have all they did disgrac't,  
Traduce them privily, openly rail at them:  
And them he could not conquer so, he would  
Corrupt with money, to do worse than he.  
This was his singing part, his acting now.  Senec: 
Nay even end here, for I have heard enough,  
I have a Fiddler heard him, let me not  
See him a Player, nor the fearful voice  
Of Rome's great Monarch, now command in jest  
Our Prince be Agamemnon in a Play.  Petron: 
Why Seneca, 'tis better in Play  
Be Agamemnon, than himself indeed;  
How oft, with danger of the field beset,  
Or with home mutinies, would he unbee  
Himself, or, over cruel altars weeping,  
Wish, that with putting off a vizard, he  
Might his true inward sorrow lie aside;  
The shows of things are better than themselves:  
How doth it stir this airy part of us,  
To hear our Poets tell imagined fights,  
And the strange blows, that feigned courage gives,  
When I Achilles hear upon the Stage  
Speak Honour, and the greatness of his soul;  
methinks I too, could on a Phrygian Spear  
Run boldly, and make tales for after times;  
But when we come to act it in the deed,  
Death mares this bravery, and the ugly fears  
Of th'other world, sit on the proudest brow,  
And boasting valour loseth his red cheek.  A Roman to them. Rom: 
Fire, fire, help, we burn.  2. Rom: 
Fire, water, fire help fire.  Senec: 
Fire, where?  Petron: 
Where? what fire.  Rom: 
O round about, here, there, on every side.  
The girdling flame, doth with unkind embraces  
Compass the City.  Petro: 
How came this fire, by whom?  Senec: 
Wast chance, or purpose?  Petro: 
Why is't not quenched?  Rom: 
Alas there are a many there with weapons,  
And whether it be for pray, or by command,  
They hinder: nay, they throw on firebrands.  Enter Antonius to them. Anton: 
The fire increaseth, and will not be stayed,  
But like a stream that tumbling from a hill,  
o'erwhelms the fields, o'erwhelms the hopeful toil  
o'th' husbandman, and headlong bears the woods;  
The unwitting Shepherd on a Rock afar,  
Amazed, hears the fearful noise; so here,  
Danger and Terror strive, which shall exceed,  
Some cry, and yet are well, some are killed silent,  
Some kindly run to help their neighbour's house,  
The whilst their own's afire: some save their goods,  
And leave their dearer pledges in the flame;  
One takes his little sons with trembling hands,  
Tother his house-Gods saves, which could not him,  
All ban the door, and with wishes kill  
Their absent murderer.  Petro: 
What? are the Gaules returned?  
Doth Brenius brandish firebrands again.  Senec: 
What can Heaven now unto our sufferings add.  Enter Another Roman to them. Rom: 
O all goes down, Rome falleth from the Roof,  
The wind's aloft, the conquering flame turns all  
Into itself; Nor do the God's escape,  
Pleidds burns, jupiter Stator burns.  
The Altar now is made a sacrifice;  
An Vesta mourns, to see her Virgin fires  
Mingle with profane ashes.  Senec: 
Heaven, hast thou set this end, to Roman greatness?  
Were the world's spoils, for this, to Rome divided,  
To make but our fires bigger?  
You Gods, whose anger made us great, grant yet  
Some change in misery; We beg not now,  
To have our Consul tread on Asian Kings,  
Or spurn the quivered Susa at their feet;  
This, we have had before; we beg to live,  
At least not thus to die; Let Cannos come,  
Let Allius' waters turn again to blood.  
To these will any miseries be light.  Petro: 
Why with false Auguries have we been deceived?  
Why was our Empire told us, should endure  
With Sun, and Moon, in time; in brightness pass them,  
And that our end should be o'th' world, and it.  
What, can Celestial Godheads double too?  Senec: 
O Rome, the envy late,  
But now, the pity of the world thee gets,  
The men of Choleos at thy sufferings grieve,  
The shaggy dweller in the Scythian Rocks;  
The most condemned to perpetual snow  
That never wept at kindred's burials,  
Suffers with thee, and feels his heart to soften.  
O, should the Parthian hear these miseries,  
He would, (his low and native hate apart)  
Sit down with us. and lend an enemy's tear,  
To grace the funeral fires of ending Rome. Exeunt.  Soft Music, Enter Nero above alone with a Timbrel. 
ay, now my Troy looks beauteous in her flames,  
The Tyrrhene Seas are bright with Roman fires,  
Whilst the amazed Mariner afar,  
Gazing on th'unknown light, wonders what star  
Heaven hath begot, to ease the aged Moon.  
When Pyrrhus, striding o'er the cinders, stood  
On ground, where Troy late was; and with his Eye  
Measured the height of what he had thrown down,  
A City, great in people, and in power:  
Walls built with hands of Gods; He now forgive  
The ten years' length, and thinks his wounds well healed,  
Bathed in the blood of Priam's fifty sons.  
Yet am not I appeased, I must see more  
Than Towers, and Columns tumble to the ground;  
'Twas not the high built walls, and guiltless stones  
That Nero did provoke; Themselves must be the wood  
To feed this fire, or quench it with their blood.  Enter a Woman with a burnt Child. Woman: 
O my dear Infant, O my Child, my Child;  
Unhappy comfort of my nine months' pains;  
And did I bear thee, only for the fire,  
Was I to that end made a Mother?  Nero: 
ay, now begins the scene that I would have.  Enter a Man bearing another dead. Man: 
O Father speak yet; no, the merciless blow  
Hath all bereft, speech, motion, sense, and life.  Woman: 
O beauteous innocence, whiteness ill blacked,  
How to be made a coal couldst thou deserve?  Man: 
O reverend wrinkles, well becoming paleness,  
Why hath death now life's colours given thee,  
And mocks thee with the beauties of fresh youth?  Woman: 
Why wert thou given me, to be ta'en away  
So soon, or could not Heaven tell how to punish  
But first by blessing me.  Man: 
Why were thy years lengthened so long,  
To be cut off untimely?  Nero: 
Play on, play on, and fill the golden skies  
With cries, and pity; with your blood; Men's Eyes.  Woman: 
Where are thy flattering smiles, thy pretty kisses,  
And arms, that wont to writhe about my neck?  Man. 
Where are thy Counsels, where their good example?  
And that kind roughness of a Father's anger?  Woman: 
Whom have I now to leave my old age on?  Man: 
Who shall I now have to set right my youth, within.  
God's if ye be not fled from Heaven help us.  Nero: 
I like this Music well; they like not mine:  
Now in the tears of all men, let me sing, Cantat.  
And make it doubtful to the Gods above;  
Whether the Earth be pleased, or do complain.  Man: 
But, may the man, that all this blood hath shed,  
Never bequeath to th'earth, an old grey head;  
Let him untimely be cut off before,  
And leave a course like this all wounds and gore.  
Be there no friend at hand, no standers by,  
In love, or pity moved, to close that Eye.  
O let him die the wish, and hate of all;  
And not a tear to grace his Funeral. exeunt.  Woman: 
Heaven, you will hear (that which the world doth scorn,)  
The prayers of misery, and souls forlorn:  
Your anger waxeth by delaying stronger,  
O now for mercy be despised no longer.  
