Chapter 3

_Nero_. I know I did; or[18] bruised in my fall? Hurt! I protest I felt no griefe in it. Goe, _Tigellinus_, fetch the villaines head. This makes me see his heart in other things. Fetch me his head; he nere shall speake againe. [_Ex. Tigell_. What doe we Princes differ from the durt And basenesse of the common Multitude If to the scorne of each malicious tongue We subiect are: For that I had no skill,[19] Not he that his farre famed daughter set A prise to Victoria and had bin Crown'd With thirteene Sutors deaths till he at length By fate of Gods and Servants treason fell, (Shoulder pack't[20] _Pelops_, glorying in his spoyles) Could with more skill his coupled horses guide. Even as a Barke that through the mooving Flood Her linnen wings and the forc't ayre doe beare; The Byllowes fome, she smoothly cutts them through; So past my burning Axeltree along: The people follow with their Eyes and Voyce, And now the wind doth see it selfe outrun And the Clouds wonder to be left behind, Whilst the void ayre is fild with shoutes and noyse, And _Neroes_ name doth beate the brazen Skie; _Jupiter_ envying loath doth heare my praise. Then their greene bowes and Crownes of Olive wreaths, The Conquerors 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 furniture--

_Nero_. I have no skill to drive a Chariot! Had he but robde me, broke my treasurie: The red-Sea's mine, mine are the _Indian_ stones, The Worlds mine owne; then cannot I be robde? But spightfully to undermine my fame, To take away my arte! he would my life As well, no doubt, could he tould (tell?) how.

_Enter Tigellinus_ with _Proculus head_.

_Neoph_. My Lord, _Tigellinus_ is backe come with _Proculus head_. (_Strikes him_.)

_Nero_. O cry thee mercie, good _Neophilus_; Give him five hundred sesterces for amends. Hast brought him, Tigellinus?

_Tigell_. Heres his head, my Lord.

_Nero_. His tongue had bin enough.

_Tigell_. I did as you commanded me, my Lord.

_Nero_. Thou toldst not me, though, he had such a nose![21] Now are you quiet and have quieted me: This tis to be commander of the World. Let them extoll weake pittie that do neede it, Let meane men cry to have Law and Iustice done And tell their griefes to Heaven that heares them not: Kings must upon the Peoples headlesse courses Walk to securitie and ease of minde. Why, what have we to doe with th'ayrie names (That old age and _Philosophers_ found out) Of _Iustice_ and ne're certaine Equitie? The God's revenge themselves and so will we; Where right is scand Authoritie's orethrowne: We have a high prerogative above it. Slaves may do what is right, we what we please: The people will repine and think it ill, But they must beare, and praise too, what we will.

_Enter Cornutus[22] 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 to day _Orestes_.

_Corn_. You have done that alreadie, and too truely. (_Aside_.)

_Nero_. And when our Sceane is done I meane besides To read some compositions of my owne, Which, for the great opinion I my selfe And _Rome_ in generall of thy Judgment hath, Before I publish them Ile shew them thee.

_Corn_. My Lord, my disabilities--

_Nero_. I know thy modestie: Ile only shew thee now my works beginning.-- Goe see, _Epaphroditus_, Musick made ready; I will sing to day.-- [_Exit Epa. Cornutus_, I pray thee come neere And let me heare thy Judgement in my paynes. I would have thee more familiar, good _Cornutus_; _Nero_ doth prise desert and more esteemes Them that in knowledge second him, then power. Marke with what style and state my worke begins.

_Corn_. Might not my Interruption offend, Whats your workes name, my Lord? what write you of?

_Nero_. I meane to write the deeds of all the Romans.

_Corn_. Of all the Romans? A huge argument.

_Nero_. I have not yet bethought me of a title:-- (_he reades_,)

"_You Enthrall Powers which[23] the wide Fortunes doon Of Empyre-crown'd seaven-Mountaine-seated Rome, Full blowne Inspire me with_ Machlaean[24] _rage That I may bellow out_ Romes _Prentisage; As[25] when the_ Menades _do fill their Drums And crooked hornes with_ Mimalonean _hummes And_ Evion[26] _do Ingeminate around, Which reparable Eccho doth resound_."

How doest thou like our Muses paines, _Cornutus_?

