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NERO, by                    
First Line: "tush, take the wench"
Last Line: "people, depart and say there is a god"
Subject(s): "nero, Roman Emperor (37-68 A.d.);


DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

NERO CÆSAR, Emperor.
TIGELLINUS SOPHONIUS.
EPAPHRODITUS, a Freedman, Secretary to NERO.
NIMPHIDIUS.
NEOPHILUS.
LUCIUS PISO, Chief of the Conspirators.
FLAVIUS SCÆVINUS, a Senator.
MILICHUS, his Freedman.
SUBRIUS FLAVIUS, Tribune of a Prætorian Cohort.
M. ANNÆUS LUCANUS, Poet.
L. ANNÆUS SENECA, Philosopher.
C. PETRONIUS ARBITER, Writer.
ANTONIUS HONORATUS.
ANNÆUS CORNUTUS, Philosopher.
A Young Man.
A Man.
Friends of SENECA.
Friend of GALBA.
Romans.
Physician, Guards, Messengers, Attendants, etc

POPPÆA SABINA, Wife of NERO.
ENANTHE.
A Woman.

SCENE–Chiefly in ROME.

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I.—A Gallery in the Golden House of NERO.

Enter PETRONIUS ARBITER and ANTONIUS HONORATUS.

PET. Tush, take the wench
I showed thee now, or else some
other seek.
What! can your choler no way be allayed
But with imperial stuff?
Will you more titles unto Cæsar [give?
Ant. 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 Cæsar's name:
Yet nothing of all this I envy thee
But her, to whom the world unforced obeys,
Whose eye's more worth than all it looks upon;
In whom all beauties Nature hath enclosed
That through the wide earth or heaven are disposed.
Pet. Indeed she 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!
Pet. Ay! homely in her gown,
But look upon her face and that's set out
With no sale grace, no veilèd shadows help.
Fool, that had'st rather with false lights and dark
Beguilèd be than see the ware thou buyest!

POPPÆA enters royally attended, and passes 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.
Pet. Why, true!
Another 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 my arms
Then Cleopatra she, or Lucrece is;
I'll give her any title.
Ant. Yet not so much her greatness and estate
My hopes dishearten as her chastity.
Pet. Chastity, fool! a word not known in courts.
Well it may 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 Poppæa? Nay, thou shalt
Make her as soon contented with an eye.

Enter NIMPHIDIUS.

Nim. [Aside.] Whilst Nero in the streets his pageants shows,
I to his fair wife's chambers sent for am.
Yon gracious stars that smilèd on 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, my fortune be. [Exit.
Ant. How saucily yon fellow
Enters the Empress' chamber.
Pet. Ay! and her too. Antonius, knowest thou him?
Ant. What? know 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 freedwoman.
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 Poppæa's eyes?
Ant. I do, and did interpret it in them
An honourable favour they bare 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. Since 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 with crimson and with gold adorned.
Yet, 'cause I see that thy restrained desires
Cannot their own way choose, come thou with me;
Perhaps I'll show thee means of remedy. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.—A Street in Rome.

Shouls within. Enter two Romans meeting.

1st Rom. Whither so fast, man? Whither so fast?
2nd Rom. Whither! but where your ears do lead you,
To Nero's triumphs and the shouts you hear.
1st Rom. Why? comes he crowned with Parthian overthrow
And brings he Vologeses with him chained?
2nd Rom. Parthian overthrow? 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—Oh, Rome had never such a prince!
1st Rom. Yet, I have heard, our ancestors were crowned
For other victories.
2nd Rom. None of our ancestors were e'er like him.
[Within.] Nero Apollo! Nero Hercules!
1st Rom. Hark how th' applauding shouts do cleave the air!
This idle talk will make me lose the sight.

Enter 3rd Roman.

3rd Rom. Whither go you? All's done i' th' Capitol,
And Nero, having there his tables hung
And garlands up, is to the palace gone.

Enter 4th Roman.

4th Rom. 'Twas beyond wonder; I shall never see,
Nay, I'll ne'er look to see the like of this:
Eighteen hundred and eight crowns
For several victories, and the place set down
Where, and in what, and whom he overcame.
3rd Rom. That was set down i' th' tables that were borne
Upon the soldiers' spears.
1st Rom. O made, and sometimes used for other ends!
2nd Rom. But did he win them all with singing?
3rd Rom. Faith, all with singing and with stage-playing.
1st Rom. So many crowns got with a song!
4th Rom. But did you mark the Greek musicians
Behind his chariot, hanging down their heads,
Shamed and o'ercome in their professions?
Oh, Rome was never honoured so before!
3rd Rom. But what was he that rode i' th' chariot with him?
4th Rom. That was Diodorus, the minstrel, that he favours.
3rd Rom. Was there ever such a prince!
2nd Rom. O Nero Augustus, the true Augustus!
3rd 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 been,
On th' other, Hercules.
2nd Rom. I have heard my father oft repeat the triumphs
Which in Augustus Cæsar's times were shown
Upon his victory o'er the Illyrians;
But it seems it was not like to this.
3rd and 4th Rom. Pish! it could not be like this.
2nd, 3rd, and 4th Rom. O Nero Apollo! Nero Hercules!
[Exeunt 2nd, 3rd, and 4th Roman.
1st Rom. Whether Augustus' triumph greater was
I cannot tell; his triumph's 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.

SCENE III.—A Room in the Golden House of NERO.

Enter NERO, POPPÆA, NIMPHIDIUS, TIGELLINUS, EPAPHRODITUS,
NEOPHILUS, and others.

Nero. Now, fair Poppæa, see thy Nero shine
In bright Achaia's spoils, and Rome in him.
The Capitol hath other trophies seen
Than it was wont; not spoils with blood bedewed
Or the unhappy obsequies of death,
But such as Cæsar's cunning, not his force,
Hath wrung from Greece too bragging of her art.
Tig. And of this strife the glory's all your own,
Your tribunes cannot share this praise with you:
Here your centurions have 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 war's grim valour graceth with her deeds,
Will claim no portion in this victory.
Nero. Not Bacchus drawn from Nysa down with tigers
Curbing with viny reins their wilful heads,—
Whilst some do gape upon his ivy Thyrse,
Some on the dangling grapes that crown his head,
All praise his beauty and continuing youth,—
So struck amazèd India with wonder
As Nero's glories did the Greekish towns,
Elis, and Pisa, and the rich Mycenæ,
Junonian Argos, and yet Corinth proud
Of her two seas; all which o'ercome did yield
To me their praise and prizes of their games.
Pop. Yet in your Greekish journey, we did 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 Agesilaus 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 or blood.
Nero. What, mock ye me, Poppæa?
Pop. 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 their hearing for a sound,
That by death only seek to get a living,
Make scars their 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, Poppæa, having laid apart
Our boastful spoils and ornaments of triumph,
Come we like Jove from Phlegra—
Pop. O giantlike comparison!
Nero. When after all his fires and murthering darts,
He comes to bath himself in Juno's eyes.
But thou, than wrangling Juno far more fair
Staining the evening beauty of the sky,
Or the day's brightness, shalt make glad thy Cæsar,
Shalt make him proud such beauties to enjoy.
[Exeunt all except NIMPHIDIUS.
Nim. Such beauties to enjoy were happiness
And a reward sufficient in itself,
Although no other end were aimèd at;
But I have other: 'tis not Poppæa'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 executions,
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 Poppæa'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.