Let him, that makes so many Mother's childless,  
Make his unhappy, in her fruitfulness.  
Let him no issue leave to bear his name  
Or some to right a Father's wronged fame,  
Our flames to quit; be righteous in your ire,  
And when he dies, let him want funeral fire. exeunt.  Nero: 
Let Heaven do what it will this I have done  
Already: do you feel my furies weight,  
Rome is become a grave of her late greatness;  
Her clouds of smoke have ta'en away the day,  
Her flames the night.  
Now unbelieving Eyes what crave you more?  Enter Neophilus to him. Neoph: 
O save yourself (my Lord) your Palace burns.  Nero: 
My Palace? how? what traitorous hand?  Enter Tigellinus to them. Tigel: 
O fly my Lord, and save yourself betimes,  
The wind doth beat the fire upon your house,  
The eating flame devours your double gates,  
Your pillars fall, your golden roofs do melt,  
Your antique Tables, and Greek Imagery:  
The fire besets, and the smoke you see  
Doth choke my speech, O fly, and save your life.  Nero: 
Heaven, thou dost strive, I see, for victory. exeunt.  Enter Nimphideus solus. 
See how Fate works unto their purposed end;  
And without all self-industry will raise,  
Whom they determine to make great and happy;  
Nero throws down himself, I stir him not,  
He runs unto destruction studies ways  
To compassed danger, and attain the hate  
Of all; be his own wish is on his head:  
Nor Rome with fire, more than revenges burns;  
Let me stand still, or lie, or sleep, I rise.  
Poppea some new favour will seek out  
My wakings to salute, I cannot stir,  
But messengers of new preferment meet me:  
Now, she hath made me Captain of the Guard,  
So well I bear me in these night alarms,  
That she imagined I was made for Arms;  
I now command the Soldier, he the City,  
If any chance do turn the Prince aside,  
(As many hatreds, mischiefs threaten him,)  
Ours is his wife, his seat and thrown is ours.  
He's next in right that hath the strongest powers. exit.  Enter Scevinus, Melechus. Sceui: 
O Troy, and O ye souls of our Forefathers,  
Which in your countries' fires were offered up,  
How near your Nephews, to your fortune's come:  
Yet they were Grecian hands began your flame;  
But that our Temples, and our houses smoke,  
Our Marble buildings turn to be our Tombs,  
Burnt bones and spurned at Courses fill the streets,  
Not Pyrrhus, nor thou Hannibal, art Author,  
Sad Rome is ruined by a Roman hand.  
But if to Nero's end, this only way  
heaven's justice hath chose out, and people's love  
Could not but by this feebling ills be moved;  
We do not then at all complain our harms,  
On this condition please us, let us die,  
And cloy the Parthian, with revenge and pity.  Melic: 
My Master hath sealed up his Testament,  
Those bondmen which he liketh best set free,  
Given money, and more liberally than he used:  
And now, as if a farewell to the world  
Were meant, A sumptuous banquet hath he made;  
Yet not with countenance that feasters use,  
But cheers his friends the whilst himself looks sad.  Scen: 
I have from fortunes Temple ta'en this sword,  
May it be fortunate, and now at least  
Since it could not prevent, punish the Evil;  
To Rome it had been better done before,  
But though less helping now, they'll praise it more.  
Great Sovereign of all mortal actions  
Whom only wretched men, and poet's blame,  
Speed thou the weapon, which I have from thee.  
'Twas not amidst thy Temple Monuments  
In vain reposed, somewhat I know 't hath done:  
O with new honours let it be laid up:  
Strike boldly, arm so many powerful prayers  
Of dead, and living hover over thee.  Melic: 
And though sometimes, with talk impertinent,  
And idle fances, he would feign a mirth;  
Yet is it easy seen, somewhat is here  
The which, he dares not let his face make show of.  Sceuin: 
Long want of loss hath made it dull, and blunt:  
See, Melichus, this weapon better edged.  Melic: 
sharpening of swords, when must we then have blows,  
Or means my Master, Cato-like, to exempt  
Himself from power of Fates, and cloyed with life,  
Give the God's back their unregarded gift,  
But he hath neither Cato's mind, nor cause;  
A man given over to pleasures, and soft ease:  
Which makes me still to doubt, how in affairs  
Of Princes he dares meddle, or desires?  Sceuin: 
We shall have blows on both sides, Melichus;  
Provide me store of clothes to bind up wounds;  
What an't be heart, for heart, Death is the worst;  
The Gods sure keep it, hide from us that live  
How sweet death is, because we should go on  
And be their bails: There are about the house  
Some stones that will staunch blood, see them set up:  
This world I see hath no felicity,  
I'll try the other.  Melic: 
Nero's life is soft,  
The sword's prepared against another's breast,  
The help for his; it can be no private foe,  
For then 'twere best to make it known, and call  
His troops of bond, and freed men to his aid:  
Besides his Counsellors, Seneca,  
And Lucan, are no Managers of quarrels.  Sceuin: 
methinks, I see him struggling on the ground,  
Hear his unmanly outcries, and lost prayers  
Made to the Gods, which turn their heads away.  
Nero, this day must end the world's desires,  
And headlong send thee, to unquenched fires. exit.  Melic: 
Why do I further idly stand debating,  
My proofs are but too many, and too pregnant,  
And PRINCE's Ears still to suspicions open:  
whoever, being but accused, was quit;  
For States are wise, and cut of ills that may be;  
Mean men must die, that tother may sleep sound,  
Chiefly, that rule, whose weakness apt to fears,  
And bad deserts of all men, makes them know  
There's none but is in heart, what he's accused. exit.  
Finis Actus Tertij.   

Actus Quartus.  Enter Nero, Poppaea, Nimphidius, Tigellinus, Neophitus, and Epaphroditus. Nero: 
THis kiss sweet love, I'll force from thee and this,  
And of such spoils, and victories be prouder,  
Than if I had the fierce Panonian,  
Or grey-eyed German ten times overcome.  
Let julius go, and fight at end o'th' world,  
And conquer from the wild inhabitants  
Their cold, and poverty; whilst Nero, here,  
Makes other wars, wars where the conquered gains,  
Where to o'ercome, is to be prisoner.  
O willingly, I give my freedom up;  
And put on my own chains;  
And am in love with my captivity;  
Such Venus is, when on the sand shore  
Of Xanthus or on Ida's pleasant green  
She leads the dance; Her, the nymphs all are we,  
And smiling graces do accompany.  
If Bacchus could his straggling Minion  
Grace, with a glorious wreath of shining Stars;  
Why should not Heaven my Poppaea Crown?  
The Northern team shall move into a round;  
New constellations rise, to honour thee;  
The Earth shall won thy favours, and the Sea  
Lay his rich shells, and treasure at thy feet.  
