NERO

Now fair Poppea, see thy Nero shine In bright Achaia's spoils, and Room in him. The Capital hath other Trophies seen Then it was wont; Not spoils with blood bedewed, Or the unhappy obsequies of Death: But such, as Caesars cunning, not his force, Hath wrung from Greece; too bragging of her art. For that I could not do? Why, Elis saw me doet, and doe't with wonder Of all the Judges, and the lookers on: And yet, to see, A villain? could not doe't? Who did it better? I warrant you he said I from the Chariot fell against my will. I know I did; or bruised in my fallen? Hurt! I protest I felt no grief in it. Go Tigillinus, fetch the villains head, This makes me see his heart in other things? Fetch me his head, he never shall speak again. ex. Tigil. What do we Princes differ, from the dirt, And baseness of the common Multitude, If to the scorn of each malicious tongue We subject are: For that I had no skill; Not he, that his far famed daughter set A prize to victory, and had been crowned With thirteen Suitors death's, till he at length By fate of Gods, and servants treason fell, (Shoulder packed Pelops glorying in his spoils,) Could with more skill his coupled horses guide. Even as a Bark, that through the moving Flood. Her linen wings, and the forced air do bear, The Billows foam, she smoothly cuts them through; So passed my burning Axletree along, The people follow, with their eyes and voice, And now the wind does see it self outrun, And the Clouds wonder to be left behind; While the void air is filled with shouts and noise And Nero;s name does beat the brazen Sky, Jubiter cruying, loath does hear my praise: Then there green howes, and Crowns of Olive wre'aths The Conquerors praise, they give me as my endue, And yet this Rogue say no we have no skill. Oh cry thee mercy good Neophitus; Give him five hundred sesterces for amends, Hast brought him Tegillinus? His tongue had been enough, Thou toldst not me, though he had such a Nose. Now are you quiet, and have quieted me; This 'tis to be commander of the World, Let them extol weak pity that do need it, Let mean men cry to have Law, and Justice done And tell their griefs to Heaven, that hears them not Kings must upon the Peoples headless courses Walk to security, and ease of mind. Why what have we to do with airy names (That old age, and Philosophers found out,) Of Justice, and never certain Equity; The Gods revenge themselves, and so will we; Where right is scanned, Authoritie'is orethrowne, We have a high pre ogatiue above it; Slaves may do what is lust, we, what we please, The people will repine, and think it ill, But they must bear, and praise too, what we will. Welcome good Cornutus Are all thigs ready for the Stage, As I gave charge. Cornutus, I must act to day Orestus. And when our Scene is done, I mean beside To read some compositions of mine own, Which for the great opinion I my self, And Room In general, of thy Judgement, hath, Before I publish them, I'll show them thee. I mean to write the deeds of all the Roman I have not yet bethought me of a Title You Enthral Powers which the wide Fortune's doom he reads Of Empire crowned, seven Mountaine-seated Room Full blown; Inspire me with Machlaean rage, That J may bellow out Rome's Prentisage, As when the Menades do fill their Drums And crooked horns with Mimalonean humme: And Ennion do Ingeminate a round Which reparable Ecchoe does resound. How dost thou Like our Muses pains Cornutus. Too long? I think to write about four hundred Books. Hah? Not Bacchus, drawn from Nisa down with Tigers, Curbing with viny reins, their wilful heads, Whilst some do gape upon his Ivy Thirse, Some, on the dangling grapes, that Crown his head, All praise his beauty, and continuing youth: So struck, amazed India, with wonder. As Nero;s glories did the Greekish towns Elis, and Pisa, and the rich Mic nam, Iunoman Argos, and yet Corinth proud Of her two Seas; all which overcome, did yield To me their praise, and prizes of their games. Malicious Rogue, when I fell willingly, To show of purpose, with what little hurt Might a good rider bear a forced fallen. How sayest thou? Tigillinus, I am sure Thou hast in driving as much skill as he. Come away. Nothing shall come that this nights sport shall stay. And moves you not the misery of a Prince? Oh stay my friends, stay, harken to the voice Which once ye knew. Why? what Should I have seen in them? but in the one, Hunger, black-pottage, and men hight to di , 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 A ecelans, 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 wone by wit and Trophtis of his skill. What, mooke you me Poppea? But now Poppea, having laid apart Our boastful spoils, and ornaments of Triumph. Come we, Like Joan from Phlegra — When, after all his Fierce, and wandering darts, He comes to both himself, in Juno's Eyes: But thou, (then wrangling Juno, ) far more fair, Staining the evening beauty of the Sky, Or the days brightness; shall make glad thy Caesar, Shalt