SCENE IV.—A Room in SCÆVINUS' House.

Enter SENECA, SCÆVINUS, LUCAN, and FLAVIUS.

Scæv. His first beginning was his father's death;
His brother's poisoning and wife's bloody end
Came next; his mother's murther 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 of the world.
Then first an emperor came upon the stage
And sung to please car-men and candle-sellers,
And learnt 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.
Sen. He sometimes trainèd 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 theatre big enough
To have enclosed thy follies here at home?
Oh, could not Rome and Italy contain
Thy shame, but thou must cross the seas to show it?
Scæv. And make them that were 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.
Luc. O Mummius! O Flaminius!
You whom your virtues have not made more famous
Than Nero's vices, you went o'er to Greece
But t'other wars, and brought home other conquests.
You Corinth and Mycenæ overthrew,
And Perseus' self, the great Achilles' race,
O'ercame, having Minerva's stainèd temples
And your slain ancestors of Troy revenged.
Sen. 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 Phillip and Antiochus,
Hath found more easy enemies to deal with,
Turpnus, Pammenes, and a rout of fiddlers.
Scæv. Withal, 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.
Flav. The men he carried over were enough
T'have put the Parthian to his second flight,
Or the proud Indian taught the Roman yoke.
Scæv. 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.
Flav. Therefore they brought spoils of such soldiers worthy.
Luc. But to throw down the walls and gates of Rome
To make an entrance for an hobby-horse,
To vaunt to th' people his ridiculous spoils,
To come with laurel and with olives crowned
For having been the worst of all the singers,
Is beyond patience.
Scæv. Ay, and anger too,
Had you but seen him in his chariot ride,
That chariot in which Augustus late
His triumphs o'er so many nations showed,
And with him in the same a minstrel placed
The while the people, running by his side,
'Hail thou Olympic Conqueror,' did cry,
'O hail thou Parthian!' and did fill the sky
With shame, and voices heaven would not have heard.
Sen. 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 an 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. [Exit.

Scæv. I do commend in Seneca this passion;
And yet methinks our country's misery
Doth at our hands crave something more than tears.
Luc. Pity, though't doth a kind affection show,
If it end there, our weakness makes us know.
Flav. Let children weep and men seek remedy.
Scæv. Stoutly, and like a soldier, Flavius!
Yet to seek remedy to a prince's ill
Seldom but it doth the physician kill.
Flav. And if it do, Scævinus, 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.
Luc. 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 alës drink,
Yet we walk safely in the streets of Rome:
Bonduca hinders not but we might live:
Whom we do hurt them we call enemies,
And those our lords that spoil and murder us
Nothing is hard to them that dare to die.
Scæv. This noble resolution in you, lords,
Heartens me to disclose some thoughts that I—
The matter is of weight and dangerous.
It is—
Luc. I see you fear us, Scævinus.
Scæv. Nay, nay, although the thing be full of fear.
Flav. Tell it to faithful ears what e'er it be.
Scæv. Faith, let it go, it will but trouble us,
Be hurtful to the speaker and the hearer.
Luc. If our long friendship or the opinion—
Scæv. [Aside.] Why should I fear to tell them?
Why? Is he not a parricide, a player?
[Aloud.] 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 soe'er you now are fled and will
No more look down upon th' oppressèd 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—
Luc. Stay, you're carried too much away, Scævinus.
Scæv. 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 wife's, a chaste wife's, breast and torn
With Scythian hands his mother's bowels up?
The inhospitable Caucasus is mild;
The Moor, that in the boiling desert seeks
With blood of strangers to imbrue his jaws,
Upbraids the Roman now with barbarousness.
Luc. You are too earnest.
I neither can, nor will I speak for him,
And though he sought my learnèd 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 Cirrha, a new Helicon.
I hate him that he is Rome's enemy,
An enemy to virtue, sits on high
To shame the seat; and in that hate my life
And blood I'll mingle on the earth with yours.
Flav. My deeds, Scævinus, shall speak my consen
Scæv. '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 forborne their duties
To grace our swords with glorious blood of tyrants.
[Exeunt.

ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE I.—The Garden of NERO'S Palace.

Enter PETRONIUS.

PET. Here waits Poppæa her Nimphidius' coming,
And hath this garden and green walks chose out
To bless them with more pleasures than their own.
Not only arras hangings and silk beds
Are guilty of the faults we blame them for:
Somewhat these arbours and yon trees do know,
Whilst your 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 love-sick 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 hopeful love,
This is the place and time wherein to try it;
Women will hear 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 forth, willing, to her did he pace:
Arm him, Priapus, with thy powerful mace.
But see, they coming are; how they agree
Here will I harken; shroud me, gentle tree. [Hides himself.

Enter POPPÆA and ANTONIUS.

Ant. 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.
Pop. You may solicit your presumptuous suits,
You duty may, and shame too, lay aside,
Disturb my privacy, and I forsooth
Must be afeared even to be angry at you!
Ant. 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.
Oh! 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. [Aside.
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 threatening 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. [Aside.
Ant. Oh! do not see thy fair in that false glass
Of outward difference; look into my heart,
There shalt thou see thyself enthronèd set
In greater majesty than all the pomp
Of Rome or Nero. 'Tis not the crouching 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. [Aside.] On! on! Thou hast the goal, the fort is beaten:
Women are won when they begin to threaten.
Ant. 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 recompence in that same kind
The wrong was done them; love was mine offence,
In that revenge, in that seek recompence.
Pop. 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.
Pet. 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.
Ant. 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-heart's love,
I see she hates me. And shall I love one
That hates me, and bestows what I deserve
Upon my rival? No, farewell Poppæa,
Farewell Poppæa 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 forcèd from her than begin herself.
Their loves that list upon great ladies set,
I still will love the wench that I can get. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.—A Room in the Golden House of NERO.

Enter NERO, TIGELLINUS, EPAPHRODITUS, and NEOPHILUS.

Nero. Tigellinus, said the villain Proculus
I was thrown down in running?
Tig. 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 to th' 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 my chariot fell against my will.
Tig. 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 driver bear a forcèd fall.
How say'st thou, Tigellinus? I am sure
Thou hast in driving as much skill as he.
Tig. My lord, you greater cunning showed in falling
Than had you sat.
Nero. I know I did. I bruisèd in my fall?
Hurt? I protest, I felt no grief in it.
Go, Tigellinus, fetch the villain's head;
This makes me see his heart in other things.
Fetch me his head; he ne'er shall speak again!
[Exit TIGELLINUS.
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-famèd daughter set
A prize to victory, and had been crowned
With thirteen suitors' deaths till he at length
By fate of gods and servants' treason fell,
Shoulder-pieced Pelops, glorying in his spoils,
Could with more skill his coupled horses guide.
Even as a barque that through the moving flood
Her linen wings and the forced air do bear;
The billows foam, she smoothly cuts them through:
So past my burning axle-tree 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 triumphs,
And Nero's name doth beat the brazen sky;
Jupiter envying, loath doth hear my praise:
Then their green bows and crowns of olive wreaths,
The conqueror's praise, they give me as my due;
And yet this rogue saith, No, we have no skill.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. My lord, the stage and all the furniture—
Nero. I have no skill to drive a chariot!
Had he but robbed me, broke my treasury:
The Red Sea's mine, mine are the Indian stones,
The world's 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 tell how.

Re-enter TIGELLINUS, with PROCULUS' head.