For thee, hidaspis' shall throw up his gold,  
Pauchaia breath the rich delightful smells,  
The Seres, and the feathered man of Ind  
Shall their fine arts, and curious labours bring:  
And where the sun's not known, Poppaea's name  
Shall midst their feasts, and barbarous pomp be sung.  Poppae: 
ay, now I am worthy to be Queen o'th' world,  
Fairer than Venus, or the Bacchus' love:  
But you'll anon, unto your cut-boy, Sporus,  
Your new made woman; to whom, now I hear  
You are wed led too.  Nero: 
I wedded?  Poppae: 
ay, you wedded;  
Did you not hear the words o'th' Auspices,  
Was not the boy in bridelike garments dressed,  
Marriage books sealed, as 'twere for issue, to  
Be had between you, solemn feasts prepared;  
While all the Court, with God-give you joy, sounds.  
It had been good Domitius your Father  
Had ne'er had other wife:  Nero: 
Your froward fool, y'are still so bitter, whose's that?  Enter Melichus to them. Nimph: 
One that it seems, my Lord, doth come in haste.  Nero: 
Yet in his face he sends his tale before him,  
Bad news thou tellest.  Melic: 
'Tis bad I tell, but good that I can tell it,  
Therefore your Majesty will pardon me,  
If I offend your ears to save your life.  Nero: 
Why, is my life endangered?  
How ends this circumstance, thou wrack'st my thoughts.  Meli: 
My Lord your life is conspired against,  Nero: 
By whom?  Meli; 
I must be of the world excused in this,  
If the great duty to your Majesty:  
Makes me all other lesser to neglect.  Nero: 
thouart a tedious fellow, speak, by whom?  Melic: 
By my Master.  Nero; 
Who's thy Master?  Meli: 
Scevinus.  Poppae: 
Scevinus, why should he conspire?  
Unless he think, that likeness in conditions  
May make him too, worthy o'th' Empire thought.  Nero: 
Who are else in it?  
I think Natalis, Subius, Flavius,  
Lucan, Seneca, and Lucius Piso,  
Asper, and Quintilianus.  Nero: 
Ha done,  
thou'lt reckon all Rome anon and so thou mayst,  
theyare villains all, I'll not trust one of them;  
O that the Romans had but all one neck.  Poppae: 
Piso's she creeping into men's affections.  
And popular arts, have given long cause of doubt,  
And th'other's late observed discontents  
Risen from misinterpreted disgraces,  
May make us credit this relation.  Nero: 
Where are they? come they not upon us yet?  
See the Guard doubted, see the Gates shut up.  
Why, they'll surprise us in our Court anon.  Meli: 
Not so my Lord, they are at Piso's house,  
And think themselves, yet safe, and undescried.  Nero: 
let's thither then,  
And take them in this false security;  Tigel: 
'Twere better first publish them traitors.  Nymph: 
That were to make them so,  
And force them all upon their Enemies;  
Now, without stir, or hazard they'll be ta'en,  
And boldly trial dare, and law demand;  
Besides, this accusation may be forged  
By malice or mistaking.  Poppe: 
What likes you, do Nimphidius, out of hand,  
Two ways distract, when either would prevail;  
If they suspecting but this fellow's absence,  
Should try the City, and attempt their friends,  
How dangerous might Piso's favour be.  Nimph: 
I to himself would make the matter clear,  
Which now upon one servant's credit stands:  
The City's favour keeps within the bonds  
Of profit they'll love none, to hurt themselves;  
Honour, and friendship they hear others name,  
Themselves do neither feel, nor know the same;  
To put them yet, (though needless) in some fear,  
we'll keep their streets with armed companies:  
Then if they stir, they see their wives, and houses  
Prepared a prey to th' greedy Soldier.  Poppe: 
Let us be quick then, you, to Piso's house,  
While I, and Tigellinus further sift  
This fellow's knowledge. Ex. omnes Praetor Nero.  Nero: 
Look to the gates, and walls o'th' City, look  
The river be well kept, have watches set  
In every passage, and in every way;  
But who shall watch these watches, what if they  
Begin, and play the Traitors first? O where shall I  
Seek faith, or them that I may wisely trust?  
The City favours the conspirators,  
The Senate, in disgrace, and feat hath lived;  
The Camp, why most are soldiers that be named  
Besides, he knows not all; and like a fool  
I interrupted him, else had he named  
Those that stood by me; O security.  
Which we so much seek after, yet art still  
To Courts a stranger, and dost rather choose,  
The smoky reeds, and sedgy cottages,  
Than the proud roofs, and wanton cost of Kings.  
O sweet despised joys of poverty,  
A happiness unknown unto the Gods:  
Would I had rather in poor Gallij been,  
Or Ulubrae, a ragged Magistrate,  
Sat as a judge of measures, and of corn,  
Than the adored Monarch of the world.  
Mother, thou didst deservedly in this,  
That from a private, and sure state, didst raise  
My fortunes, to this slippery hill of greatness;  
Where I can neither stand, nor fall with life. Exit.  Enter Piso, Lucan, Scevinus, Flavius. Flau: 
But since we are discovered, what remains?  
But put our lives upon our hands, these swords  
Shall try us Traitors, or true Citizens.  Sceui: 
And what should make this hazard doubt success,  
Stout men are oft with sudden onsets daunted,  
What shall this Stage-player be?  Luc: 
It is not now,  
Augustus' gravity, nor Tiberius' craft,  
But Tigellinus, and Crisogorus  
eunuchs, and women that we go against.  Sceui: 
This for thy own sake, this for ours we beg,  
That thou wilt suffer him to be o'ercome;  
Why shouldst thou keep so many vowed swords  
From such a hated throat?  Flaui: 
Or shall we fear,  
To trust unto the Gods so good a cause.  Luca: 
By this we may, ourselves heavens' favour promise,  
Because all nobleness, and worth on earth  
We see's on our side; Here the Faby's son,  
Here the Corvini are, and take that part;  
There noble Fathers would, if now they lived;  
There's not a soul that claims Nobility  
Either by his, or his forefather's merit,  
But is with us; with us the gallant youth  
Whom passed dangers, or hot blood makes bold:  
Stayed men suspect their wisdom, or their faith,  
To whom our counsels we have not revealed.  
And while (our party seeking to disgrace)  
They traitors call us, Each man treason praiseth,  
And hateth faith, when Piso is a traitor.  Sceui: 
And at adventurer what by stoutness can  
Befall us worse, then will by cowardice?  
If both the people, and the soldier failed us,  
Yet shall we die at least worthy ourselves,  
Worthy our ancestors: O Piso think,  
Think on that day, when in the Parthian fields  
Thou cried'st to th' flying Legions to turn,  
And look Death in the face; he was not grim,  
But fair and lovely, when he came in arms.  
O why, there died we not on Syrian swords?  
Were we reserved to prisons, and to chains.  
Behold the Galley-asses in every street,  
And even now they come to clap on irons;  
Must Piso's head be showed upon a pole?  
Those members torn; rather then Roman-like,  
And Piso-like, with weapons in our hands  
Fighting, in throng of enemies to die:  
And that it shall not be a civil war  
Nero prevents, whose cruelty hath left  
Few Citizens; we are not Romans now,  
But moors, and Jews, and utmost Spaniards,  
And Asia's refuge that do fill the City.  Piso: 
Part of us are already taken, the rest  
Amazed, and seeking holes; Our hidden ends  
You see laid open, Court, and City armed,  
And for fear joining to the part they fear.  
