76

Yong. This benefit at least
Sad death shall give, to free me from the power
Of such a government; and if I die
For pitying humane chance and Pisoes end
There will be some too that will pitie mine.
Poppæa. O what a dauntlesse looke, what sparkling
eyes,
(aside)

Threatening in suffering ! sure some noble blood

Is hid in ragges; feares argues a base spirit;

In him what courage and contempt of death !

And shall I suffer one I love to die ?

He shall not die.—Hands of this man ! Away!

Nero, thou shall not kill this guiltlesse man.

Nero. He guiltlesse ? Strumpet !

(Spurns her, and Poppæa falls.)

She is in love with the smooth face of the boy.

Neoph. Alas, my Lord, you have slaine her.

Epaphr. Helpe, she dies.

Nero. Poppæa, Poppæa, speake, I am not angry;

I did not meane to hurt thee; speake, sweet love.

Neoph. She's dead, my Lord.

Nero. Fetch her againe, she shall not die :

Ile ope the Iron gates of hell

And breake the imprisonment shaddowes of the deepe,

And force from death this farre too worthy pray.

She is not dead :

The crimson red that like the morning shone,

When from her windowes (all with Roses strewde)

She peepeth forth, forsakes not yet her cheekes;

Her breath, that like a hony-suckle smelt,

Twining about the prickled Eglintine,

Yet moves her lips; those quicke and piercing eyes,

That did in beautie challenge heaven's eyes,¹

¹ Quy. even skies.

77

Yet shine as they were wont. O no, they doe not ;

See how they grow obscure. O see, they close

And cease to take or give light to the world.

What starres so ere you are assur'd to grace

The ¹ firmament (for, loe, the twinkling fires

Together throng and that cleare milky space,

Of stormes and Phiades and thunder void,

Prepares your roome) do not with wry aspect

Looke on your *Nero*, who in blood shall mourne

Your lucklesse fate, and many a breathing soule

Send after you to waite upon their Queene.

This shall begin ; the rest shall follow after,

And fill the streets with outcryes and with slaughter.

[Exeunt.]

(SCENE 6.)

Enter Seneca with two of his friends.

*Seneca.* What means your mourning, this ungrateful sorrow?

Where are your precepts of Philosophie,
Where our prepared resolution

So many yeeres fore-studied against danger?
To whom is *Neroes* cruelty unknowne,

Or what remained after mothers blood
But his instructors death ? Leave, leave these teares;

Death from me nothing takes but what's a burthen;
A clog to that free sparke of Heavenly fire.

But that in Seneca the which you lov'd,
Which you admir'd, doth and shall still remaine,
Secure of death, untouched of the grave.

¹ Quy. I' the firmament.

78

1 *Friend*. Weele not belie our teares; we waile not thee,
It is our selves and our owne losse we grieve:
To thee what losse in such a change can bee?
Vertue is paid her due by death alone.
To our owne losses do we give these teares,
That loose thy love, thy boundlesse knowledge loose,

Loose the unpatternd sample of thy vertue,
Loose whatsoev'r may praise or sorrow move.
In all these losses yet of this we glory,
That 'tis thy happinesse that makes us sorry.

2 *Friend*. If there be any place for Ghosts of good men,
If (as we have bin long taught) great mens soules
Consume not with their bodies, thou shall see
(Looking from out the dwellings of the ayre)
True duties to thy memorie perform'd;
Not in the outward pompe of funerall,
But in remembrance of thy deeds and words,
The oft recalling of thy many vertues.
The Tombe that shall th'eternall relickes keepe
Of *Seneca* shall be his hearers hearts.

*Seneca*. Be not afraid, my soule; goe cheerefully
To thy owne Heaven, from whence it first let downe.
Thou loathly ¹ this imprisoning flesh putst on;
Now, lifted up, thou ravisht salt behold
The truth of things at which we wonder here,
And foolishly doe wrangle on beneath;
And like a God shall walk the spacious ayre,
And see what even to conceit's deni'd.
Great soule oth' world, that through the parts defus'd
Of this vast All, guid'st what thou dost informe;

¹ 4tos. loath by.