Neoph. My lord,
Tigellinus is back come with Proculus' head. [Strikes him.
Nero. I cry thee mercy, good Neophilus;
Give him five hundred sesterces for amends.
Hast brought him, Tigellinus?
Tig. Here's his head, my lord.
Nero. His tongue had been enough.
Tig. I did as you commanded me, my lord.
Nero. Thou told'st 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 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 corses
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 gods revenge themselves and so will we:
Where right is scant, authority's o'erthrown:
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 bear, and praise too, what we will.

Enter CORNUTUS.

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. [Aside.] You have done that already, and too truly.
Nero. And when our scene is done, I mean besides
To read some compositions of mine own,
Which, for the great opinion I myself
And Rome in general of thy judgment hath,
Before I publish them, I'll show them thee.
Corn. My lord, my disabilities—
Nero. I know thy modesty:
I'll only show thee now my work's beginning.
Go see, Epaphroditus,
Music made ready; I will sing to-day.
[Exit EPAPHRODITUS.
Cornutus, I pray thee come near
And let me hear thy judgment in my pains.
I would have thee more familiar, good Cornutus;
Nero doth prize desert, and more esteems
Them that in knowledge second him, than power.
Mark with what style and state my work begins.
Corn. Might not my interruption offend,
What's your work's name, my lord; what write you of?
Nero. I mean 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. [Reads.
"You enthral powers which the wide fortunes doom
Of empire-crowned seven-mountain-seated Rome
Full blown, inspire me with Machlæan rage
That I may bellow out Rome's prentisage;
As when the Mænades do fill their drums
And crooked horns with Mimallonean hums
And Evion do ingeminate a round,
Which reparable Echo doth resound."
How dost thou like our muse's pains, Cornutus?
Corn. The verses have more in them than I see:
Your work, my lord, I doubt will be too long.
Nero. Too long?
Tig. Too long?
Corn. 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.
Corn. Four hundred! Why, my lord, they'll ne'er be read.
Nero. Ah?
Tig. Why, he whom you esteem so much, Chrysippus, Wrote many more.
Corn. But they were profitable to common life,
And did men honesty and wisdom teach.
Nero. Tigellinus! [Exeunt NERO and TIGELLINUS.
Corn. 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 all except CORNUTUS.
Corn. 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 is nothing in thy power Cornutus
Doth wish or fear.

Re-enter TIGELLINUS.

Tig. 'Tis Nero's pleasure that you straight depart
To Gyaros, and there remain confined:
Thus he out of his princely clemency,
Hath death, your due, turned but to banishment.
Corn. Why, Tigellinus?
Tig. I have done: upon your peril go or stay. [Exit
Corn. And why should death, or banishment be due
For speaking that which was required, my thought?
Oh, why do princes love to be deceived,
And even do force abuses on themselves?
Their 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? Oh, let me go
And dwell in Taurus, dwell in Ethiope,
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.

SCENE III.—A Room in SCÆVINUS' House.

Enter PISO, SCÆVINUS, LUCAN, and 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.
Luc. O Piso, that vouchsafest
To grace our headless party with thy name,
Whom having our conductor, we need not
Have feared to go against the well tried valour
Of Julius or stayedness 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.
Scæv. We seek not now as in the happy days
O' th' commonwealth 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 Scævinus.
Luc. Weakness and servile government we hitherto
Obeyèd 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.
Flav. Which makes it doubtful whether love to him,
Or Nero's hatred, hath drawn more to us.
Piso. I see the good things 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.
Scæv. Who's within?

Enter MILICHUS.

Mil. My lord?
Scæv. Some ink and paper.
[Exit MILICHUS and re-enter with ink and
paper.
Flav. Who's that, Scævinus?
Scæv. It is my freedman, Milichus.
Luc. Is he trusty?
Scæv. Ay, for as great matters as we are about.
Piso. And those are great ones.
Luc. I ask not that we mean to need his trust;
Gain hath great sovereignty o'er servile minds.
Scæv. Oh, but my benefits have bound him to me.
I from a bondman have his state not only
Advanced to freedom, but to wealth and credit.
Piso. Milichus, wait i' th' next chamber till we call.
[MILICHUS retires.
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.
Mil. [Aside] 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?
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.
Mil. [Aside] Besides, this coming cannot be for form
Or visitation; they go aside
And have long conferences by themselves.
Luc. Piso, his coming to your house at Baiæ
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.
Piso. Oh, 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 plot, nor Piso's name made hateful.
What place can better fit our action
Than 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 Veii, if that Veii too
This house o'errun not.
Luc. But 'twill be hard to do it in his house,
And harder to escape, being done.
Piso. Not so:
Rufus, the captain of the guard, 's with us,
And divers others o'th' prætorian 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 anything.
Mil. [Aside] No private business can concern them
Their countenances are troubled and look sad, [all;
Doubt and importance in their face is read.
Luc. Yet still I think it were
Safer t' attempt him private and alone.
Flav. 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.
Scæv. Our deed is honest, why should it seek corners?
'Tis for the public done, let them behold it;
Let me have them as witness of my truth
And love of th' commonwealth. The danger's greater,
So is the glory. Why should our pale counsels
Tend whither 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 e'er be done;
And when we first gave hands upon this deed,
To th' common safety we our own gave up.
Let no man venture on a prince's death,
How bad soever, with belief to 'scape;
Despair must be our hope, fame our 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 to truly make a tragedy
When all the people cannot choose but clap
So sweet a close; and 'twill not Cæsar be
That will be slain, a Roman prince;
'Twill be Alcmæon or blind Œdipus.
Mil. [Aside] And if it be of public matters, 'tis not
Like to be talk or idle fault-finding,
On which the cowardly only spend their wisdom:
These are all men of action and of spirit,
And dare perform what they determine on.
Luc. What think you of Poppæa, Tigellinus,
And th' other odious instruments of court?
Were it not best at once to rid them all?
Scæv. In Cæsar's ruin Anthony was spared;
Let not our cause with needless blood be stained.
One only moved, the change will not appear;
When too much license given to the sword,
Though against ill, will make even good men fear.
Besides, things settled, you at pleasure may
By law and public judgment have them rid.
Mil. [Aside] 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,
That's alteration of the government,
The common cloak that treason's muffled in:
If laying force aside, to seek by suit
And fair petition t' have the state reformed,
That's tutoring 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, Scævinus,
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.
Scæv. Virtue and heaven speed it, O you home-born
Gods of our country, Romulus and Vesta,
That Tuscan Tiber and Rome's towers defend,
Forbid not yet at length a happy end
To former evils; let this hand revenge
The wrongèd world; enough we now have suffered
[Exeunt all except MILICHUS.
Mil. [Coming forward]. Tush, all this long consulting's more than
words,
It ends not there; they've some attempt, some plot
Against the state: well, I'll observe it farther,
And if I find it, make my profit of it. [Exit.

ACT THE THIRD.

SCENE I.—A Room in the Golden House of NERO.

Enter POPPÆA.