Why should we move desperate, and hopeless arms  
And vainly spill that noble blood, that should  
Crystal Rubes, and the Median fields,  
Not Tiber colour: And the more your show be  
Your loves, and readiness to lose your lives,  
The loather I am to adventure them.  
Yet am I proud, you would for me have died,  
But live, and keep yourselves to worthier ends;  
No Mother but my own shall weep my death,  
Nor will I make by overthrowing us,  
Heaven guilty of more faults, yet from the hopes,  
Your own good wishes, rather than the thing  
Do make you see, this comfort I receive  
Of death unforced. O friends, I would not die  
When I can live no longer; 'Tis my glory,  
That free, and willing I give up this breath,  
Leaving such courages as yours untried.  
But to belong in talk of dying, would  
Show a relenting, and a doubtful mind:  
By this you shall my quiet thoughts intend;  
I blame nor Earth, nor Heaven for my end. He dies.  Lucan: 
O that this noble courage had been shown,  
Rather on enemy's breasts, then on thy own.  Sceui: 
But sacred, and inviolate be thy will,  
And let it lead, and I teach us;  
This sword I could more willingly have thrust  
Through Nero's breast; That, fortune denied me,  
It now shall through Scevinus.  Enter Tigellinus solus. 
What multitudes of villains are here gotten  
In a conspiracy; which Hydra like,  
Still in the cutting off, increaseth more.  
The more we take, the more are still appeach,  
And every man brings in new company.  
I wonder what we shall do with them all,  
The prisons cannot hold more than they have,  
The jails are full, the holes with Gallants stink,  
Straw and gold lace together live I think:  
'Twere best even shut the gates o'th' City up,  
And make it all one jail; for, this I am sure,  
There's not an honest man within the walls:  
And though the guilty doth exceed the free;  
Yet through a base, and fatal cowardice,  
They all assist, in taking one another,  
And by their own hands are to prison led.  
There's no condition, nor degree of men,  
But here are met; Men of the sword, and gown,  
plebeians, Senators, and women too,  
Ladies that might have slain him with their Eye,  
Would use their hands, Philosophers,  
And Politicians; Politicians?  
Their plot was laid too short; Poets would now,  
Not only write, but be the arguments  
Of Tragedies: The emperor's much pleased:  
But some have named Seneca, and I  
Will have Petroneus, one promise of pardon,  
Or fear of torture, will accusers find. exit.  Enter Nimphidius, Lucan, Sceuinus, with a guard. Nimph: 
Though Piso's suddenness, and guilty hand  
Prevented hath the death he should have had;  
Yet you abide it must.  Luca: 
O may the earth lie lightly on his Course,  
Sprinkle his ashes with your flowers and tears,  
The love and dainties of Mankind is gone.  Sceui: 
What only now we can, we'll follow thee  
That way thou leadest, and wait on thee in death,  
Which we had done, had not these hindered us.  Nimph: 
Nay, other ends your grievous crimes await,  
Ends which the law and your deserts exact.  Sceui: 
What have we deserved?  Nimph: 
That punishment that traitors unto Princes,  
And enemies to the State they live in merit.  Sceuin: 
If by the State, this government you mean,  
I justly am an enemy unto it.  
That's but to Nero, you, and Tigellinus:  
That glorious world, that even beguiles the wise,  
Being looked into, includes but three, or four.  
Corrupted men, which were they all removed,  
'Twould for the common State much better be.  Nimph: 
Why, what can you i'th' government mislike?  
Unless it grieve you, that the world's in peace,  
Or that our arms conquer without blood.  
Hath not his power with foreign visitations,  
And stranger's honour more acknowledged been,  
Than any was afore him? Hath not he  
Disposed of frontier kingdoms, with success,  
Given away Crowns, whom he set up, prevailing?  
The rival seat of the Arsacidae,  
That thought their brightness equal unto ours,  
Is't crowned by him by him, doth reign?  
If we have any war, it's beyond Rhene,  
And Euphrates, and such whose different chances  
Have rather served for pleasure, and discourse,  
Then troubled us; At home the City hath  
Increased in wealth, with building been adorned;  
The arts have flourished, and the Muses sung,  
And that, his justice, and well tempered reign,  
Hath the best judges pleased, the powers divine;  
Their blessings, and so long prosperity  
Of th' Empire under him, enough declare.  Sceui: 
You freed the State from wars abroad, but 'twas  
To spoil at home more safely, and divert  
The Parthian enmity on us, and yet,  
The glory rather, and the spoils of war  
Have wanting been, the loss, and charge we have.  
Your peace is full of cruelty, and wrong,  
Laws taught to speak to present purposes,  
Wealth, and fair houses dangerous faults become,  
Much blood i'th' City, and no common deaths,  
But Gentlemen, and Consulary houses:  
On Caesar's own house look, hath that been free?  
Hath he not shed the blood he calls divine?  
Hath not that nearness which should love beget  
Always on him, been cause of hate, and fear;  
Virtue, and power suspected, and kept down:  
They whose great ancestors this Empire made,  
Distrusted in the government thereof;  
A happy state, where Decius is a traitor,  
Narcissus true, nor only waste unsafe  
T'offend the Prince, his freed men worse were feared,  
whose wrongs with such insulting pride were heard,  
That even the faulty it made innocent:  
If we complained, that was itself a crime,  
ay, though it were to Caesar's benefit;  
Our writings pried into, false guiltiness  
(Thinking each taxing pointed out itself)  
Our private whisperings listened after; nay,  
Our thoughts were forced out of us, and punished:  
And had it been in you, to have taken away  
Our understanding, as you did our speech,  
You would have made us thought this honest too?  Nimph: 
Can malice narrow eyes,  
See anything yet more it can traduce.  Sceui: 
His long continued taxes I forbear,  
In which he chiefly showed him to be Prince,  
His robbing Altars, sale of Holy things,  
The Antique Goblets of adored rust,  
And sacred gifts of Kings, and people sold.  
Nor was the spoil more odious, than the use,  
They were employed on, spent on shame, and lust  
Which still have been so endless in their change,  
And made us know a diverse servitude.  
But that he hath been suffered so long,  
And prospered, as you say: for that, to thee  
O Heaven, I turn myself, and cry; No God  
Hath care of us, yet have we our revenge,  
As much as Earth may be revenged on Heaven;  
Their divine honour Nero shall usurp,  
And prayers, and feasts, and adoration have,  
As well as jupiter.  Nimph: 
Away blaspheming tongue  
Be ever silent for thy bitterness,  Exeunt. Enter Nero, Poppaea, Tigellinus, Flavius, Neophilus, Epaphroditus, and a young man. Nero: 
What could cause thee,  
Forgetful of my benefits, and thy oath,  
To seek my life.  Flaui: 
Nero, I hated thee;  
Nor was there any of thy soldiers  
More faithful, while thou faith deserved'st than I,  
Together did I leave to be a subject,  
And thou a Prince, Caesar was now become  
A player on the Stage, a Waggoner,  
A burner of our houses, and of us,  
A Parricide of Wife, and Mother.  Tigel: 
Villain dost know where, & of whom thou speakst?  Nero: 
Have you but one death for him, let it be  
A feeling one (Tigellinus) be't  
Thy charge, and let me see thee witty in't.  Tigell: 
Come sirrah  
we'll see how stoutly you'll stretch out your neck.  Flaui: 
would thou durst strike as stoutly, Ex. Tig. & Flau:  Nero: 
And what's he there?  Epaph: 
One that in whispering o'erheard  
What pity 'twas, my Lord, that Piso died.  Nero: 
And why was't pity sirrah, Piso died?  Young: 
My Lord 'twas pity he deserved to die.  Poppae: 
How much this youth, my Otho doth resemble;  
Otho, my first, my best love, who is now  
(Under pretext of governing) exiled  
To Lucitania, honourably banished.  Nero: 
Well, if you be so passionate,  
I'll make you spend your pity on your Prince,  
And good men, not on traitors.  Young: 
The Gods forbid my Prince should pity need.  