79

You blessed mindes that from the [S]pheares you
move,

Looke on mens actions not with idle eyes,
And Gods we goe to, aid me in this strife
And combat of my flesh that, ending, I
May still shew Seneca and my selfe die.

[Exeunt.]

(SCENE 7.)

*Enter Antonius, Enanthe.*

*Anton.* Sure this message of the Princes,
So grievous and unlookt for, will appall
*Petronius* much.

*Enan.* Will not death any man?

*Anton.* It will; but him so much the more
That, having liv'd to his pleasure, shall forgoe
So delicate a life. I doe not marvell ¹
That *Seneca* and such sowre fellows can
Leave that they never tasted, but when we
That have the *Nectar* of thy kisses felt,
That drinkes away the troubles of this life,
And but one banquet make[s] of forty yeeres,
Must come to leave this;—but, soft, here he is.

¹ Martial, in a clever but coarse epigram (lib. xi. 56), ridi-
cules the Stoic's contempt of death :—

“Hanc tibi virtutem fracta facit urceus ansa,
Et tristis nullo qui tepet igne focus,
Et teges et cimex et nudi sponda grabati,
Et brevis atque eadem nocte dieque toga.
O quam magnus homo es, qui fæce rubentis aceti
Et stipula et nigro pane carere potes.

Rebus in angustis facile est contemnere vitam :
Fortiter ille facit qui miser esse potest.

80

### Enter Petronius and a Centurion.

Petron. Leave me a while, Centurion, to my friends;
Let me my farewell take, and thou shall see
Neroes commandement quickly obaid in mee.

[Ex. Centur.
— Come, let us drinke and dash the posts with wine!
Here throw your flowers ; fill me a swelling bowle
Such as Mecenas or my Lucan dranke
On Virgills birth day.¹

Enan. What meanes, Petronius, this unseasonable
And causelesse mirth ? Why, comes not from the
Prince

This man to you a messenger of death ?

Petron. Here, faire Enanthe, whose plumpe, ruddy
cheeke

Exceeds the grape !—It makes this ²—here, my geyrle.

(He drinks.)

— And thinkst thou death a matter of such harme ?
Why, he must have this pretty dimpling chin,
And will pecke out those eyes that now so wound.

Enan. Why, is it not th'extreamest of all ills ?

Petron. It is indeed the last and end of ills.

The Gods, before th' would let us tast deaths Ioyes,
Plact us ith' toyle and sorrowes of this world,

¹ Cf. Juv. Sat. v. 36, 37 :—

"Quale coronati Thrasea Helvidiusque bibebant,
Brutorum et Cassi natalibus."

The younger Pliny (Ep. iii. 7) relates that Eilius Italicus
religiously observed Vergil's birthday.

² The 4tos. punctuate thus :—

"Here faire Enanthe, whose plumpe ruddy cheeke
Exceeds the grape, it makes this ; here my geyrle."

Petronius is speaking hurriedly. He begins to answer
Enanthe's question: "it makes this" (i.e. "means this"), he
says, but breaks off his explanation, and pledges his mistress.

81

Because we should perceive th'amends and thanke
them;

Death, the grim knave, but leades you to the doore
Where, entred once, all curious pleasures come
To meete and welcome you.

A troop of beauteous Ladies, from whose eyes
Love thousand arrows, thousand graces shootes,
Puts forth theire fair hands to you and invites
To their greene arbours and close shadowed walkes,¹
Whence banisht is the roughness of our yeeres!

Onely the west wind blowes, its ² ever Spring
And ever Sommer. There the laden bowes
Offer their tempting burdens to your hand,
Doubtful your eye or tast inviting more.

There every man his owne desires enioyes;
Fair Lucrese lies by lusty Tarquins side,
And woes him now againe to ravish her.

Nor us, though Romane, Lais will refuse;
To Corinth ³ any man may goe; no maske,
No envious garment doth those beauties hide,
Which Nature made so moving to be spide.
But in bright Christall, which doth supply all,
And white transparent vailles they are attyr'd,
Through which the pure snow underneath doth shine;
(Can it be snowe from whence such flames arise ?)