POP. I looked Nimphidius would have come e'er 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 Poppæa doth prefer it?
Or doth he think to have occasion still,
Still to have time to wait on our stol'n meetings?
[Enter NIMPHIDIUS.
But see, his presence now doth end those doubts.
What is't, Nimphidius, hath so long detained you?
Nim. Faith, lady, causes strong enough,
High walls, barred doors, and guards of armèd men.
Pop. Were you imprisoned then, as you were going
To the theatre?
Nim. Not in my going, lady,
But in the theatre I was imprisoned.
For after he was once upon the stage
The gates were more severely looked into
Than at a town besieged; no man, no cause
Was current, 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 than 'twas for him 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 tediousness;
No pain so irksome as a forced 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.
Pop. If 'twere so straightly kept how gat you forth?
Nim. Faith, lady, I came pretending haste
In place and countenance, told them I was sent
For things by th' 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.
Pop. What danger mean you?
Nim. The danger of his anger when he knows
How I thus shrank away; for there stood knaves
That put down in their tables all that stirred,
And marked in each their cheerfulness or sadness.
Pop. 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. Oh, do not drive me to those hateful pains.
Lady, I was too much in seeing vexed;
Let it not be redoubled in the telling.
I now am well and hear, my ears set free;
Oh, be merciful, do not bring me back
Unto my prison; at least free yourself.
It will not pass away, but stay the time;
Wreak out the hours in length. Oh, give me leave,
As one that wearied with the toil at sea
And now on wishèd 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 thoughts be compassed in those circled eyes,
Eyes on no object look but on these cheeks;
Blessed be my hands with touching such round breasts
Whiter and softer than the down of swans:
Let me of thee and of thy beauty's glory
An endless tell, but never wearying story. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.—Another Room in the Golden House of NERO.

Enter NERO, EPAPHRODITUS, and 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 was this counterfeiting.
Nero. And when I came
To th' point of Agripp _____Clytæmnestra's death,
Did it not move the feeling auditory?
Epaph. They had been stones whom that could not have moved.
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 Cæsar,
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, Pangæus bowed his head,
Ossa then first shook off his snow and came
To listen to the movings of his song;
The gentle poplar took the bay along,
And called the pine down from the mountain seat;
The virgin bay, although the arts she hates
O' th' delphic god, was with his voice o'ercome:
He his twice-lost Eurydice bewails
And Proserpine's vain gifts, and makes the shores
And hollow caves of forests, now untreed,
Bear his griefs 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 lyre.
I oft have walked by Tiber's flow'ry 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.

Nero. But here comes Tigellinus; come, thy bill.
Are there so many? I see I have enemies.
Epaph. Hath he put Caius in? I saw him frown.
Neoph. And in the midst o' th' Emperor's action
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 Thrasea look so sourly on us?
Tig. He never smiled, my lord, nor would vouchsafe
With one applaause 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.
Oh, could I live to see the general end,
Behold the world enwrapped in funeral flames,
Whenas the sun shall lend his beams to burn
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 mortal things,
Let me give up this breath. Priam was happy,
Happy indeed; he saw his Troy burnt
And Ilion lie in heaps, whilst thy pure streams,
Divine Scamander, did run Phrygian blood,
And heard the pleasant cries of Trojan mothers.
Could I see Rome so!
Tig. Your majesty may easily,
Without this trouble to your sacred mind.
Nero. What may I easily do? kill him, or thee?
How may I rid you all? Where is the man
That will all others end and last himself?
Oh, that I had thy thunder in my hand,
Thou idle rover, I'd not shoot at trees
And spend in woods my unregarded vengeance;
I'd shiver 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 of,
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 mothers' blood;
Tush, that's but innocent to what now I mean.
Alas, what evil could those years commit!
The world in this shall see my settled wit. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.—A Street in Rome.

Enter SENECA and PETRONIUS.

Sen. Petronius, you were at the theatre?
Pet. Seneca, I was and saw your kingly pupil
In ministrel's 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 Cæsar doubted first to be o'erborne,
And so he joined himself to th' other singers
And straightly all the 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 disgraced,
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.
Sen. Nay, come 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 monach now command in jest,_____
Our prince be Agamemnon in a play!
Pet. Why, Seneca, 'tis better in play
Be Agamemnon than himself indeed.
How oft, with danger of the field beset,
Or with home's mutinies would he unbe
Himself; or, over cruel altars weeping,
Wish that with putting off a vizard he
Might his true inward sorrow lay aside:
The shows of things are better than themselves.
How doth it stir this airy part in us
To hear our poets tell imagined fights
And the strange blows that feignèd 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 mars this bravery, and the ugly fears
Of th' other world sit on the proudest brow,
And boasting valour looseth his red cheek.

Enter two Romans.

1st Rom. Fire, fire! help, we burn!
2nd Rom. Fire, water! fire, help! fire!
Sen. Fire! Where?
Pet. Where? what fire?
1st Rom. O round about, here, there, on every side
The girdling flame doth with unkind embraces
Compass the city.
Pet. How came this fire? by whom?
Sen. Was't chanced or purposed?
Pet. Why is't not quenched?
1st Rom. Alas, there are many there with weapons,
And whether it be for prey or by command
They hinder, nay, they throw on fire-brands.

Enter ANTONIUS.

Ant. 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 unweeting shepherd on a rock afar
Amazèd 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;
T'other his house-god saves, which could not him;
All bann the doer, and with wishes kill
Their absent murderer.
Pet. What, are the Gauls returned?
Doth Brennus brandish fire-brands again?
Sen. What can heaven now unto our suff'rings add?

Enter another Roman.

3rd Rom. Oh, all goes down, Rome falleth to the root;
The wind's aloft, the conquering flame turns all
Into itself, nor do the gods escape;
Alcides burns, Jupiter Stator burns;
The altar now is made a sacrifice,
And Vesta mourns to see her virgin fires
Mingle with profane ashes.
Sen. 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 consuls 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 Cannæ come,
Let Allia's waters turn again to blood;
To these will any miseries be light.
Pet. 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 one end should be for th' world and it?
What, can celestial godheads double too?
Sen. O Rome, the envy iate
But now the pity of the world! the Getes,
The men of Colchis at thy sufferings grieve;
The shaggy dweller in the Scythian rocks,
The Mosch condemnèd to perpetual snows
That never wept at kindred's burials,
Suffers with thee and feels his heart to soften.
Oh, should the Parthian heart these miseries
He would, his bow and native hate apart,
Sit down with us and lend an enemy's tear
To grace the funeral fires of ending Rome. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.—The House of MÆCENAS: the Street below.

Soft music. Enter NERO above with a timbrel.

Nero. Ay! now my Troy looks beauteous in her flames;
The Tyrrhene seas are bright with Roman fires,
Whilst the amazèd mariner afar,
Gazing on th' unknown light, wonders what star
Heaven hath begot to ease the agèd 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 forgives
The ten-years' siege 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.

Wom. 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 a dead body.

Man. O father, speak yet! No, the merciless blow
Hath all bereft, speech, motion, sense, and life.
Wom. O beauteous innocence, whiteness ill blacked,
How to be made a coal could'st thou deserve?
Man. O rev'rend wrinkles, well becoming paleness,
Why hath death now life's colours given thee
And mocked thee with the beauties of fresh youth?
Wom. 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.
Wom. Where are thy flattering smiles, thy pretty kisses
And arms that wont to wreath about my neck?
Man. Where are thy counsels, where thy good examples,
And that kind roughness of a father's anger?
Wom. Whom have I now to lean my old age on?
Who will abide those weary wayward years,
A burthen even to more than to the feelers?
Man. Who shall I now have to set right my youth?
Where shall I fetch so true and sound advice,
Proceeding from a free and open heart?
[Within.] Gods, 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,
And make it doubtful to the gods above
Whether the earth be pleased or do complain. [Sings.
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 corse like this all wounds and gore;
Be there no friends at hand, no standers by
In love or pity moved to close that eye:
Oh, let him die, the hate and wished of all,
And not a tear to grace his funeral! [Exit.
Wom. Heaven, you will hear that which the world doth scorn,
The prayers of misery and souls forlorn:
Your anger waxeth by delaying stronger;
Oh, now for mercy, me despised no longer!
Let him that makes so many mothers childless,
Make his unhappy in her fruitfulness;
Let him no issue leave to bear his name,
Or son to right a father's wrongèd fame:
Our flames to quit, be righteous in your ire,
And when he dies let him want funeral fire. [Exit.
Nero. Let Heaven do what it will, this I have done;
Already do you feel my fury's 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, unrelenting eyes, what crave you more?

