(SCENE 4.)

Enter Nimphidius, Lucan, Scevinus, with a guard.

Nimph. Though Pisoes suddennesse and guilty hand Prevented hath the death he should have had, Yet you abide it must.

Lucan. O may the earth lye lightly on his Course, Sprinckle his ashes with your flowers and teares; The love and dainties of mankind is gone.

Scevin. What onely now we can, we'le follow thee That way thou lead'st and waite on thee in death; Which we had done had not these hindred us.

Nimph. Nay, other ends your grievous crimes awaite, Ends which the law and your deserts exact.

Scevin. What have we deserved?

Nimph. That punishment that traitors unto Princes, And enemies to the State they live, in merit.

Scevin. If by the State this government you meane I iustly am an enemy unto it. That's but to Nero, you and Tigellinus. That glorious world that even beguiles the wise, Being lookt into, includes but three or foure Corrupted men, which were they all remov'd 'Twould for the common State much better be.

Nimph. Why, what can you ith' government mislike, Unlesse it grieve you that the world's in peace Or that our arm[i]es conquer without blood? Hath not his power with forraine visitations And strangers honour more acknowlldg'd bin Then any was afore him? Hath not hee Dispos'd of frontier kingdomes with successe? Given away Crownes, whom he set up availing? The rivall seat of the Arsacidae, That thought their brightnesse equall unto ours, Is't crown'd by him, by him doth raigne? If we have any warre it's beyond Rhene And Euphrates, and such whose different chances Have rather serv'd for pleasure and discourse Then troubled us. At home the Citie hath Increast in wealth, with building bin adorn'd, The arts have flourisht and the Muses sung; And that his Iustice and well tempered raigne Have the best Iudges pleas'd, the powers divine, Their blessings and so long prosperitie Of th'Empire under him enough declare.

Scevin. You freed the State from warres abroad, but 'twas To spoile at home more safely and divert The Parthian enmitie on us; and yet The glory rather and the spoyles of warre Have wanting bin, the losse and charge we have. Your peace is full of cruelty and wrong; Lawes taught to speake to present purposes; Wealth and faire houses dangerous faults become; Much blood ith' Citie and no common deaths, But Gentlemen and Consulary houses. On Caesars owne house looke: hath that bin free? Hath he not shed the blood he calls divine? Hath not that neerenes which should love beget Always on him bin cause of hate and feare? Vertue and power suspected and kept downe? They, whose great ancestors this Empire made, Distrusted in the government thereof? A happy state where Decius is a traytor, Narcissus true! nor onley wast unsafe T'offend the Prince; his freed men worse were feard, Whose wrongs with such insulting pride were heard That even the faultie it made innocent If we complain'd that was it selfe a crime, I, though it were to Caesars benefit: Our writings pry'd into, falce guiltines Thinking each taxing pointed out it selfe; Our private whisperings listned after; nay, Our thoughts were forced out of us and punisht; And had it bin in you to have taken away Our understanding as you did our speech, You would have made us thought this honest too.

Nimph. Can malice narrow eyes See anything yet more it can traduce?

Scevin. His long continued taxes I forbeare, In which he chiefely showed him to be Prince; His robbing Alters,[75] sale of Holy things, The Antique Goblets of adored rust And sacred gifts of kings and people sold. Nor was the spoile more odious than the use They were imployd on; spent on shame and lust, Which still have bin so endless in their change And made us know a divers servitude. But that he hath bin suffered so long And prospered, as you say; for that to thee, O Heaven, I turne my selfe and cry, "No God Hath care of us." Yet have we our revenge, As much as Earth may be reveng'd on Heaven: Their divine honour Nero shall usurpe, And prayers and feasts and adoration have As well as Iupiter.

Nimph. Away, blaspheming tongue, Be ever silent for thy bitternesse.

[Exeunt.