Mingled with that faire company shall we
On bankes of Violets and of Hiacinths,

Of loves devising, sit and gently sport ;
And all the while melodious Musique heare,

And Poets songs that Musique farre exceed,

¹ 4tos. walles.

² 4tos. Ith.

³ "Non cuivis homini contingit adire Corinthum." Horat.
Epist. i. 17, 36 (οὐ παντὸς ἀνδρὸς ἐξ Κόρινθον ἔσθ' ὁ πλοῦξ).

L

82

The old Anaïcean¹ crown'd with smiling flowers,
And amorous Sapho on her Lesbian Lute

Beauties sweet Scarres and Cupids godhead sing.

Anton. What ? be not ravisht with thy fancies;
doe not

Court nothing, nor make love unto our feares.

Petron. Is't nothing that I say ?

Anton. But empty words.

Petron. Why, thou requir'st some instance of the
eye.

Wilt thou goe with me, then, and see that world
Which either will returne thy old delights,

Or square thy appetite anew to theirs ?

Anton. Nay, I had rather farre believe thee here ;

Others ambition such discoveries seeke.

Faith, I am satisfied with the base delights
Of common men. A wench, a house I have,
And of my own a garden: Ile not change

For all your walkes and ladies and rare fruits.

Petron. Your pleasures must of force resign to these:
In vaine you shun the sword, in vaine the sea,
In vaine is Nero fear'd or flattered.

Hether you must and leave your purchast houses,
Your new made garden and your black browd wife,
And of the trees thou hast so quaintly set,
Not one but the unpleasant Cipresse shall
Goe with thee.²

Anton. Faith 'tis true, we must at length ;

But yet, Petroneus, while we may awhile

¹ Quy. Th' old Anaïcean (sc. Anaereon).

² A paraphrase of Horace's well-known lines :
"Einquenda tellus, et domus, et placens
Uxor; neque harum, quas colis, arborum,
Te, præter invisas cupressos,

Ulla brevem dominum sequeter.”—Odes, ii.14, ll.21-29.

83

We would enjoy them ; those we have w'are sure of,
When that thou talke of 's doubtful and to come.

Petron. Perhaps thou thinkst to live yet twenty
yeeres,

Which may unlookt for be cut off, as mine;
If not, to endlesse time compar'd is nothing.

What you endure must ever, endure now;
Nor stay not to be last at table set.

Each best day of our life at first doth goe,
To them succeeds diseased age and woe ;

Now die your pleasures, and the dayes you¹ pray
Your rimes and loves and ists will take away.

Therefore, my sweet, yet thou wilt goe with mee,
And not live here to what thou wouldst not see.

Enan. Would y'have me then [to] kill my selfe,
and die,

And goe I know not to what places there?

Petron. What places dost thou feare ?

Th'ill-favoured lake they tell thee thou must passe,
And the² blacke frogs that croake about the brim?

Enan. O, pardon, Sir, though death affrights a
woman,

Whose pleasures though you timely here divine,
The paines we know and see.

Petron. The paine is lifes; death rids that paine
away.

Come boldly, there's no danger in this foord ;
Children passe through it. If it be a paine

You have this comfort that you past it are.

Enan. Yet all, as well as I, are loath to die.

Petron. Iudge them by deed, you see them doe't
apace.

Enan. I, but 'tis loathly and against their wils.

¹ 4to. your.

² 4tos. thy.

84

*Petron.* Yet know you not that any being dead
Repented them and would have liv'd againe.
They then there errors saw and foolish prayers,
But you are blinded in the love of life;
Death is but sweet to them that doe approach it.
To me, as one that tak'n with *Delphick* rage,
When the divining God his breast doth fill,
He sees what others cannot standing by,
It seemes a beauteous and pleasant thing.—
Where is my deaths Phisitian ?

*Phisi.* Here, my Lord.

*Petron, Art ready ?*

*Phisi.* I, my Lord.

*Petron.* And I for thee :

*Nero, my end shall mocke thy tyranny.* [Exeunt.

*Finis Actus Quarti.*

*Actus Quintus.*

*Enter Nero, Nimphidius, Tigellinus, Neophilus, Epaphroditus and other attendants.*

*Nero.* Enough is wept, *Poppæa*, for thy death,
Enough is bled: so many teares of others
Wailing their losses have wipt mine away.
Who in the common funerall of the world
Can mourne on[e] death ?