make him proud such beauty's to Enjoy: Exunt. Tigellinus, said the villain Proculus I was thrown down in running? I have no skill to driven 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 told how. I know thy modesty, I'll only show thee, now, my works beginning: Go see Epaphroditus, Music made ready, I will sing to day. Exit Epa. Cornutus I pray thee, come near, And let me hear thy Judgement in my pains; I would have thee more familiar good Cornutus, Nero does prize desert, and more esteems Them, that in knowledge second him then power, Mark with what style, and state my work begins. Tigillinus? Exit Nero & Tigeli. Come Sirs, I faith, how did you Like my acting? What? wast not as you looked for? Did I not do it to the life? And when I came, Toth' point of Agrippa, Cliteunnestras death, Did it not move the feeling auditory? Did not my voice hold out well to the end? And served me afterwards afresh to sing with. Nay faith speak truly, do not flatter me; I know you needs not: flattery's but where Desert is mean. They tell of Orpheus, when he took his Lute, And moved the noble Ivory with his touch: Hebrus stood still, Pangea bowed his head, Ossa then first shook off his snow, and came To listen to the moouings of his song; The gentle Popler, took the Oak along. And called the Pine down, from his Mountain seat: The Virgin Bay, although the Arts she hates Oth' Delphic God, was with his voice over come, He his twice-lost Eurydice bewails, And Proserpina's vain gifts, and makes the shores And hollow caves of forests now vntreed Bear his grief company, and all things teaches His lost loves 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, I, though himself were judge, he then should see, How much the Latin stains the Thracian liar. I oft have walked by Tibers flowing banks, And herd the Swan sing her own Epitaph When she herd 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'eternall Music of the Spheres To mark my voice, and mend their tunes by mine. But here comes Tigellinus, come, thy bill, Are there so many; I see I have enemies. Vespasian too a sleep; was he so drowsy? Well, he shall sleep the Iron sleep of death And did Thrasea look so sour lie on us? Our Actium needed not be graced by him, He's our old enemy, and still Malignes us; Will have and end, nay it shall have and end. Why, I have been too pitiful too remiss, My easiness I 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 Princes anger must lay desolate Cities, Kingdoms consume, Root up mankind. Oh could I live to see the general end, Behold the world en rapt in funeral flame, When, as the Sun shall lend his beams to burn What he before brought forth, and water serve, Not to extinguish but to vise the fire: Then, Like the Salamander, bathing me In the last Ashes of all mortal things Let me give up this breath: Priam was happy, Happy indeed, he saw his Troy burned, And Illion lie on heaps; Whilst thy pure streams, (Divine Scamander ) did run Phrygian blood And herd the pleasant cries of Trojan Mother's. Could I see Room, so? What may I easily do? kill thee, or him, 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'll not shoot at trees, And spend in woods my unregarded vengeance, I'll sheuire them down upon thtir guilty roofs, And fill the streets with bloody burials. But it's not Heaven can give me what I seek; To you, you hated kingdoms of the night, You severe powers, that not Like those above, Will with fair words, or children's cries be won, That have a style beyond that Heaven is proud off, Deriving not from Art a makers Name, But in destruction power, and terror show: To you I fly for succour: you, whose dwellings For torments are bely'de, must give me ease; Furies, lend me your fires, no they are here, They must be other fires; material brands That must the burning of my heat allay; I bring to you no rude unpractised hands, Already do they reek with mother's blood: Tush that's but innocents, to what now I mean, Alas what evil could those years commit, The world in this shall see my settled wit. exeunt. I, now begins the scene that I would have. Play on, play on, and fill the golden skies With cries, and pity; with your blood; Men's Eyes. I Like this Music well; they Like not mine: Now in the tears of all men, let me sing, Cantat. And make it doubtful to the Gods above; Whither the Earth be pleased, or do complain. Let Heaven do what it will this I have done Already: do you feel my furies weight, Room is become a graven of her late greatness; Her clouds of smoke have taken away the day, Her flames the night. Now unbelieving Eyes what crave you more? My Palace? how? what traitorous hand? Heaven, thou dost strive, I see, for victory. exeunt. See how Fate works unto their purposed end; And without all selfe-Industry will raise, Whom they determine to make great and happy; Nero throws down himself, I stir him not, He runs unto destruction studies ways To compassed danger, and attain the hate Of all; Be his own wish is on his