_Corn_. The verses have more in them than I see: Your work, my Lord, I doubt will be too long.

_Nero_. Too long?

_Tigell_. Too long?

_Corn_. I, if you write the deedes of all the _Romans_. How many Bookes thinke you t'include it in?

_Nero_. I thinke to write about foure hundred Bookes.

_Corn_. Four hundred! Why, my Lord, they'le nere be read.[27]

_Nero_. Hah!

_Tigell_. Why, he whom you esteeme so much, _Crisippus_, Wrote many more.

_Corn_. But they were profitable to common life And did Men Honestie and Wisedome teach.

_Nero_. _Tigellinus_!

[Exit _Nero and Tigell_.

_Corn_. See with what earnestnesse he crav'd my Judgment, And now he freely hath it how it likes him.

_Neoph_. The Prince is angry, and his fall is neere; Let us begon lest we partake his ruines.

[_Exeunt omnes praeter Cornu_.

_Manet Cornutus solus_.

What should I doe at Court? I cannot lye. Why didst thou call me, _Nero_, from my Booke; Didst thou for flatterie of _Cornutus_ looke? No, let those purple Fellowes that stand by thee (That admire shew and things that thou canst give) Leave to please Truth and Vertue to please thee. _Nero_, there is no thing in thy power _Cornutus_ Doth wish or fear.

_Enter Tigellinus to him_.

_Tigell_. Tis _Neroes_ pleasure that you straight depart To _Giara_, and there remaine confin'd: Thus he, out of his Princely Clemencie, Hath Death, your due, turn'd but to banishment.

_Corn_. Why, _Tigellinus_?

_Tigell_. I have done, upon your perill go or stay. [_Ex. Ti_.

_Corn_. And why should Death or Banishment be due For speaking that which was requir'd, my thought? O why doe Princes love to be deceiv'd And even do force abuses on themselves? Their Eares are so with pleasing speech beguil'd That Truth they mallice, Flatterie truth account, And their owne Soule and understanding lost Goe, what they are, to seeke in other men. Alas, weake Prince, how hast thou punisht me To banish me from thee? O let me goe And dwell in _Taurus_, dwell in _Ethiope_ So that I doe not dwell at _Rome_ with thee. The farther still I goe from hence, I know, The farther I leave Shame and Vice behind. Where can I goe but I shall see thee, Sunne? And _Heaven_ will be as neere me still as here. Can they so farre a knowing soule exyle That her owne roofe she sees not ore her head?

[_Exit_.

(SCENE 3.)

_Enter Piso, Scevinus, Lucan, Flavius_.

_Piso_. Noble Gentlemen, what thankes, what recompence Shall hee 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 meane paye; Yet can give no more. Take that, bestow it Upon your service.

_Lucan_. O _Piso_, that vouchsafest To grace our headlesse partie with thy name, Whom having our conductor[28] we need not Have fear'd to goe against[29] the well try'd vallor Of Julius or stayednesse of _Augustus_, Much lesse 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,[30] The Campe and Cittie grew asham'd that _Nero_ And _Piso_ should be offered them together.

_Scevin_. We seeke not now (as in the happy dayes Oth' common wealth they did) for libertie; O you deere ashes, _Cassius_ and _Brutus_, That was with you entomb'd, their let it rest. We are contented with the galling yoke If they will only leave us necks to beare it: We seeke no longer freedome, we seeke life; At least, not to be murdred, let us die On Enemies swords. Shall we, whom neither The _Median_ Bow nor _Macedonian_ Speare Nor the fierce _Gaul_ nor painted _Briton_ could Subdue, lay down our neckes to tyrants axe? Why doe we talke of Vertue that obay Weaknesse and Vice?

_Piso_. Have patience, good _Scevinus_.

_Lucan_. Weaknesse 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 _Pisoes_ credit strengthned.

_Flav_. Which makes it doubtfull whether love to him Or _Neroes_ hatred hath drawne more unto us.

_Piso_. I see the good thoughts you have of me, Lords. Lets now proceede to th'purpose of our meeting: I pray you take your places. Lets have some paper brought.

_Scevin_. Whose within?

_Enter Milichus to them_.

_Mill_. My Lord.

_Scevin_. Some Inke and Paper.

[_Exit Mili_.