Somewhat, the sad remembrance did me stir  
Oath frail and weak condition of our kind,  
Somewhat his greatness; than whom yesterday,  
The world, but Caesar could show nothing higher;  
Besides, some virtues, and some worth he had,  
That might excuse my pity, to an end  
So cruel, and unripe.  Poppae: 
I know not how this stranger moves my mind,  
His face methinks is not like other men's,  
Nor do they speak thus; Oh, his words invade  
My weakened senses, and overcome my heart.  Nero: 
Your pity shows, your favour and your will  
Which side you are inclined too, had your power,  
You can but pity, else should Caesar fear,  
Your ill affection then shall punished be.  
Take him to execution, he shall die,  
That the death pities of mine enemy.  Young: 
This benefit at least.  
Sad death shall give, to free me from the power  
Of such a government; and if I die  
For pitying humane chance, and Piso's end,  
There will be some too, that will pity mine.  Poppa: 
O what a dauntless look, what sparkling eyes,  
Threating in suffering; sure some noble blood  
Is hid in rags, fears argues a base spirit  
In him what courage, and contempt of death,  
And shall I suffer one I love to die?  
He shall not die? hands of this man, away,  
Nero, thou shalt not kill this guiltless man.  Nero: 
He guiltless, strumpet. Spurns her and Poppaa falls.  
She's in love with the smooth face of the boy.  Neoph. 
Alas my Lord you have slain her.  Epaph: 
Help she dies.  Nero: 
Poppaa, Poppaa, speak, I am not angry,  
I did not mean to hurt thee, speak sweet love.  Neoph: 
she's dead my Lord.  Nero: 
Fetch her again, she shall not die,  
I'll ope the Iron gates of hell,  
And break the imprisond shadows of the deep,  
And force from death this far too worthy prey,  
She is not dead.  
The crimson red, that like the morning shone,  
When from her windows, (all with Roses strewed,)  
She peepeth forth forsakes not yet her cheeks,  
Her breath, that like a honeysuckle smelled  
twining about the prickled Eglintine,  
Yet moves her lips; those quick, and piercing eyes,  
That did in beauty challenge heaven's eyes  
Yet shine as they were wont: O no they do not,  
See how they grow obscure: O see, they close,  
And cease to take, or give light to the world.  
What stars soe'er you are assured to grace  
The firmament, (for lo the twinkling fires  
Together throng, and that clear milky space  
Of storms, and Phiades, and thunder void,  
Prepares your room,) do not with wry aspect  
Look on your Nero, who in blood shall mourn  
Your luckless fate; And many a breathing soul,  
Send after you to wait upon their Queen;  
This shall begin, the rest shall follow after,  
And fill the streets with outcries, and with slaughter. Ex.  Enter Seneca, with two of his friends. Senec: 
What means your mourning, this ungrateful sorrow?  
Where are your precepts of Philosophy?  
Where our prepared resolution,  
So many years fore-studied against danger?  
To whom is Nero's cruelty unknown?  
Or what remained after mother's blood,  
But his instructor's death? Leave, leave these tears,  
Death from me nothing takes, but what's a burden,  
A clog, to that free spark of Heavenly fire:  
But that in Seneca, the which you loved,  
Which you admired, doth, and shall still remain  
Secure of death, untouched of the grave.  1. Friend. 
we'll not belie our tears, we wail not thee,  
It is ourselves, and our own loss we grieve;  
To thee, what loss in such a change can be,  
Virtue is paid her due, by death alone;  
To our own losses do we give these tears,  
That lose thy love, thy boundless knowledge lose,  
Lose the unpatterned sample of thy virtue,  
Lose whatsoe'er may praise, or sorrow move;  
In all these losses, yet of this we glory,  
That 'tis thy happiness that makes us sorry.  2. Friend. 
If there be any place for Ghosts of good men,  
If (as we have been long taught) great men's souls  
Consume not with their bodies, thou shalt see,  
(Looking from out the dwellings of the air)  
True duties to thy memory performed;  
Not in the outward pomp of funeral,  
But in remembrance of thy deeds, and words,  
The oft recalling of thy many virtues,  
The Tomb, that shall th'eternal relics keep  
Of Seneca, shall be his hearers hearts.  Senec: 
Be not afraid my soul, go cheerfully,  
To thy own Heaven, from whence it first let down,  
Thou loath by this imprisoning flesh putst on,  
Now lifted up, thou ravished shalt behold  
The truth of things, at which we wonder here,  
And foolishly do wrangle on beneath;  
And like a God shalt walk the spacious air,  
And see what even to conceit's denied.  
Great soul o'th' world, that through the parts defused  
Of this vast All, guid'st what thou dost inform;  
You blessed minds, that from the Spheres you move,  
Look on men's actions not with idle eyes;  
And Gods we go to, Aid me in this strife,  
And combat of my flesh, that ending, I  
May still show Seneca, and myself die.  Exeunt. Enter Antonius, Enanthe. Anto: 
Sure this message of the Princes,  
So grievous and unlooked for, will appall  
Petronius much.  Enan: 
Will not death any man?  Anto: 
It will; but him so much the more,  
That having lived to his pleasure; shall forgo  
So delicate a life, I do not marvel  
That Seneoa, and such sour fellows, can  
Leave that they ne'er tasted: But when we  
That have the Nectar of thy kisses felt,  
That drinks away the troubles of this life,  
And but one banquet make of forty years,  
Must come to leave this: but soft, here he is.  Enter Petroneus, and a Centurion. Petron: 
Leave me a while, Centurion to my friends,  
Let me my farewell take, and thou shalt see,  
Nero's commandment quickly obeyed in me. ex. Centurion.  
Come let us drink, and dash the posts with wine;  
Here throw your flowers; fill me a swelling bowl,  
Such as Maecenas, or my Lucan drank  
On Virgil's birth day.  Enan: 
What means (Petroneus) this unseasonable,  
And causeless mirth? Why, comes not from the Prince  
This man to you, a messenger of death,  Petro: 
Here fair Enanthe, whose plump ruddy cheek  
Exceeds the grape, it makes this; here my girl. He drinks.  
And thinkst thou death, a matter of such harm,  
Why, he must have this pretty dimpling chin,  
And will peck out those eyes that now so wound.  Enan: 
Why, is it not th'extremest of all ills?  Petro: 
It is indeed the last, and end of ills;  
The Gods, before they'd let us taste deaths joys,  
Placed us i'th' toil, and sorrows of this world,  
Because we should perceive th'amends, and thank them,  
Death, the grim knave, but leads you to the door,  
Where entered once, all curious pleasures come  
To meet, and welcome you.  