85 J

*Tigell.* Besides, Your Maiestie this benefit
In their diserved punishment shall reape,
From all attempts hereafter to be freed.
Conspiracy is now for ever dasht,
Tumult supprest, rebellion out of heart;
In *Pisoes* death danger it selfe did die.

*Nimph. Piso* that thought to climbe by bowing
downe,

By giving a way to thrive, and raising others
To become great himselfe, hath now by death
Given quiet to your thoughts and feare to theirs
That shall from treason their advancement plot;
Those dangerous heads that his ambition leand on;
And they by it crept up and from their meannesse
Thought in this stirre to rise aloft, are off.

Now peace and safetie waite upon your throne;
Securitie hath wall'd your seat about;
There is no place for feare left.

*Nero.* Why, I never feard them.
*Nimph.*

*That was your fault :*
Your Maiestie might give us leave to blame
Your dangerous courage and that noble soule
To prodigall¹ of it selfe.

*Nero.* A Princes mind knowes neither feare nor
hope:

The beameſ of royall Maiestie are such
As all eyes are with it amaz'd and weakened,
But it with nothing. I at first contemn'd
Their weak devises and faint enterprise.
Why, thought they against him to have prevail'd
Whose childhood was from *Messalinas* spight

¹ Cf. Horace, Od. i. 12, ll. 37, 38:—

“Regulum, et Scauros animaeque magnae
Prodigum Paulum.”

86

By Dragons¹ (that the earth gave up), preserv'd ?
Such guard my cradle had, for fate had then
Pointed me out to be what now I am.
Should all the Legions and the provinces,
In one united, against me conspire
I could disperce them with one angry eye ;
My brow's an host of men. Come, Tigellinus,
Let turne this bloody banquet Piso meant us
Into a merry feast; weele drink and challenge
Fortune.—Whose that Neophilus ?

### Enter a Roman.

Neoph. A Currier from beyond the Alpes, my Lord.
Nero. Newes of some German victory, belike,
Or Britton overthrow.

Neoph. The letters come from France.

Nimph. Why smiles your Maiestie ?

Nero. So, I smile ? I should be afraid; there's one
In Armes, Nimphidius.

Nimph. What, arm'd against your Maiestie ?

Nero. Our lieutenant of the Province, Julius
Vindex.

Tigell. Who ? that guiddy French-man ?

Nimph. His Province is disarm'd, my Lord; he
hath

No legion nor a souldier under him.

Epaphr. One that by blood and rapinewould repaire
His state consum'd in vanities and lust.

### Enter another Roman.

Tigell. He would not find out three to follow him.

¹ Vid. Tacitus, Ann. xi. 11; Sueton. Vit. Ner. 6.

87

A Mess. More newes, my Lord.

Nero. Is it of Vindex that thou hast to say ?

Mess. Vindex is up and with him France in Armes;
The Noblemen and people throng to th' cause ;
Money and Armour Cities doe conferre ;

The countrey doth send in provision ;

Young men bring bodies, old men lead them forth ;
Ladies doe coine their Iewels into pay ;

The sickle now is fram'd into a sword

And drawing horses are to manage taught ;
France nothing doth but warre and fury breath.

Nero. All this fierce talk's but “Vindex doth rebell”;
And I will hang him.

Tigell. How long came you forth. after the other
messenger ?

Mess. Foure dayes, but by the benefit of sea and
Weather am arrivd with him.

Nimph. How strong was Vindex at your setting
forth ?

Mess. He was esteem'd a hundred thousand.

Tigell. Men enough.

Nimph. And souldiers few enough ;

Tumultuary troops, undisciplin'd,

Untrain'd in service ; to wast victuals good,

But when they come to look on warres black wounds,
And but afarre off see the face of death—

Nero. It falles out for my empty coffers well,
The spoyle of such a large and goodly Province
Enricht with trade and long enioyed peace.

Tigell. What order will your Maiestie have taken
For levying forces to suppresse this stirre ?

Nero. What order should we take ? weele laugh
and drinke.

