 | The Tragedy of Nero |  |
Astus Primus.
Enter Petronius, Arbyter, Antonius, Honoratus.Petronius.
Tvsh, take the wench
I showed thee now, or else some other seeke;
What? can your choler no way be allayed?
But with Imperiall tytles?
Will you more tytles vnto Cæsar giue?
Anto.
Great are thy fortunes Nero, great thy power,
Thy Empyre lymited with natures bounds;
Vpon thy ground, the Sunne doth set, and ryse;
The day, and night are thine:
Nor can the Planets, wander where they will:
See that proud Earth, that feares not Cæsars name.
Yet nothing of all this, I enuy thee;
But her, to whom the world, vnforst, obayes,
Whose eyes more worth then all it lookes vpon:
In whom, all beautyes Nature hath enclos'd,
That through the wide Earth, or Heauen are dispos'd
Petro.
Indeed the steales, and robs each part o'th world,
With borrowed beauties to enflame thine eye;
The Sea, to fetch her Pearle, is diu'd into:
The Diomond rocks are cut, to make her shine:
When my Enanthe, in a homely gowne.
Ant.
Homely I faith.
Petro.
I, homely in her gowne,
But looke vpon her face, and that's set out
With no small grace, no vayled shadowes helpe;
Foole; that hadst rather with false lights and darke
Beguiled be, then see the ware thou buyest.
Poppea royally attended, and passe ouer the Stage, in State.
Ant.
Great Queene, whom nature made to be her glory:
Fortune got eies, and came to be thy seruant,
Honour is proud to be thy tytle; Though
Thy beauties doe draw vp my soule; yet still,
So bright, so glorious is thy Maiestie,
That it beates downe againe my clyming thoughts.
Petro.
Why true;
And other of thy blindnesses thou seest,
Such one to loue thou dar'st not speake vnto.
Giue me a wench, that will be easily had,
Not woed with cost; And, being sent for, comes,
And when I haue her foulded in mine armes,
Then Cleopatra she, or Lucres is:
Ile giue her any tytle.
Anto.
Yet not so much her greatnesse, and estate
My hopes disharten, as her chastitie.
Pet.
Chastitie, foole! a word not knowne in Courts:
Well may it lodge in meane, and countrey homes,
Where pouertie, and labour keepes them downe,
Short sleepes, and hands made hard with Thuscan Woll.
But neuer comes to great mens Pallaces,
Where ease, and riches, stirring thoughts beget,
Prouoking meates, and surfet wines Inflame:
Where all there setting forth's but to be wooed,
And wooed they would not be, but to be wonne.
Will one man serue Poppea? Nay, thou shalt
Make her, as soone, contented with an eye.
Nim.
Whil'st Nero, in the streetes, his Pageants shewes,
I, to his faire wiues chamber, sent for am.
You gracious Starres, that smiled in my birth,
And thou bright starre more powerfull then them all,
Whose fauouring smyles haue made me what I am
Thou shalt my God, my Fate, and fortune bee.
Ex. Nim.
Ant.
How sausely yon fellow.
Enters the Empresse chamber.
Pet.
I, and her too? Antonius knowest thou him?
Ant.
What? knowes the onely fauorite of the Court?
Indeed, not many dayes agoe thou mightest,
Haue not vnlawfully askt that question.
Pet.
Why? Is he rais'd?
Ant.
That haue I sought in him,
But neuer peece of good desert could find:
Hee is Nimphidias sonne, the free'd woman,
Which basenesse to shake off, he nothing hath
But his owne pride
Pet.
You Remember, when Gallus, Celsus,
And others too, though now forgotten were
Great in Poppeas eyes.
Ant.
I doe, and did enterpret it in them
An honorable fauor, she bare vertue,
Or parts like vertue.
Pet.
The cause is one of theirs, and this mans grace,
I once was great in wauering smiles of Court,
I fell because I knew: Sence haue I giuen
My time to my owne pleasures, and would now
Aduise thee too, to meane, and safe delights:
The thigh's as soft the sheepes backe couereth
As that which crimson, and with Gold adorn'd:
Yet cause I see, that thy restraind desires.
Cannot their owne way choose, come thou with me
Perhapps Ile shew thee meanes of remedie.
Exeunt.
1 Rom.
Whither so fast man? whither so fast?
2 Rom.
Whither? but where your eares doe lead you;
To Neros Triumphs, and the shouts you heare.
1 Ro.
Why? comes he crown'd with Parthian ouerthrow.
And brings he Uolegæsus with him, chai'nd?
2 Ro.
Parthian ouerthrowne? why, he comes crownd
For victories which neuer Roman wonne;
For hauing Greece in her owne arts ouerthrowne;
In Singing, Dauncing, Horse-rase, Stage-playing.
Neuer, O Rome had neuer such a Prince.
1 Rom.
Yet, I haue heard: our ancestors were crown'd
For other Victories.
2 Rom.
None of our ancestors, were ere like him.
Within
Nero, Apollo, Nero, Hercules.
1 Rom.
Harke, how th'applauding shouts doe cleare th'ayre
This Idle talke will make me loose the sight.
Two Romans more to them.
3 Rom.
Whither goe you? alls done i'th Capytall,
And Nero, hauing there his tables hung,
And Garlands vp: is to the Pallace gone.
T'was beyond wonder; I shall neuer see,
Nay, I neuer looke, to see the like againe
Eighteene hundred and eight Crownes
For seuerall victories and the place set downe
Where, and in what, and whom he ouercame.
4 Rom.
That was set downe it'h tables, that were borne
Vpon the Souldiers speares.
1 Rom.
O made, and sometimes vse to other ends.