Enter NEOPHILUS.

Neoph. Oh, save yourself, my lord; your palace burns.
Nero. My palace! how? what traitorous hand?

Enter TIGELLINUS.

Tig. Oh, 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: Oh, fly and save your life.
Nero. Heaven, thou dost strive, I see, for victory.
[Exeunt.

SCENE V.—A Street in Rome.

Enter NIMPHIDIUS.

Nim. See how fate works unto their purposed end,
And without all self-industry will raise
Whom they determine to make great and happy!
Nero thrusts down himself, I stir him not;
He runs unto destruction, studies ways
To compass danger and attain the hate
Of all. Be his own wishes on his head,
Nor Rome with fire more than revenges burn!
Let me stand still, or lie, or sleep, I rise.
Poppæa some new favour will seek out
My wakings to salute; I cannot stir
But messages 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 state and throne is ours:
He's next in right that hath the strongest powers. [Exit.

SCENE VI.—A Room in SCÆVINUS' House.

Enter ScÆVINUS and MILICHUS.

Scæv. O Troy, and O ye souls of our forefathers
Which in your country's fires were offered up,
How near your nephews to your fortunes came.
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 corses 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 chosen out, and people's love
Could not but by these 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.
Mil. [Aside.] 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.
Scæv. I have from Fortune's 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 poets blame,
Speed thou the weapon which I have from thee.
'Twas not amid thy temple's monuments
In vain reposed; somewhat I know't hath done:
Oh, with new honours let it be laid up!
Strike boldly, arm; so many powerful prayers
Of dead and living hover over thee.
Mil. [Aside.] And though sometimes with talk impertinent
And idle fancies he would feign a mirth,
Yet it is easy seen somewhat is here
The which he dares not let his face make show of.
Scæv. Long want of use hath made it dull and blunt:
See, Milichus, this weapon better edged.
Mil. Sharp'ning of swords! What! must we then have blows?
Or means my master, Cato-like, to exempt
Himself from power of Fates, and, cloyed with life,
Give the gods back their unregarded gift?
[Aside.] But he hath neither Cato's mind nor cause;
A man given o'er to pleasure and soft ease,
Which makes me still to doubt how in affairs
Of princes he dares meddle or desires.
Scæv. We shall have blows on both sides, Milichus.
Provide me store of cloths to bind up wounds.
What an't be hurt for hurt; death is the worst!
The gods sure keep it hid 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 stanch blood: see them sought out.—
This world I see hath no felicity:
I'll try the other.
Mil. [Aside.] Nero's life is sought;
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 freedmen to his aid.
Besides, his counsellors, Seneca
And Lucan, are no managers of quarrels,
High spirits soaring still at great attempts,
And such whose wisdoms to their other wrongs
Distaste the baseness of the government.
Scæv. 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 unquenchèd fires. [Exit.
Mil. Why do I further idly stand debating?
My proofs are but too many and too frequent,
And princes' ears still to suspicions open.
Who ever, being but accused, was quit?
For states are wise and cut off ills that may be:
Mean men must die that others 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.

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE I.—A Room in the Golden House of NERO.

Enter NERO, POPPÆA, NIMPHIDIUS, TIGELLINUS, NEOPHILUS, and
EPAPHRODITUS.

NERO. This kiss, sweet love, I force from thee, and this;
And of such spoils and victories be more proud
Than if I had the fierce Pannonian
Or gray-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'll give my freedom up
And put on my own chains;
I am in love with my captivity.
Such Venus is, when on the sandy shore
Of Xanthus or on Ida's pleasant green
She leads the dance; her, the nymphs all a-row
And smiling Graces, do accompany.
If Bacchus could his straggling minion
Grace with a glorious wreath of shining stars,
Why should not heaven my Poppæa crown?
The northern team shall move into a round,
New constellations rise to honour thee;
The earth shall woo thy favours, and the sea
Lay his rich shells and treasures at thy feet.
For thee Hydaspes shall throw up his gold,
Panchaia breathe 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.
Pop. Ay, now I am worthy to be queen o' th' world,
Fairer than Venus or than Bacchus' love;
But you'll anon unto your cut-boy Sporus,
Your new-made woman, to whom now, I hear,
You are wedded to.
Nero. I wedded?
Pop. Ay! you wedded.
Did you not hear the words o' th' Auspices?
Was not the boy in bride-like garments drest?
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.

Enter MILICHUS.

Nero. You're froward, fool; you're still so bitter. Who's that?
Nim. 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!
Mil. '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 the circumstance? thou wrack'st my thoughts.
Mil. My lord, your life's conspired against.
Nero. By whom?
Mil. I must be of the world excused in this,
If the great duty to your majesty
Makes me all other lesser to neglect.
Nero. Th'art a tedious fellow.
Tig. Speak, by whom?
Mil. By my master.
Nero. Who's thy master?
Mil. Scævinus.
Pop. Scævinus? 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?
Mil. I think Natalis, Subrius Flavius,
Lucan, Seneca, and Lucius Piso,
Asper, and Quintianus.
Nero. Ha' done,
Thou'lt reckon all Rome anon; and so thou may'st,
They're villains all, I'll not trust one of them.
Oh, that the Romans had all but one neck!
Pop. Piso's sly creeping into men's affections
And popular arts have given long cause of doubt,
And th' others' late observèd discontents,
Risen from misinterpreted disgraces,
May make us credit this relation.
Nero. Where are they? come they not upon us yet?
See my guard doubled, see the gates shut up!
Why, they'll surprise us in our court anon.
Mil. 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.
Tig. 'Twere better first to publish them traitors.
Nim. That were to make them so
And force them all upon their enmities.
Now without stir or hazard they'll be ta'en,
And boldly trial dare and law demand;
Besides, the accusation may be forged
By malice or mistaking.
Pop. 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?
Nim. Ay, to himself. 'Twould make the matter clear
Which now upon one servant's credit stands.
The city's favour keeps within the bounds
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 armèd companies;
Then, if they stir, they see their wives and houses
Prepared a prey to th' greedy soldier.
Pop. Let us be quick then, you to Piso's house,
While I and Tigellinus further sift
This fellow's knowledge.
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.
[Exeunt all except NERO
But who shall watch these watches? What if they
Begin and play the traitors first? Oh, where shall I
Seek faith, or them that I may wisely trust?
The city favours the conspirators;
The senate in disgrace and fear hath lived;
The camp—why, most are soldiers that he 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 courts of kings.
O sweet despisèd joys of poverty,
A happiness unknown unto the gods!
Would I had rather in poor Gabii
Or Ulubrae, a ragged magistrate,
Sat as a judge of measures and of corn
Than the adorèd 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.