Thinkst thou it fit my pleasures be disturb'd

When any French-man list to breake his necke !

88

They have not heard of Pisoes fortune yet;
Let that Tale fight with them.

Nimph. What order needs? Your Maiestie shal
finde

This French heat quickly of it selfe grow cold.

Nero. Come away :

Nothing shall come that this nights sport shall stay.
[Ex. Ner. Nimph. Tig. and attendants.

Mane[n]t Neophilus, Epaphroditus.

Neoph. I wonder what makes him so confident
In this revolt now growne unto a warre,
And ensignes in the field ; when in the other,
Being but a plot of a conspiracie,
He shewd himselfe so wretchedly dismaid ?

Epaphr. Faith, the right nature of a coward to set
light

Dangers that seeme farre off. Piso was here,
Ready to enter at the Presence doore
And dragge him out of his abused chaire;
And then he trembled. Vindex is in France,
And many woods and seas and hills betweene.

Neoph. 'Twasstrange that Piso wasso soone supprest.

Epaphr. Strange ? strange indeed; for had he but
come up

And taken the Court in that affright and stirre
While unresolv'd for whom or what to doe,
Each on [of ?] the other had in ialeousie
(While as apaled Maiestie not yet
Had time to set the countenance), he would
Have hazarded the royall seat.

Neoph. Nay, had it without hazard; all the Court
Had for him bin and those disclos'd their love
And favour in the cause, which now to hide

89

And colour their good meanings ready were
To shew their forwardnesse against it most.

Epaphr. But for a stranger with a naked province,
Without allies or friends ith' state, to challenge
A Prince upheld with thirty Legions,
Rooted in foure discents of Ancestors
And foureteene yeares continuance of raigne,
Why it is—

Enter Nero, Nimphidius, Tigellinus to them.

Nero. Galba and Spaine? What? Spaine and
Gal[b]a too? [Ex. Ner. Nimph.

Epaph. I pray thee, Tigellinus, what furie's this?
What strange event, what accident hath thus
Orecast your countenances ?

Tigell. Downe we were set at table and began
With sparkling bowles to chase our feares away,
And mirth and pleasure lookt out of our eyes;
When, loe, 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 Spaines revolted, Portingale hath ioyn'd ;
As much suspected is of Germany.

But Nero, not abiding out the end,
Orethrew the tables, dasht against the ground
The cuppe which he so much, you know, esteem'd ;
Teareth his haire and with incensed rage
Curseth false men and Gods the lookers on.

Neoph. His rage, we saw, was wild and desperate.

Epaph. O you unsearch'd wisedomes which doe
laugh

At our securitie and feares alike,

And plaine to shew our weaknesse and your power

M

94

That all things in their last destruction might
Performe a funerall honour to their Lord !
O *Iove* dissolve with *Cæsar Cæsars* world ;
Or you whom *Nero* rather should invoke,
Blacke *Chaos* and you fearefull shapes beneath,
That with a long and not vaine envy have
Sought to destroy this worke of th' other Gods ;
Now let your darknesse cease the spoyles of day,
And the worlds first contention end your strife.

*Enter two Romanes to him.*

1 *Rom.* Though others, bound with greater benefits,
Have left your changed fortunes and doe runne
Whither new hopes doe call them, yet come we.
*Nero.* O welcome come you to adversitie ;
Welcome, true friends. Why, there is faith on
earth;
Of thousand servants, friends and followers,
Yet two are left. Your countenance, me thinks,
Gives comfort and new hopes.
2 *Rom.* Doe not deceive your thoughts :

My Lord, we bring no comfort,—would we could,—
But the last duty to performe and best
We ever shall, a free death to persuade,
To cut off hopes of fearer cruelty
And scorne, more cruell to a worthy soule.