A troop of beauteous Ladies from whose eyes,  
Love, thousand arrows, thousand graces' shoots;  
Puts forth their fair hands to you, and invites  
To their green arbours, and close shadowed walls,  
Whence, banished is the roughness of our years:  
Only the west wind blows; i'th' ever Spring,  
And ever Summer: There the laden bows  
Offer their tempting burdens to your hand,  
Doubtful your eye, or taste inviting more:  
There every man his own desires enjoys;  
Fair lucrece lies, by lusty Tarquin's side,  
And woos him now again to ravish her.  
Nor us, (though Roman) Lais will refuse,  
To Corinth any man may go; no mask,  
No envious garment doth those beauties hide,  
Which Nature made, so moving, to be spied,  
But in bright Crystal, which doth supply all,  
And white transparent veils they are attired,  
Through which the pure snow underneath doth shine;  
(Can it be snow, from whence such flames arise?)  
Mingled with that fair company, shall we  
On banks of Violets, and of hyacinths  
Of loves devising, sit, and gently sport,  
And all the while melodious Music hear,  
And poet's songs, that Music far exceed  
The old Anaicean crowned with smiling flowers,  
And amorous Sapho, on her Lesbian Lute  
Beauty's sweet Scars, and Cupid's godhead sing,  Anto: 
What, be not ravished with thy fancies, do not  
Court nothing nor make love unto our fears.  Petro: 
is't nothing that I say?  Anto: 
But empty words.  Petro: 
Why, thou requirest some instance of the eye,  
Wilt thou go with me then, and see that world?  
Which either will return thy old delights;  
Or square thy appetite anew to theirs.  Anto: 
Nay; I had rather far believe thee here,  
Others ambition such discoveries seek;  
Faith, I am satisfied with the base delights  
Of common men; A wench, a house I have,  
And of my own a garden, I'll not change,  
For all your walks, and Ladies, and rare fruits.  Petro: 
Your pleasures must of force resign to these,  
In vain you shun the sword, in vain the sea,  
In vain is Nero feared, or flattered;  
Hither you must, and leave your purchased houses,  
Your new made garden, and your black browed wife,  
And of the trees thou hast so quaintly set;  
Not one, but the displeasant Cypress shall  
Go with thee.  Anton: 
Faith 'tis true, we must at length,  
But yet Petroneus, while we may, awhile  
We would enjoy them, those we have, w'are sure of,  
When that you talk of 's doubtful, and to come.  Petro: 
Perhaps thou thinkst to live yet twenty years,  
Which may unlooked for be cut off, as mine,  
If not, to endless time compared, is nothing  
What you endure must ever, endure now;  
Nor stay not, to be last at table set,  
Each best day of our life at first doth go,  
To them succeeds diseased age, and woe;  
Now die your pleasures, and the days your prey  
Your rhymes, and loves, and jests will take away.  
Therefore my sweet, yet thou wilt go with me,  
And not live here, to what thou wouldst not see.  Enan: 
Would y'have me then kill myself, and die,  
And go I know not to what places there.  Petro: 
What places dost thou fear?  
they'll favoured lake they tell thee thou must pass.  
And thy black frogs that croak about the brim.  Enan: 
O pardon Sir, though death affrights a woman;  
Whose pleasures, though you timely here divine,  
The pains we know, and see,  Petron: 
The pain is life's, death rids that pain away,  
Come boldly, there's no danger in this ford,  
Children pass through it: If it be a pain,  
You have this comfort, that you passed it are.  Enan: 
Yet all as well as I, are loath to die.  Petron 
Judge them by deed, you see them do't apace  Enan: 
ay, but 'tis loathly, and against their wills.  Petro. 
Yet, know you not that any being dead,  
Repented them, and would have lived again,  
They then there errors saw, and foolish prayers,  
But you are blinded in the love of life,  
Death is but sweet to them that do approach it  
To me as one that taken with Delphic rage,  
When the divining God his breast doth fill,  
He sees what others cannot standing by,  
It seems a beauteous, and a pleasant thing;  
Where is my death's Physician?  Phisi: 
Here my Lord.  Petro: 
Art ready?  Phisi: 
I my Lord.  Petro; 
And I for thee:  
Nero, my end shall mock thy tyranny. Exeunt  
Finis Actus Quarti.   

Actus Quintus.  Enter Nero, Nimphidius Tigellinus, Neophilus, Epaporoditus, and other attendants. Nero: 
ENough is wept, Poppaea, for thy death,  
Enough is bled, so many tears of others  
Wailing their losses have wiped mine away  
Who in the common funeral of the world  
Can mourn on death?  Tigell: 
Besides, your Majesty this benefit  
In their deserved punishment shall reap  
From all attempts hereafter to be freed,  
Conspiracy is now for ever dashed,  
Tumult suppressed, rebellion out of heart;  
In Piso's death, danger itself did die.  Nimph: 
Piso that thought to climb by bowing down,  
By giving a way to thrive, and raising others  
To become great himself, hath now by death  
Given quiet to your thoughts, and fear to theirs  
That shall from treason their advancement plot;  
Those dangerous heads, that his ambition leaned on,  
And they by it crept up, and from their meanness  
Thought in this stir to rise aloft, are off:  
Now peace, and safety wait upon your throne;  
Security hath walled your seat about,  
There is no place for fear left.  Nero: 
Why, I never feared them.  Nimph: 
That was your fault.  
Your Majesty must give us leave to blame  
Your dangerous courage, and that noble soul  
Too prodigal of itself.  Nero: 
A PRINCE's mind knows neither fear, nor hope,  
The beams of royal Majesty are such,  
As all eyes are with it amazed, and weakened,  
But it with nothing; I at first contemned  
Their weak devices, and faint enterprise:  
Why, thought they against him to have prevailed,  
Whose childhood was from messalina's spite  
By Dragons, (that the earth gave up) preserved,  
Such guard my cradle had; for fate had then  
Pointed me out, to be what now I am.  
Should all the Legions, and the provinces  
In one united, against me conspire:  
I could disperse them with one angry eye.  
My brow's an host of men; Come Tigellinus,  
Let turn this bloody banquet, Piso meant us,  
Unto a merry feast, we'll drink and challenge  
Fortune; whose's that Neophilus?  Enter a Roman. Neoph: 
A Currier from beyond the Alps my Lord.  Nero: 
News of some German victory belike,  
Or Britton overthrow.  Neoph: 
The Letters come from France.  Nimp: 
Why smiles your Majesty?  Nero: 
So I smile, I should be afraid there's one  
In Arms Nimphidius.  Nimp: 
What armed against your Majesty?  Nero: 
Our Lieutenant of the Province, julius Vindex.  Tigell: 
Who, that giddy Frenchman?  Nimp: 
His Province is disarmed my Lord, he hath  
No legion, not a soldier under him.  Epaph: 
One that by blood, and rapine would repair  
His state consumed in vanities, and lust.  Enter another Roman. Tigell: 
He would not find out three to follow him.  A mess: 
More news my Lord.  Nero: 
Is it of Vindex that thou hast to say?  Mess: 
Vindex is up, and with him France in Arms.  