SCENE II.—A Room in SCÆVINUS' House.

Enter PISO, LUCAN, SCÆVINUS and FLAVIUS.

Flav. But since we are discovered, what remains
But put our lives upon our hands? These swords
Shall try us traitors or true citizens.
Scæv. 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 and Tiberius' craft,
But Tigellinus and Chrysogonus,
Eunuchs and women that we go against.
Scæv. This for thy own sake, this for ours we beg,
That thou wilt suffer him to be o'ercome;
Why should'st thou keep so many vowèd swords
From such a hated throat?
Flav. Or shall we fear
To trust unto the gods so good a cause?
Luc. By this we may ourselves heaven's favour promise,
Because all nobleness and worth on earth
We see's on our side. Here the Fabii's sons,
Here the Corvini are, and take that part
Their 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 passèd dangers or hot blood makes bold;
Staid men suppressed 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.
Scæv. And not adventure what by stoutness can
Befall us worse than will by cowardice:
If both the people and the soldier failed us
Yet shall we die worthy at least ourselves,
Worthy our ancestors. O Piso, think,
Think on that day when in the Parthian field
Thou cried'st to the flying legions to turn
And look death in the face; he was not grim,
But fair and lovely when he came in arms.
Oh, why there died we not on Syrian swords?
Were we reserved to prisons and to chains?
Behold the gallows is 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 than 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 refuse that do fill the city.
Piso. Part of us are already tak'n; 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 Euphrates and the Median fields,
Not Tiber colour? And the more you show
Your loves and readiness to loose your lives,
The lother I am to adventure them.
Yet am I proud you would for me have died;
But live and keep yourselves for 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 be long in talk of dying would
Show a relenting and a doubtful mind:
By this you shall my quiet thoughts intend;
I blame not earth nor heaven for my end. [Dies.
Luc. Oh, that this noble courage had been shown
Rather on enemies' breasts than on thy own.
Scæv. But sacred and inviolate be thy will,
And let it lead and teach us.
This sword I could more willingly have thrust
Through Nero's breast; that Fortune hath denied me,
It now shall through Scævinus. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.—A Room in the Golden House of NERO.

Enter TIGELLINUS.

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 appeached,
And every man brings in a 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 shine together. Zounds! I think,
'Twere best to 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 do 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 eyes,
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
That some have namèd Seneca; and I
Will have Petronius. One promise of pardon
Or fear of torture will accusers find. [Exit.

SCENE IV.—A Prison in Rome.

Enter NIMPHIDIUS, LUCAN, and SCÆVINUS, with a Guard.

Nim. Though Piso's suddenness and guilty hand
Prevented hath the death he should have had,
Yet you abide it must.
Luc. Oh, may the earth lie lightly on his corse!
Sprinkle his ashes with your flowers and tears;
The love and dainty of mankind is gone!
Scæv. What only now we can, we'll follow thee
That way thou lead'st and wait on thee in death,
Which we had done had not these hindered us.
Nim. Nay, other ends your grievous crimes await,
Ends which the law and your deserts impose.
Scæv. Why, what have we deserved?
Nim. That punishment that traitors unto princes,
And enemies to the state they live in, merit.
Scæv. 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.
Nim. Why, what can you i' th' government mislike,
Unless it grieve you that the world's in peace
Or that our armies conquer without blood?
Hath not his power with foreign visitations
And stranger's honour more acknowledged been
Than any was before 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 it not crowned by him, by him doth reign?
If we have any war, it's beyond Rhine
And Euphrates, and such whose different chances
Have rather served for pleasure and discourse
Than 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
Have the best judges pleased, the powers divine,
Their blessings and so long prosperity
Of th' empire under him, enough declare.
Scæv. 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 Cæsar'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 was't unsafe
T' offend the prince; his freedmen 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 Cæsar's benefit;
Our writings pried into, false guiltiness,
Thinking each taxing pointed out itself;
Our private whisperings listened after; nay,
Our thoughts were forcèd out of us and punished;
And had it been in you to have ta'en away
Our understanding as you did our speech,
You would have made us thought this honest too.
Nim. Can malice narrow eyes?
See anything yet more it can traduce!
Scæv. His long-continued taxes I forbear,
In which he chiefly showed himself a prince;
His robbing altars, sale of holy things,
The antique goblets of adorèd rust
And sacred gifts of kings and people sold.
Nor was the spoil more odious than the use
They were employed in; spent on shame and lust,
Which still have been so endless in their change,
And made us know a divers servitude.
But that he hath been sufferèd so long,
And prospered, as you say, for that to thee,
O heaven! I turn myself to thee and cry, "No god
Hath care of us!" Yet have we our revenge,
As much as earth may be revenged on heaven:
This divine honour Nero shall usurp,
And prayers and feasts and adoration have
As well as Jupiter.
Nim. Away, blaspheming tongue,
Be ever silent for thy bitterness. [Exeunt

SCENE V.—A Room in the Golden House of NERO.

Enter NERO, POPPÆA, TIGELLINUS, FLAVIUS, NEOPHILUS, EPAPHRODITUS,
and Guard with a Young Man.

Nero. What could cause thee,
Forgetful of my benefits and thy oath,
To seek my life?
Flav. Nero, I hated thee;
Nor was there any of thy soldiers
More faithful, whilst thou faith deserv'dst, than I.
Together did I leave to be a subject,
And thou a prince. Cæsar was now become
A player on the stage, a waggoner,
A burner of our houses and of us,
A parricide of wife and mother.
Tig. Villain! dost know where and of whom thou speak'st?
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.
Tig. Come, sirrah!
We'll see how stoutly you'll stretch out your neck.
Flav. Would thou durst strike as stoutly!
[Exeunt TIGELLINUS and FLAVIUS.
Nero. And what's he there?
Epaph. One that in whisp'ring I o'erheard
What pity 'twas, my lord, that Piso died.
Nero. And why was't pity, sirrah, Piso died?
Young M. My lord, 'twas pity he deserved to die.
Pop. [Aside.] How much this youth my Otho doth resemble;
Otho my first, my best love who is now,
Under pretext of governing, exiled
To Lusitania, 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 M. The gods forbid my prince should pity need.
Somewhat the sad remembrance did me stir
O' th' frail and weak condition of our kind,
Somewhat his greatness, than whom yesterday
The world, but Cæsar, could show nothing higher:
Besides, some virtues and some worth he had,
That might excuse my pity to an end
So cruel and unripe.
Pop. [Aside.] I know not how this stranger moves my mind.
His face, methinks, is not like other mens',
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 to, had you power:
You can but pity, else you'd Cæsar fear;
Your ill affection then shall punished be.
Take him to execution; he shall die
That the death pities of mine enemy.
Young M. This benefit at least
Sad death shall give, to free me from the power
Of such a government; and if I die
For pitying human chance and Piso's end,
There will be some, too, that will pity mine.
Pop. [Aside.] Oh, what a dauntless look, what sparkling eyes,
Threat'ning in suffering! Sure some noble blood
Is hid in rags; fear argues a base spirit;
In him what courage and contempt of death!
And shall I suffer one I love to die?
[Aloud] He shall not die. Hands off this man Away!
Nero, thou shalt not kill this guiltless man.
Nero. He guiltless, strumpet!
[Strikes POPPÆA, who falls.
She is in love with the smooth face of the boy.
Neoph. Alas, my lord, you have slain her.
Epaph. Help, help, she dies!
Nero. Poppæa, Poppæa, 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 break the iron gates of hell
And loose the imprisoned shadows of the deep,
And force from death this far too worthy prey.
She is not dead:
The crimson red that like the morning shows,
When from her windows, all with roses strewed,
She peepeth forth, forsakes not yet her cheeks;
Her breath, that like a honey-suckle smelt,
Twining about the prickling eglantine,
Yet moves her lips; those quick and piercing eyes
That did in beauty challenge heaven's eyes,
Yet shine as they were wont! Oh, no, they do not;
See how they grow obscure! Oh, 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 Pleiades, 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.
[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.—A Room in SENECA'S Villa.