_Enter againe with Incke and Paper_.

_Flav_. Whose that, _Scevinus_?

_Scevin_. It is my freed man, _Milichus_.

_Lucan_. Is he trustie?

_Scevin_. I, for as great matters as we are about.

_Piso_. And those are great ones.

_Lucan_. I aske not that we meane to need his trust; Gaine hath great soveraigntie ore servile mindes.

_Scevin_. O but my benefits have bound him to me. I from a bondman have his state not onely Advanct to freedome but to wealth and credit.

_Piso_. _Mili_. waite ith' next chamber till we call. [_abscondit se_. The thing determinde on, our meeting now Is of the meanes and place, due circumstance As to the doing of things: 'tis required So done it names the action.[31]

_Mili_. I wonder (_aside_) 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?

_Piso_. And since the field and open shew of armes Disliked you, and that for the generall good You meane to end all styrres in end of him; That, as the ground, must first be thought upon.

_Mill_. Besides, this comming cannot be for forme, (_aside_) Our (Mere?) visitation; they goe aside And have long conferences by themselves.

_Lucan_. _Piso_, his coming to your house at Baiae[32] To bathe and banquet will fit meanes afford, Amidst his cups, to end his hated life: Let him die drunke that nere liv'd soberly.

_Piso_. O be it farre that I should staine my Table And Gods of Hospitalitie with blood. Let not our cause (now Innocent) be soyld With such a plot, nor _Pisoes_ name made hatefull. What place can better fit our action Then his owne house, that boundlesse envied heape Built with the spoyles and blood of Cittizens, That hath taken up the Citie, left no roome For _Rome_ to stand on? _Romanes_ get you gone And dwell at _Veiae_, if that _Veiae_ too This (His?) house ore runne not.[33]

_Lucan_. But twill be hard to doe it in his house And harder to escape, being done.

_Piso_. Not so: _Rufus_, the Captaine of the Guard, 's with us, And divers other oth' _Praetorian_ band Already made (named?); 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 lov'd him best, when once They see him gone, will smile oth' comming times, Let goe things past and looke to their owne safetie: Besides, th'astonishment and feare will be So great, so sodaine that 'twill hinder them From doing anything.

_Mili_. No private businesse can concerne them all: (_aside_) Their countenances are troubled and looke sad; Doubt and importance in their face is read.

_Lucan_. Yet still, I think it were Safer t'attempt him private and alone.

_Flav_. But 'twill not carry that opinion with it; 'Twill seeme more foule and come from private malice. _Brutus_ and they, to right the common cause, Did chuse a publike place.

_Scevin_.[34] Our deed is honest, why should it seeke corners? Tis for the people done, let them behold it; Let me have them a witnesse of my truth And love to th'Common-wealth. The danger's greater, So is the glory. Why should our pale counsels Tend whether feare rather then vertue calls them? I doe not like these cold considerings. First let our thoughts looke up to what is honest, Next to what's safe. If danger may deterre us Nothing that's great or good shall ere be done: And, when we first gave hands upon this deed, To th'common safetie we our owne gave up. Let no man venture on a princes death, How bad soever, with beliefe to escape; Dispaire must be our hope, fame o[u]r reward. To make the generall liking to concurre With others (ours?) 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 chuse but clap So sweet a close, and 'twill not _Caesar_ be That shall be slaine, a _Roman_ Prince; Twill be _Alcmaeon_ or blind Oedipus.

_Mili_. And if it be of publique matters 'tis not (_aside_) Like to be talke or idle fault finding, On which the coward onely spends his wisedome: These are all men of action and of spirit, And dare performe what they determine on.

_Lucan_. What thinke you of _Poppaea, Tigellinus_ And th'other odious Instruments of Court? Were it not best at once to rid them all?

_Scevin_. In _Caesars_ ruine _Anthony_ was spared; Lets not our cause with needlesse blood distaine. One onely mov'd, the change will not appeare; When too much licence given to the sword, Though against ill, will make even good men feare. Besides, things setled, you at pleasure may By Law and publique Iudgement have them rid.