The Noble men, and people throng to th' cause,  
Money, and Armour, Cities do confer,  
The country doth send in provision  
Young men bring bodies, old men lead them forth,  
Ladies do coin their jewels into pay,  
The sickle now is framed into a sword,  
And drawing horses are to manage taught,  
France nothing doth but war, and fury breath.  Nero: 
All this fierce talks, but Vindex doth rebel,  
And I will hang him.  Tigell. 
How long came you forth after the former messenger.  Mess: 
four days, but by the benefit of sea,  
and weather, am arrived with him.  Neoph. 
How strong was Vindex at your coming forth?  Mess: 
He was esteemed a hundred thousand.  Tigell: 
Men enough,  Nimph. 
And soldiers few enough.  
Tumultuary troops, undisciplined,  
Untrained in service, to waste victuals good,  
But when they come to look on wars black wounds,  
And but afar off see the face of death.  Nero: 
It falls out for my empty coffers well,  
The spoil of such a large and goodly Province,  
Enriched with trade, and long enjoyed peace.  Tigell: 
What order will your Majesty have taken  
For levying forces to suppress this stir?  Nero: 
What order should we take? we'll laugh, & drink,  
Thinkst thou it fit my pleasures be disturbed  
When any Frenchman list to break his neck?  
They have not heard of Piso's Fortune yet,  
Let that Tale fight with them.  Nimph. 
What order needs: your Majesty shall find  
This French heat quickly of itself grow cold.  Nero. 
Come away.  
Nothing shall come that this night's sport shall stay.  Ex. Ner. Manet Neophilus, Epaphroditus. Neoph. 
I wonder what makes him so confident  
In this revolt now grown unto a war,  
And ensigns in the field, when in the other,  
Being but a plot of a conspiracy,  
He showed himself so wretchedly dismayed,  Epaph. 
Faith, the right nature of a coward to set light  
Dangers that seem far off. Piso was here,  
Ready to enter at the Presence do't,  
And drag him out of his abused chair,  
And then he trembled; Vindex is in France,  
And many woods, and seas, and hills between.  Neoph. 
'twas strange that Piso was so soon suppressed,  Epaph: 
Strange, strange indeed, for had he but come up,  
And taken the Court, in that affright and stir,  
While unresolved for whom, or what to do,  
Each on the other had in jealousy  
(While as appalled Majesty not yet  
Had time to set the countenance) he would  
Have hazarded the royal seat.  Neoph: 
Nay, had it without hazard; all the Court  
Had for him been, and those disclosed their love,  
And favour in the cause, which now to hide,  
And colour their good meanings ready were  
To show their forwardness against it most.  Epaph: 
But for a stranger with a naked province,  
Without allies, or friends i'th' state to challenge  
A Prince upheld with thirty Legions  
Rooted in four descents of Ancestors,  
And fourteen years' continuance of reign,  
Why it is—  Enter Nero, Nimphidius, Tigellinus to them. ex Nor Nymph: Nero: 
Galba and Spain, what Spain and Galba too?  Epaph: 
I pray thee Tigellinus, what fury's this?  
What strange event, what accident hath thus  
o'ercast your countenances?  Tigell. 
Down we were set at table, and began  
With sparkling bowls to chase our fears away,  
And mirth and pleasure looked out of our eyes;  
When lo a breathless messenger comes in  
And tells how Vindex, and the powers of France  
Have Segius Galba chosen Emperor,  
With what applause the Legions him receive,  
That Spain's revolted; Portingale hath joined;  
As much suspected is of Germany;  
But Nero, not abiding out the end,  
o'erthrew the tables, dashed against the ground  
The cup which he so much you know esteemed;  
Teareth his hair, and with incensed rage  
Curseth false men, and Gods the lookers on.  Neoph: 
His rage we saw was wild and desperate.  Epaph: 
O you unsearched wisdoms, which do laugh,  
At our security, and fears alike;  
And plain to show our weakness, and your power  
Make us contemn the harms, which surest strike  
When you our glories, and our pride undo,  
Our overthrow you make ridiculous too. exeunt.  Enter Nimphidius solus. 
Slow making counsels, and the sliding year  
Have brought me to the long foreseen destruction  
Of this misled young man; his State is shaken,  
And I will push it on; revolted France;  
Nor the coniured Provinces of Spain,  
Nor his own guilt, shall like to me oppress him;  
I to his easy yielding fears proclaim  
New German mutines, and all the world  
Rousing itself in hate of Nero's name;  
I his distracted counsels do disperse  
With fresh despairs, I animate the Senate  
And the people, to engage them past recall  
In prejudice of Nero, and in brief,  
Perish he must, the fates and I resolve it;  
Which to effect, I presently will go,  
Proclaim a Donative in Galba's name.  Enter Antoneus to him. Anton: 
Yonder's Nimphidius our Commander, now,  
I with respect must speak, and smooth my brow;  
Captain all hail.  Nimp: 
Antoneus well met,  
Your place of Tribune in this anarchy.  Anton: 
This Anarchy my Lord, is Nero dead?  Nimph: 
This Anarchy, this yet unstilled time,  
While Galba is un eased of the Empire  
Which Nero hath forsook.  Anton: 
Hath Nero then resigned the Empire?  Nimph: 
In effect he hath, for he's fled to Egypt.  Anton: 
My Lord you tell strange news to me,  Nimph: 
But nothing strange to me,  
Who every moment, knew of his despairs,  
The Curriers came so fast with fresh alarms  
Of new revolts, that he unable quite  
To bear his fears, which he had long concealed,  
Is now revolted from himself, and fled.  Anto: 
Thrust with reports, and rumours from his seat.  
My Lord you know the Camp depends on you  
As you determine.  Nimph: 
There it lies Antonius,  
What should we do, it boots not to rely  
On Nero's stinking fortunes, and to sit  
Securely looking on, were to receive  
An Emperor from Spain; which how disgraceful  
It were to us, who if we weigh ourselves  
The most material accessions are  
Of all the Roman Empire, which disgrace  
To cover we must join ourselves betimes,  
And thereby seem to have created Gabba;  
Therefore I'll straight proclaim a Donative,  
Of thirty thousand sesterces a man.  Anto: 
I think so great a gift was never heard of.  
Galba they say is frugally inclined,  
Will he avow so great a gift as this?  Nimph: 
howe'er he like of it, he must avow it,  
If by our promise he be once engaged;  
And since the soldier's care belongs to me,  
I will have care of them, and of their good.  
Let them thank me, if I through this occasion  
Procure for them so great a donative. Ex: Nimp:  Anton: 
So you be thanked, it skill not who prevail,  
Galba, or Nero, traitor to them both;  
You give it out that Nero's fled to Egypt,  
Who with the frights of your reports amazed,  
By our device, doth lurk for better news,  
Whilst you inevitably do betray him,  
Works he all this for Galba then? not so  
I have long seen his climbing to the Empire  
By secret practises of gracious women,  
And other instruments of the late Court,  
That was his love to her that me refused;  
And now by this he would give the soldier's favour;  
Now is the time to quit Poppaea's scorn,  
And his rivality; I'll straight reveal  
His treacheries, to Galba's agents here. Exit:  Enter Tigellinus with the Guard. Tigell: 
You see what issue things do sort unto,  
Yet may we hope not only impunity,  
But with our fellows part o'th' gift proclaimed.  Nero meets them. Nero: 
Whether go you, stay my friends;  
'Tis Caesar calls you, stay my loving friends.  Tigell: 
We were his slaves, his footstools, and must crouch;  
But now, with such observance to his feet,  
It is his misery that calls us friends.  Nero. 