head: Nor Room with fire, more e then revenges burn ; Let me stand still, or lie, or sl epe, I see. Poppea some new favour will seek out My wakings to salute, I cannot st rre, But messengers of new p eferment meet me: Now, she hath made me Captain of the Guard, So well I bear me in these night Allar , That she imagined I was made for Arms; I now command the Soldier, he the City, If any chance do turn the Prince aside, (As many hatreds, mischiefs threaten him,) Ours is his wife, his seat and thrown is ours. He's next in right that hath the strongest powers. exit. This kiss sweet love, I'll force from thee and this, And of such spoils, and victories be prouder, Then if I had the fierce Panonian, Or gray-eyd Germane ten times overcome. Let Julius go, and fight at end oth' world, And conquer from the wild inhabitants Their cold, and poverty; whilst Nero, here, Makes other wars, war es where the conquered gains, Where to overcome, is to be prisoner. Oh willingly, I give my freedom up; And put on my own chains; And am in love with my captivity; Such Venus is, when on the sand shore Of Xanthus or on Ida's ple S n green She leads the Dam c ; Her, the Nymph's all are we, And smiling graces do accompany. If Bacchus could his straggling Minion Grace, with a glorious wreathe of shining S arres; Why should not Heaven my Poppaea Crow e? The Northern teem shall move into a round; New constellations rise, to honour thee; The Earth shall won thy favours, and the Sea Lay his rich shells, and treasure at thy feet. For thee, Hidaspis shall throw up his gold, Pauchaia breath the rich delightful smells, The Seres, and the feathered man of Ind Shall their fine arts, and curious labours bring: And where the Sun's not known, Poppaeas name Shall amid their feasts, and barbarous pomp be sung. I wedded? Your froward fool, you're still so bitter, whose that? Yet in his face he sends his tale before him, Bade news thou tellest. Why, is my life indangerd? How ends this circumstance, thou wrackst my thoughts. By whom? Th'art a tedious fellow, speak, by whom? Who are else in it? I think Natalis, Subius, Flavius, Lucan, Seneca, and Lucius Piso, Asper, and Quintilianus. Would done, Thou'ilt reckon all Room anon and so thou mayest, Th'are villains all, I'll not trust one of them; Oh that the Romans had but all one n cke. Where are they? come they not upon us yet? See the Guard doubted, see the Gates shut up. Why, the'yle surprise us in our Court anon. Lets thither then, And take them in this false security; Look to the gates, and walls oth' City, look The river be well kept, have watches set In every passage, and in every way; But who shall watch these watches, what if they Begin, and play the Traitors first? Oh where shall I Seek faith, or them that I may wisely trust? The City favours the conspirators, The Senate, in disgrace, and feat hath lived; The Can p, wh most are soldiers that be nam Beside, he knows not all; and Like a fool I interrupted him, else had he nam Those that stood by me; Oh security. Which we so much seek after, yet art still To Courts a stranger, and dost rather choose, The smoky redes, and sedgy cottages, Then the proud roofs, and wanton cost of Kings. Oh sweet despised joys of poverty, A happiness unknown unto the Gods: Would I had rather in poor Gallij been, Or Ulubrae, a ragged Magistrate, Sat as a Judge of measures, and of corn, Then the adored Monarch of the world. Mother, thou didst deservedly in this, That from a private, and sure state, didst raise My Fortune's, to this slippery hill of greatness; Where I can neither stand, nor fallen with life. Exit. What could cause thee, Forgetful of my benefits, and thy oath, To seek my life. 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. And what's he that re? And why wast pity sirrah, Piso died? Well, if you be so passionate, I'll make you spend your pity on your Prince, And good men, not on traitors. Your pity shows, your favour and your will Which side you are inclined too, had your power, You can but pity, else should Caesar fear, Your ill affection then shall punished be. Take him to execution, he shall die, That the death pities of mine enemy. He guiltless, strumpet. Spurns her and Poppaa falls. She's in love with the smo that face of the boy. Poppaa, Poppaa, speak, I am not angry, I did not mean to hurt thee, speak sweet love. Fetch her again, she shall not die, I'll open the Iron gates of hell, And break the imprisoned shadows of the deep, And force from death this far too worthy pray, She is not dead. The crimson read, that Like the morning shone, When from her windows, (all with Roses strewde,) She peepeth forth forsakes not yet her changed ekes, Her breath, that Like a honeysuckle smelled twining about the prickled Eglintine, Yet moves her lipes; those quick, and piercing eyes, That did in beauty challenge heavens 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 so ere you are assured to grace The firmament, (for lo the twinkling fires Together