_Mili_. And if it be but talke oth' State 'tis Treason. (_aside_) Like it they cannot, that they cannot doe: If seeke to mend it, and remoove the Prince, That's highest Treason: change his Councellours, That's alteration of the Government, The common cloke that Treasons muffled in: If laying force aside, to seeke by suite And faire petition t'have the State reform'd, That's tutering of the Prince and takes away Th' one his person, this his Soveraigntie. Barely in private talke to shew dislike Of what is done is dangerous; therefore the action Mislike you cause the doer likes you not. Men are not fit to live ith' state they hate.

_Piso_. Though we would all have that imployment sought, Yet, since your worthy forwardnesse _Scevinus_[35] Prevents us and so Nobly beggs for danger, Be this (thine?) the chosen hand to doe the deed; The fortune of the Empire speed your sword.

_Scevin_. Vertue and Heaven speed it. You home-borne Gods of our countrey, _Romulus_ and _Vesta_, That _Thuscan Tiber_ and Romes towers defends, Forbid not yet at length a happie end To former evils; let this hand revenge The wronged world; enough we now have suffered.

[_Exeunt_.

_Manet Milichus solus_.

_Mili_. Tush, all this long Consulting's more then words, It ends not there; th'have some attempt, some plot Against the state: well, I'le observe it farther And, if I find it, make my profit of it. [_Exit_.

_Finis Actus Secundus. [Sic.]_

_Actus Tertius_.

_Enter Poppea solus. [Sic.]_

_Poppea_. I lookt _Nimphidius_ would have come ere this. Makes he no greater hast to our embraces, Or doth the easiness abate his edge? Or seeme we not as faire still as we did? Or is he so with _Neroes_ playing wonne That he before _Poppea_ doth preferre it? Or doth he think to have occasion still, Still to have time to waite on our stolne meetings?

_Enter Nimphidius to her_.

But see, his presence now doth end those doubts. What is't, _Nimphidius_, hath so long detain'd you?

_Nimphid_. Faith, Lady, causes strong enough, High walls, bard dores, and guards of armed men.

_Poppea_. Were you Imprisoned, then, as you were going To the Theater?

_Nimphid_. Not in my going, Lady, But in the Theater I was imprisoned. For after he was once upon the Stage The Gates[36] were more severely lookt into Then at a town besieg'd: no man, no cause Was Currant, no, nor passant. At other sights The striefe is only to get in, but here The stirre was all in getting out againe. Had we not bin kept to it so I thinke 'Twould nere have been so tedious, though I know 'Twas hard to judge whether his doing of it Were more absurd then 'twas for him[37] to doe it. But when we once were forct to be spectators, Compel'd to that which should have bin a pleasure, We could no longer beare the wearisomnesse: No paine so irksome as a forct delight. Some fell down dead or seem'd at least to doe so, Under that colour to be carried forth. Then death first pleasur'd men, the shape all feare Was put on gladly; some clomb ore the walls And so, by falling, caught in earnest that Which th'other did dissemble. There were women[38] That (being not able to intreat the guard To let them passe the gates) were brought to bed Amidst the throngs of men, and made _Lucina_ Blush to see that unwonted companie.

_Poppea_. If 'twere so straightly kept how got you forth?

_Nimphid_. Faith, Lady, I came pretending hast In Face and Countenance, told them I was sent For things bith' Prince forgot about the sceane, Which both my credit made them to beleeve And _Nero_ newly whispered me before. Thus did I passe the gates; the danger, Ladie, I have not yet escapt.

_Poppea_. What danger meane you?

_Nimphid_. The danger of his anger when he knowes How I thus shranke away; for there stood knaves, That put downe in their Tables all that stir'd And markt in each there cheerefulnesse or sadnesse.

_Poppea_. I warrant He excuse you; but I pray Lett's be a little better for your sight. How did our Princely husband act _Orestes_? Did he not wish againe his mother living? Her death would adde great life unto his part. But come, I pray; the storie of your sight.

_Nimph_. O doe not drive me to those hatefull paines. Lady, I was too much in seeing vext; Let it not be redoubled with the telling. I now am well and heare, my eares set free; O be mercifull, doe not bring me backe Unto my prison, at least free your selfe. It will not passe away, but stay the time; Wracke out the houres in length. O give me leave: As one that wearied with the toyle at sea And now on wished shore hath firm'd his foote, He lookes about and glads his thoughts and eyes With sight oth' greene cloath'd ground and leavy trees, Of flowers that begge more then the looking on, And likes these other waters narrow shores; So let me lay my wearines in these armes, Nothing but kisses to this mouth discourse, My thoughts be compast in those circl'd Eyes, Eyes on no obiect looke but on these Cheekes; Be blest my hands with touch of those round brests Whiter and softer than the downe of Swans. Let me of thee and of thy beauties glory An[39] endless tell, but never wearying story.