1 *Rom.* The Senate have decreed you're punishable
After the fashion of our ancestors,
Which is, your necke being locked in a forke,
You must be naked whipt and scourg'd to death.
*Nero.* The Senate thus decreed ? they that so oft

95

My vertues flattered have and guifts of mine,
My government preferr'd to ancient times,
And challenge[d] *Numa* to compare with me,—
Have they so horrible an end sought out?
No, here I beare which shall prevent such shame ;
This hand shall yet from that deliver me,
And faithfull be alone unto his Lord.
Alasse, how sharp and terrible is death !
O must I die, must now my senses close ?
For ever die, and nere returne againe,
Never more see the Sunne, nor Heaven, nor Earth ?
Whither goe I? What shall I be anone ?
What horred iourney wandrest thou, my soule,
Under th' earth in darke, dampe, duskie vaults ?
Or shall I now to nothing be resolv'd ?
My feares become my hopes ; O would I might.
Me thinkes I see the boyling *Phlegeton*.
And the dull poole feared of them we feare,
The dread and terror of the Gods themselves ;
The furies arm'd with linkes, with whippes, with
snakes,
And my owne furies farre more mad then they,
My mother and those troopes of slaughtred friends.
And now the Iudge is brought unto the throne,
That will not leave unto Authoritie
Nor favour the oppressions of the great !

1 *Rom.* These are the idle terrors of the night,
Which wise men (though they teach) doe not
beleeve,
To curbe our pleasures faine[d] and aide the
weake,
2 *Rom.* Deaths wrongfull defamation, which would
make
Us shunne this happy haven of our rest,
This end of evils, as some fearefull harme.

96

1 *Rom.* Shadowes and fond imaginations,
Which now (you see) on earth but children feare.

2 *Rom.* Why should our faults feare punishment
from them?
What doe the actions of this life concerne
The tother world, with which is no commerce?

1 *Rom.* Would Heaven and Starres necessitie compell
Us to doe that which after it would punish?
2 *Rom.* Let us not after our lives end beleeve
More then you felt before it.

*Nero.* If any words had¹ made me confident
And boldly doe for hearing others speake
Boldly, this might.² But will you by example
Teach me the truth of your opinion
And make me see that you beleeve yourselves?
Will you by dying teach me to beare death
With courage?

1 *Rom.* No necessitie of death
Hangs ore our heads, no dangers threaten us
Nor Senates sharpe decree nor *Galbaes* arms.

2 *Rom.* Is this the thankes, then, thou dost pay our
love?
Die basely as such a life deserv'd;

Reserve thy selfe to punishment, and scorne
Of Rome and of thy laughing enemies.

[Exeunt.]

Manet *Nero*.

*Nero.* They hate me cause I would but live. What
was't
You lov'd, kind friends, and came to see my death?
Let me endure all torture and reproach.

¹ 4tos. have.

² 4tos. night.

97

That earth or *Galbaes* anger can inflict;
Yet hell and *Rodamanth* are more pittlesse.

*The first Romane to him.*

*Rom.* Though not deserv'd, yet once agen I come
To warne thee to take pitie on thy selfe.
The troopes by the Senate sent descend the hill
And come.

*Nero.* To take me and to whip me unto death!
O whither shall I flye?

*Rom.* Thou hast no choice.

*Nero.* O hither must I flye: hard is his happe
Who from death onely must by death escape.
Where are they yet? O may not I a little
Bethinke my selfe?

*Rom.* They are at hand; harke, thou maist heare
the noise.
*Nero.* O *Rome*, farewell! farewell, you Theaters
Where I so oft with popular applause
In song and action— O they come, I die.

(*He falls on his sword.*)

*Rom.* So base an end all iust commiseration
Doth take away: yet what we doe now spurne
The morning Sunne saw fearefull to the world.

*Enter some of Galbaes friends, Antoneus and others, with Nimphidius bound.*

*Gal.* You both shall die together, Traitors both
He to the common wealth and thou to him
And worse to a good Prince.—What? is he dead?
Hath feare encourag'd him and made him thus
Prevent our punishment? Then die with him :
Fall thy aspiring at thy Master's feete.

(*He kils Nimph.*)

N

98

*Anton.* Who, though he iustly perisht, yet by thee
Deserv'd it not; nor ended there thy treason,
But even thought oth' Empire thou conceiv'st.

*Galbaes* disgrace[d] in receiving that
Which the sonne of *Nimphidia* could hope.

*Rom.* Thus great bad men above them find a rod:
People, depart and say there is a God.

[Exeunt.]

FINIS.