throng, and that clear milky space Of storms, and Phiades, and thunder void, Prepares your room,) do not with wry aspect Look on your Nero, who in blood shall mourn Your luckless fate; And many a breathing soul, Send of er you to wait upon their Queen; This shall begin, the rest shall follow after, And fill the streets with outcries, and with slaughter. Ex. ENough is wept, Poppaea, for thy death, Enough is bled, so many tears of others Wailing their losses have wiped mine away Who in the common funeral of the world Can mourn on death? Why, I never feared them. A Princes mind knows neither fear, nor hope, The beams of royal Majesty are such, As all eyes are with it amazed, and weakened, But it with nothing; I at first contemned Their weak devises, and faint enterprise: Why, thought they against him to have prevailed, Whose childhood was from Messalina's spite By Dragons, (that the earth gave up) preserved, Such guard my cradle had; for fate had then Pointed me out, to be what now I am. Should all the Legions, and the provinces In one united, against me conspire: I could disperce them withone angry eye. My brow's and host of men; Come Tigellinus, Let turn this bloody banquet, Piso meant us, Unto a merry feast, weel drink and challenge Fortune; whose that Neophilus? News of some Germane victory belike, Or Briton overthrow. So I smile, I should be afraid there's one In Arms Nimphidius. Our Lieutenant of the Province, Julius Vindex. Is it of Vindex that thou hast to say? All this fierce talk's, but Vindex does rebel, And I will hang him. It falls out for my empty coffers well, The spoil of such a large and goodly Province, Enriched with trade, and long enjoyed peace. What order should we take? weel laugh, & drink, Thinkest thou it fit my pleasures be disturbed When any Frenchman list to break his neck? They have not herd of Piso's Fortune yet, Let that Tale fight with them. Galba and Spain, what Spain and Gala too? Whither go you, stay my friends; It's Caesar calls you, stay my loving friends. 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. Oh now I see the vizard from my face So lovely, and so fearful is fallen off That vizard, shadow, nothing (Majesty) (Which Like a child acquainted with his fears, But now men trembled at, and now contemn Nero forsaken is of all the world. The world of truth; Oh fallen some vengeance down Equal unto their falsehoods, and my wrongs; Might I accept the Chariot of the Sun. And Like another Phaeton consume In flames of all the world; a pile of Death Worthy the state, and greatness I have lost. Or were I now but Lord of my own fires, Wherein false Room 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. Oh love dissolve with Caesar, Caesars world; Or you whom Nero rather should invoke Black Chaes, 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. Oh welcome, come you to adversity, Welcome true friends, why there is faith on earth. Of thousand servants, friends, and followers; Yet two are left: your countenance me thinks Gives comfort, and new Hope's The Senate thus decreed? they that so oft My virtues flattered have, and gifts of mine, My government prefert'd to ancient times, And challenge Numa to compare with me; Have they so horrible and end sought out? No, here I bear which shall prevent such shame, This hand shall yet from that deliver me, And faithful be alone unto his Lord. Alas how sharp, and terrible is death; Oh must I die, must now my senses close, For ever die, and never return again, Never more see the Sun, nor Heaven, nor Earth? Whither go I? what shall I be anon; What horred journey wanderest thou my soul, Under earth, in dark, damp, dusky vaults? Or shall I now to nothing be resolved? My fears become my Hope's, Oh would I might. Me thinks I see the boiling Phlegeton, And the dull pool, feared of them we fear, The dread, and terror of the Gods themselves, The furies armed with links, with whips, with snakes, And my own furies far more mad then they; My mother, and those troops of slaughtered friends, And now the Judge is brought unto the throne, That will not leave unto authority, Nor favour the oppressions of the great If any words have made me confident, And boldly do, for hearing others speak, Boldly this night; But will you by example Teach me the truth of your opinion, And make me see that you believe your selves, Will you by dying, teach me to bear death With courage? They hate me, cause I would but live, what was't You loved kind friends, and came to see my death; Let me endure all torture, and reproach That earth, or Galba's anger can inflict: Yet hell, and Rodamanth are more pitiless. To take me, and to whip me unto death: Oh whither shall I fly? Oh hither must I fly, hard is his happen, Who from death only must by death escape, Where are they yet? Oh may I not a little Bethink my self? Oh Room farewell farewell you Theaters, Where I so oft, with popular applause In song; and Actium; Oh they come I die. He falls on his sword. Who's thy Master?