And moves you not the misery of a Prince?  
O stay my friends, stay, harken to the voice  
Which once ye knew.  Tigell: 
Hark to the people's cries,  
Hark to the streets, that Galba, Galba ring.  Nero: 
The people may forsake me without blame,  
I did them wrong to make you rich, and great,  
I took their houses to bestow on you:  
Treason in them hath name of liberty,  
Your fault hath no excuse, you are my fault,  
And the excuse of others treachery.  Tigell: 
Shall we with staying seem his tyrannies  
T' uphold, as if we were in love with them?  
We are excused unless we stay too long,  
As forced Ministers, and apart of wrong. ex. preter Nero.  Nero: 
O now I see the vizard from my face  
So lovely, and so fearful is fallen off  
That vizard, shadow, nothing (Majesty)  
(Which like a child acquainted with his fears,  
But now men trembled at, and now contemn▪  
Nero forsaken is of all the world.  
The world of truth; O fall some vengeance down  
Equal unto their falsehoods, and my wrongs;  
Might I accept the Chariot of the Sun.  
And like another Phaeton consume  
In flames of all the world; a pile of Death  
Worthy the state, and greatness I have lost.  
Or were I now but Lord of my own fires,  
Wherein false Rome yet once again might smoke,  
And perish, all unpitied of her Gods,  
That all things in their last destruction might  
Perform a funeral honour to their Lord.  
O love dissolve with Caesar, Caesar's world;  
Or you whom Nero rather should invoke  
Black Chaos, and you fearful shapes beneath,  
That with a long, and not vain envy have  
Sought to destroy this work of th'other Gods;  
Now let your darkness cease the spoils of day,  
And the world's first contention end your strife.  Enter two Romans to him. 1 Rom: 
Though others, bound with greater benefits  
Have left your changed fortunes and do run  
Whither new hopes do call them, yet come we.  Nero: 
O welcome, come you to adversity,  
Welcome true friends, why there is faith on earth.  
Of thousand servants, friends, and followers;  
Yet two are left: your countenance methinks  
Gives comfort, and new hopes  2 Rom: 
Do not deceive your thoughts,  
My Lord we bring no comfort, would we could;  
But the last duty to perform, and best  
We ever shall, a free death to persuade,  
To cut off hopes of fearcer cruelty,  
And scorn, more cruel to a worthy soul.  1 Rom: 
The Senate have decreed you're punishable,  
After the fashion of our ancestors;  
Which is; your neck being locked in a fork  
You must be naked whipped, and scourged to death.  Nero: 
The Senate thus decreed? they that so oft  
My virtues flattered have, and gifts of mine,  
My government preferred to ancient times,  
And challenge Numa to compare with me;  
Have they so horrible an end sought out?  
No, here I bear which shall prevent such shame,  
This hand shall yet from that deliver me,  
And faithful be alone unto his Lord.  
Alas how sharp, and terrible is death;  
O must I die, must now my senses close,  
For ever die, and ne'er return again,  
Never more see the Sun, nor Heaven, nor Earth?  
Whither go I? what shall I be anon;  
What horrid journey wanderest thou my soul,  
Under th'earth, in dark, damp, dusky vaults?  
Or shall I now to nothing be resolved?  
My fears become my hopes, O would I might.  
methinks I see the boiling Phlegeton,  
And the dull pool, feared of them we fear,  
The dread, and terror of the Gods themselves,  
The furies armed with links, with whips, with snakes,  
And my own furies far more mad than they;  
My mother, and those troops of slaughtered friends,  
And now the judge is brought unto the throne,  
That will not leave unto authority,  
Nor favour the oppressions of the great  1 Rom: 
These are the idle terrors of the night,  
Which wise men (though they teach, do not believe)  
To curb our pleasures fain, and aid the weak.  2 Rom: 
Death's wrongful defamation, which would make  
Us shun this happy haven of our rest,  
This end of evils; as some fearful harm.  1 Rom. 
Shadows, and fond imaginations,  
Which now you see on earth; but children fear.  2 Rom: 
Why should our faults fear punishment from them,  
What do the actions of this life concern  
The other world, with which is no commerce?  1 Rom: 
Would Heaven, and Stars, necessity compel  
Us to do that, which after it would punish?  2 Rom: 
Let us not after our life's end believe  
More than you felt before it.  Nero: 
If any words have made me confident,  
And boldly do, for hearing others speak,  
Boldly this night; But will you by example  
Teach me the truth of your opinion,  
And make me see that you believe yourselves,  
Will you by dying, teach me to bear death  
With courage?  1 Rom: 
No necessity of death  
Hangs o'er our heads, no dangers threatens us,  
Nor senate's sharp decree, nor Galba's arms.  2 Rom: 
Is this the thanks than thou dost pay our love?  
Die basely as such a life deserved;  
Reserve thyself to punishment, and scorn  
Of Rome, and of thy laughing enemies. exeunt.  Manet Nero. Nero: 
They hate me, cause I would but live, what was't  
You loved kind friends, and came to see my death;  
Let me endure all torture, and reproach  
That earth, or Galba's anger can inflict:  
Yet hell, and Rodamanth are more pitiless.  The first Roman to him. Rom: 
Though not deserved, yet once again I come,  
To warn thee to take pity on thyself;  
The troops by the Senate sent, descend the hill  
And come.  Nero: 
To take me, and to whip me unto death:  
O whither shall I fly?  Rom: 
Thou hast no choice.  Nero: 
O hither must I fly, hard is his hap,  
Who from death only must by death escape,  
Where are they yet? O may I not a little  
Bethink myself?  Rom: 
They are at hand; hark, thou mayst hear the noise.  Nero: 
O Rome farewell farewell you Theatres,  
Where I so oft, with popular applause  
In song; and action; O they come I die. He falls on his sword.  Rom: 
So base an end all just commiseration  
Doth take away, yet what we do now spurn,  
The morning Sun saw fearful to the world.  Enter some of Galba's friends, Antoneus and others, with Nimphidius bound. Gal: 
You both shall die together, Traitors both,  
He to the common wealth, and thou to him,  
And worse, to a good Prince; what, is he dead?  
Hath fear encouraged him, and made him thus,  
Prevent our punishment; then die with him.  
Fall thy aspiring at thy Master's feet. He kills Nymph:  Anton: 
Who though he justly perished, yet by thee  
Deserved it not, nor ended there thy treason;  
But even thought o'th' Empire, thou conceivest  
Galba's disgrace in receiving that  
Which the son of Nimphidia could hope.  Rom: 
Thus great bad men above them find a rod:  
People depart, and say there is a God.  Exeunt.  
FJNJS.