Enter SENECA with two of his Friends.

Sen. What means your mourning, this ungrateful sorrow?
Where are your precepts of philosophy,
Where our preparèd resolution
So many years fore-studied against danger?
To whom is Nero's cruelty unknown,
Or what remained after his mother's blood,
But his instructor's death? Leave, leave those tears;
Death from me nothing takes but what's a burthen,
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, untouchèd of the grave.
1st 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.
2nd 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.
Sen. Be not afraid, my soul; go cheerfully
To thy own heaven from whence at first let down.
Thou loathly this imprisoning flesh put'dst 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 diffused
Of this vast All, guid'st that thou dost inform;
You blessèd 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.

SCENE VII.—A Room in a Villa at Cuma.

Enter ANTONIUS and ENANTHE.

Ant. Sure this message of the prince's,
So grievous and unlooked for, will appal
Petronius much.
Enan. Will not death any man?
Ant. It will; but him so much the more
That, having lived to his pleasure, shall forego
So delicate a life. I do not marvel
That Seneca and such sour fellows can
Leave that they never tasted, but when we
That have the nectar of thy kisses felt,
That drinks away the troubles of this life
And but one banquet makes of forty years,
Must come to leave this—But soft, here he is.

Enter Petronius and a Centurion.

Pet. Leave me a while, centurion, to my friends;
Let me my farewell take, and thou shalt see
Nero's commandment quickly obeyed in me.
[Exit Centurion.
Come, let us drink and dash the posts with wine!
Here throw your flowers; fill me a swelling bowl
Such as Mæcenas or my Lucan drank
On Virgil's birthday.
Enan. What means, Petronius, this unseasonable
And causeless mirth? Why, comes not from the prince
This man to you a messenger of death?
[They bring wine.
Pet. Here, fair Enanthe, whose plump, ruddy cheek
Exceeds the grape that makes this— here, my girl!
[Drinks.
And think'st thou death a matter of such horror?
Why, he must have this pretty dimpling chin,
And will peck out those eyes that now so wound.
Enan. Why, it is not th' extremest of all ills?
Pet. It is indeed the last and end of ills:
The gods, before they'd let us taste death's joys,
Placed us i' th' toils 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,
Put forth their fair hands to you and invite
To their green arbours and close shadowed walks,
Whence banished is the roughness of our years:
Only the west wind blows, 'tis ever spring
And ever summer. There the laden boughs
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 Love's devising, sit and gently sport;
And all the while melodious music hear
And poets' songs that music far exceed;
The old Anacreon crowned with smiling flowers,
And amorous Sappho on her Lesbian lute
Beauty's sweet scars and Cupid's godhead sing.
Ant. What! be not ravished with thy fancies; do not
Court nothing, or make love unto our fears!
Pet. Is't nothing that I say?
Ant. But empty words.
Pet. Why, thou requir'st 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 appetites anew to theirs?
Ant. 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.
Pet. Your pleasures must of force resign to these
In vain you shun the sword, in vain the sea,
In vain is Nero feared or flatterèd:
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.
Ant. Faith 'tis true, we must at length;
But yet, Petronius. while we may awhile
We would enjoy them; those we have we're sure of,
When that you talk of 's doubtful and to come.
Pet. Perhaps thou think'st 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, even endure now;
Nor stay not to be last at table set.
Each best day of our life at first doth go,
To them succeeds diseasèd age and woe;
Now die your pleasures, and the days you pray
Your rhymes and loves and jests will take away.
And therefore, my sweet, thou wilt go with me,
And not live here to what thou wouldst not see.
Enan. Would you have me then kill myself, and die,
And go I know not to what places there?
Pet. What places dost thou fear?
Th' ill-favoured lake they tell thee, thou must pass,
And the black frogs that croak about the brim?
Enan. Oh, pardon her, though death affrights a woman
Whose pleasures though you timely here divine,
The pains we know and see.
Pet. 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 past it are.
Enan. Yet all, as well as I, are loth to die.
Pet. Judge them by deed, you see them do't apace.
Enan. Ay, but 'tis lothly and against their wills.
Pet. Yet know you not that any, being dead,
Repented them and would have lived again.
They then their errors saw and foolish prayers,
But you are blinded in the love of life:
Death is but sweet to them that do approach.
To me, as one that ta'en 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?

Enter Physician.

Phy. Here, my lord.
Pet. Art ready?
Phy. Ay, my lord.
Pet. And I for thee:
Nero, my end shall mock thy tyranny. [Exeunt.

ACT THE FIFTH.

SCENE I.—A Room in the Golden House of NERO

Enter NERO, NIMPHIDIUS, TIGELLINUS, NEOPHILUS, EPAPHRODITUS and
other
ATTENDANTS.

NERO. Enough is wept, Poppæa, 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?
Tig. Besides, your majesty this benefit
In this deservèd 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.
Nim. 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 state about;
There is no place for fear left.
Nero. Why, I never fearèd them.
Nim. That was your fault:
Your majesty might 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 with it are 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 of the provinces,
In one united, against me conspire,
I could disperse them with one angry eye;
My brow's a host of men. Come, Tigellinus,
Let's turn this bloody banquet Piso meant us,
Into a merry feast; we'll drink and challenge
Fortune. Who's that Neophilus?

Enter a Messenger.

Neoph. A courier from beyond the Alps, my lord.
Nero. News of some German victory, belike,
Or Britain overthrown.
Neoph. The letters come from France.
Nim. Why smiles your majesty?
Nero. Do I smile? I should be afraid;
There's one in arms against me, Nimphidius.
Nim. What, armed against your majesty?
Nero. Our lieutenant of the province, Julius Vindex.
Tig. Who, that giddy Frenchman?
Nim. His province is disarmed, my lord; he hath
No legion nor a soldier under him.
Epaph. One that by blood and rapine would repair
His state consumed in vanities and lust.

Enter another Messenger.