[_Exeunt_.

(SCENE 2.)

_Enter Nero, Epaphroditus, Neophilus_.

_Nero_. Come Sirs, I faith, how did you like my acting? What? wast not as you lookt for?

_Epaphr_. Yes, my Lord, and much beyond.

_Nero_. Did I not doe it to the life?

_Epaphr_. The very doing never was so lively As was this counterfeyting.

_Nero_. And when I came Toth' point of _Agripp[40]--Clytemnestras_ death, Did it not move the feeling auditory?

_Epaphr_. They had beene stones whom that could not have mov'd.

_Nero_. Did not my voice hold out well to the end, And serv'd me afterwards afresh to sing with?

_Neoph_. We know _Appollo_ cannot match your voice.

_Epaphr_. By Jove! I thinke you are the God himselfe Come from above to shew your hidden arts And fill us men with wonder of your skill.

_Nero_. Nay, faith, speake truely, doe not flatter me; I know you need not; flattery's but where Desert is meane.

_Epaphr_. I sweare by thee, O _Caesar_, Then whom no power of heaven I honour more, No mortall Voice can passe or equall thine.

_Nero_. They tell of _Orpheus_, when he tooke his Lute And moov'd the noble Ivory with his touch, _Hebrus_ stood still, _Pangea_ bow'd his head, _Ossa_ then first shooke off his snowe and came To listen to the moovings of his song; The gentle _Popler_ tooke the baye along, And call'd the _Pyne_ downe from his Mountaine seate; The _Virgine Bay_, although the Arts she hates Oth' _Delphick_ God, was with his voice orecome; He his twice-lost _Euridice_ bewailes And _Proserpines_ vaine gifts, and makes the shores And hollow caves of forrests now untreed Beare his griefe company, and all things teacheth His lost loves name; Then water, ayre, and ground _Euridice, Euridice_ resound. These are bould tales, of which the Greeks have store; But if he could from Hell once more returne And would compare his hand and voice with mine, I, though himselfe were iudge, he then should see How much the _Latine_ staines the _Thracian_ lyar. I oft have walkt by _Tibers_ flowing bankes 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 ayres And ceast th'eternall Musicke of the _Spheares_ To marke my voyce and mend their tunes by mine.

_Neoph_. O divine voice!

_Epaphr_. Happy are they that heare it!

_Enter Tigellinus to them_.

_Nero_. But here comes _Tigellinus_; come, thy bill. Are there so many? I see I have enemies.

_Epaphr_. Have you put _Caius_ in? I saw him frowne.

_Neoph_. And in the midst oth' Emperors action. _Gallus_ laught out, and as I thinke in scorne.

_Nero_. _Vespasian_[41] too asleepe? was he so drowsie? Well, he shall sleepe the Iron sleepe of death. And did _Thrasea_ looke so sourely on us?

_Tigell_. He never smilde, my Lord, nor would vouchsafe With one applause to grace your action.

_Nero_. Our action needed not be grac'd by him: Hee's our old enemie and still maligns us. 'Twill have an end, nay it shall have an end. Why, I have bin too pittifull, too remisse; My easinesse is laught at and contemn'd. 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 Princes anger must lay desolate Citties, Kingdomes consume, Roote up mankind. O could I live to see the generall end, Behold the world enwrapt in funerall flame, When as the _Sunne_ shall lend his beames to burne What he before brought forth, and water serve Not to extinguish but to nurse the fire; Then, like the _Salamander_, bathing me In the last Ashes of all mortall things Let me give up this breath. _Priam_ was happie, Happie indeed; he saw his _Troy_ burnt And _Illion_ lye on heapes, whilst thy pure streames (Divine _Scamander_) did run _Phrygian_ blood, And heard the pleasant cries of _Troian_ mothers. Could I see _Rome_ so!

_Tigell_. Your Maiestie may easily, Without this trouble to your sacred mind.