Tig. He will not find out three to follow him.
Nim. 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 noblemen 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 breathe.
Nero. All this fierce talk's but "Vindex doth rebel",
And I will hang him.
Tig. How long came you forth after the former messenger?
Mess. Four days; but by the benefit of sea
And weather I arrived with him.
Nim. How strong was Vindex at your setting forth?
Mess. He was esteemed a hundred thousand.
Tig. Men enough.
Nim. And soldiers few enough:
Tumultuary troops, undisciplined,
Untrained in service, to waste victuals good;
But when they come to look on war's 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 enjoyèd peace.
Tig. What order will your majesty have taken
For levying forces to suppress this stir?
Nero. What order should we take? We'll laugh and drink.
Think'st thou 'tis fit my pleasures be disturbed
When any Frenchman lists to break his neck!
They have not heard of Piso's fortune yet;
Let that tale fight with them. What order needs!
Nim. Your majesty shall find
This French heat quickly of itself grow cold.
Nero. Come away:
Nothing can come that this night's sport can stay.
[Exeunt NERO, NIMPHIDIUS, TIGELLINUS, and Attendants.
Neoph. What makes, I wonder, him so confident
In this revolt now grown unto a war,
And ensigns in the field; when in the other,
Being but the plot of a conspiracy,
He showed himself so wretchedly dismayed?
Epaph. Faith, the right nature of a coward to slight
Dangers that seem far off. Piso was here,
Ready to enter at the presence-door
And drag him out of his abusèd 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 ta'en the court in that affright and stir
While unresolved for whom or what to do
Each only other had in jealousy,
While as appallèd majesty not yet
Had time to set the countenance,—
Neoph. He would
Have hazarded the royal seat.
Epaph. 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.
Neoph. But for a stranger with a naked province,
Without allies or friends i' th' state, to challenge
A prince upheld with thirty legions,
Royal in four descents of ancestors,
And fourteen years continuance of reign,
Why it is—

Enter NERO, NIMPHIDIUS, and Tigellinus.

Nero. Galba and Spain? What? Spain and Galba too?
[Exeunt NERO and NIMPHIDIUS.
Epaph. I pray thee, Tigellinus, what fury's this?
What strange event, what accident hath thus
O'ercast your countenances?
Tig. 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 arrives
And tells how Vindex and the powers of France
Have Sergius 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 incensèd rage
Curseth false men and gods the lookers on.
Neoph. His rage, we saw, was wild and desperate.
Epaph. Oh, you unsearchèd wisdoms which do laugh
At our securities and fears alike,
And plan 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.

SCENE II.—A Street in Rome.

Enter NIMPHIDIUS.

Nim. Slow moving 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 conjurèd provinces of Spain,
Nor his own guilt shall like to me oppress him.
I to his easy yielding fears proclaim
New German mutinies 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 ANTONIUS.

Ant. [Aside.] Yonder's Nimphidius, our commander now:
I with respect must speak and smooth my brow.
[Aloud.] Captain, all hail!
Nim. Antonius, well met.
Your place of tribune in this anarchy_____
Ant. This anarchy, my lord? Is Nero dead?
Nim. This anarchy, this yet unstilted time
While Galba is unseizèd of the empire
Which Nero hath forsook.
Ant. Hath Nero then resigned the empire?
Nim. In effect he hath, for he is fled to Egypt
Ant. My lord, you tell strange news to me.
Nim. But nothing strange to me,
Who every moment knew of his despairs.
The couriers 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.
Ant. Thrust with report and rumours from his seat!
My lord, I know the emperor depends on you
As you determine.
Nim. There it lies Antonius.
What should we do? It boots not to rely
On Nero's sinking 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 Galba.
Therefore I'll straight proclaim a donative
Of thirty thousand sesterces a man.
Ant. 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?
Nim. Howe'er he like of it he must avow it,
If by our promise he be once engaged;
And since the soldiers' 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. [Exit.
Ant. So you be thanked it skills not who prevails,
Galba or Nero, traitor to them both!
You give it out that Nero's fled to Egypt,
Who, with the fright 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 practices 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 gain the soldiers' favour.
Now is the time to quit Poppæa's scorn
And his rivallity. I'll straight reveal
His treacheries to Galba's agents here. [Exit.

SCENE III.—A Room in PHAON'S Villa.

Enter TIGELLINUS with the Guard.

Tig. You see what issue things do sort unto;
Yet may we hope not only impunity,
But with our fellows part o' th' gift proclaimed.
Guard. Here he comes.

Enter NERO.

Nero. Whither go you? stay, my friends;
Tis Cæsar calls you; stay, my loving friends.
Tig. 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 you knew!
Tig. 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.
Tig. 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 forcèd ministers and a part of wrong.
[Exeunt all except NERO.
Nero. Oh, now I see the vizard from my face,
So lovely and so fearful, is fall'n off;
That vizard, shadow, nothing,—majesty
Which, like a child acquainted with his fears,
Whilom men trembled at and now contemn.
Nero forsaken is of all the world,
The world of truth. Oh, fall some vengeance down
Equal unto their falsehoods and my wrongs!
Might I ascend 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 Jove! dissolve with Cæsar Cæsar'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.

1st Rom. Though others, bound with greater benefits,
Have left your changèd fortunes and do run
Whither new hopes do call them, yet come we.
Nero. Oh, welcome! come you to adversity!
Welcome, true friends. Why, there is faith on earth
Of thousand servants, friends and followers,—
Ye two are left. Your countenance, methinks,
Gives comfort and new hopes
2nd 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 fiercer cruelty,
And scorn more cruel to a worthy soul.
1st Rom. The Senate have decreed you're punishable
After the fashion of our ancestors,
Which is, your neck being lockèd 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 mind,
My government preferred to ancient times,
And challenged Numa to compare with me?
Have they so horrible an end sought out?
No, here I bear that 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!
Oh, 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 wand'rest thou, my soul,
Under th' earth in dark, damp, dusky vaults?
Or shall I now to nothing be resolved?
My fears become my hopes; Oh, would I might.
Methinks, I see the boiling Phlegethon
And the dull people 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^1^ unto authority,
Nor favour the oppressions of the great!
1st Rom. These are the idle terrors of the night,
Which wise men, though they teach, do not believe,
To curb our pleasures feigned, and aid the weak;—
2nd Rom. Death's wrongful defamation, which would make
Us shun this happy haven of our rest,
This end of evils, as some fearful harm;—
1st Rom. Shadows and fond imaginations,
Which now, you see, on earth but children fear.
2nd 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?
1st Rom. Would heaven and stars necessity compel^2^
Us to do that which after it would punish?
2nd Rom. Let us not after our lives' end believe
More than we felt before it.
Nero. If any words had made me confident,
And boldly do for hearing others speak
Boldly, these might. 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?
1st Rom. No necessity of death
Hangs o'er our heads, no dangers threaten us,
Nor Senate's sharp decree, nor Galba's arms.
2nd Rom. Is this the thanks, then, thou dost pay our love?
Die basely and as such a life deserved!
Reserve thyself to punishment, and scorn
Of Rome and of thy laughing enemies!
[Exeunt the two Romans.
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 Rhadamant are more pitiless.

Re-enter the 1st Roman.

1st 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!
Oh, whither shall I fly?
1st Rom. Thou hast no choice.
Nero. Oh, whither must I fly? Hard is his hap
Who from death only must by death escape!
Where are they yet? Oh, may not I a little
Bethink myself?
1st Rom. They are at hand; hark, thou may'st hear the noise.
Nero. O Rome, farewell! Farewell, you theatres
Where I so oft with popular applause
In song and action_____Oh, they come, I die.
[Falls on his sword.
1st 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 Friend of GALBA, ANTONIUS and others, with NIMPHIDIUS
bound.

Fr. of Gal. You both shall die together, traitors both!
He to the commonwealth 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.
[Kills NIMPHIDIUS.
Ant. Who, though he justly perished, yet by thee
Deserved it not; nor ended there thy treason,
But even thought o' th' empire thou conceiv'st.
Galba's disgrace is in receiving that
Which the son of Nimphidia could hope.
1st Rom. Thus great bad men above them find a rod:
People, depart and say there is a God. [Exeunt.

^FOOTNOTES^

^1^ Be sparing.

^2^ i.e. Compel us from necessity to do that, etc.






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