2 Rom.
But did he winne them all with singing.
3 Rom.
Faith all with singing, and with stage-playing.
1 Rom.
So many Crownes got with a song.
4 Rom.
But, did you marke the Greeke Musitians
Behinde his Chariot, hanging downe their heads?
O Rome was neuer honour'd so, before.
3. Rom.
But, what was he that rode 'ith'Chariot with him?
4. Rom.
That was Diodorus the Mynstrill, that he fauours.
3. Rom.
Was there euer such a Prince.
2. Rom.
O Nero Augustus, the true Augustus.
3. Rom.
Nay, had you seene him as he rode along,
With an Olympicke Crowne vpon his head,
And with a Pithian on his arme: you would haue thought,
Looking on one he had Apollo seem'd,
On th'other Hercules.
2. Rom
I haue heard my father oft repeat the Triumphs,
Which in Augustus Cæsars tymes were showne,
Vpon his Victorie ore the Jllirians;
But it seemes it was not like to this.
3, & 4. Rom.
Push, it could not be like this.
2, 3, & 4.
O Nero, Apollo, Nero, Hercules.
Exeunt. 2, 3, & 4. Rom.
Alanet Primus.
1. Rom.
Whether Augustus Tryumph greater was
I cannot tell; his Tryumphs cause I know
Was greater farre, and farre more Honourable.
What are wee People? or our flattering voyces,
That alwayes shame and foolish things applaud
Hauing no sparke of Soule; All Eares, and eyes,
Pleas'd with vaine showes, deluded by our senses
Still enemies to wisedome, and to goodnesse.
exit.
Enter Nero, Poppea, Nimphidius, Tigellinus, Epaphreditus, Neophitus, and others.
Nero,
Now fayre Poppea, see thy Nero shine
In bright Achaias spoyles, and Rome in him.
The Capitall hath other Trophies seene
Then it was wont; Not spoyles with blood bedew'd,
Or the vnhappie obsequies of Death:
But such, as Cæsars cunning, not his force,
Hath wrung from Greece; too bragging of her art.
Tigell.
And in this strife, the glories all your owne,
Your Tribunes cannot share this prayse with you;
Bootlesse your Armies, and your Eagles were;
No Nauies helpt, to bring away this conquest.
Nim.
Euen Fortunes selfe, Fortune the Queene of kingdomes
(That Warrs grim valour graceth with her deeds,)
Will claime no portion in this Victorie.
Nero.
Not Bacchus, drawne from Nisa downe with Tigers,
Curbing with viny raines, their wilfull heads,
Whil'st some doe gape vpon his Iuy Thirse,
Some, on the dangling grapes, that Crowne his head,
All praise his beautie, and continuing youth:
So strooke, amased India, with wonder
As Neroes glories did the Greekish townes
Elis, and Pisa, and the rich Micœnæ,
Iunoman Argos, and yet Corinth proud
Of her two Seas; all which ore-come, did yeeld
To me their praise, and prises of their games.
Poppea,
Yet, in your Greekish iourney, we do heare,
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 to much grauitie,
Nero:
Why? what
Should I haue seene in them? but in the one,
Hunger, blacke-pottage, and men hot to die,
Thereby to rid themselues of miserie:
And what in th'other? but short Capes, long Beardes,
Much wrangling, in things needlesse to be knowne,
Wisedome in words, and onely austere faces,
I will not be Aiecelaus, nor Solon.
Nero was there, where he might honour winn,
And honour hath he wonn, and brought from Greece,
Those spoyles which neuer Roman could obtaine,
Spoyles won by witt, and Tropheis of his skill.
Nim.
What a thing he makes it to be a Minstrill.
Pop.
I prayse your witt, my Lord, that choose such safe.
Honors, safe spoyles, wonn without dust, or blood.
Nero:
What, mocke ye me Poppea?
Nay, in good Faith my Lord, I speake in earnest,
I hate that headie, and aduenturous crew,
That goe to loose their owne, to purchase, but
The breath of others, and the common voyce,
Them that will loose there hearing for a sound;
That by death onely, seeke to get a liuing,
Make skarrs there beautie, and count losse of Limmes
The commendation of a proper man,
And so, goe halting to immortalitie:
Such fooles I loue worse then they doe their liues.
Nero:
But now Poppea, hauing laid apart
Our boastfull spoyles, and ornaments of Tryumph.
Come we, like Ioue from Phlegræ—
Poppea:
O Giantlike comparison.
Nero:
When, after all his Fiers, and wandring darts,
He comes to bath himselfe, in Iunos Eyes:
But thou, (then wrangling Iuno,) farre more fayre,
Stayning the euening beauty of the Skie,
Or the dayes brightnesse; shall make glad thy Cæsar,
Shalt make him proud such beauties to Inioy:
Exunt.
Manet, Nimphidius solus.
Nimph:
Such beauties to inioy, were happinesse,
And a reward sufficient in it selfe,
Although no other end, or hopes were aim'd at:
But I haue other; Tis not Poppeas armes,
Nor the short pleasures of a wanton bed,
That can extinguish mine aspiring thirst
To Neroes Crowne; By her loue I must climbe,
Her bed is but a step vnto his Throne.
Already, wise men laugh at him, and hate him;
The people, though his Mynstrelsie doth please them,
They feare his Cruelty, hate his exactions,
Which, his need, still, must force him to encrease.
The multitude, which cannot one thing long
Like, or dislike, being cloy'd with vanitie,
Will hate their owne delights, though Wisedome doe not,
Euen wearinesse, at length, will giue them eyes.
Rais'd to the enuious height of second place,
May gaine the first: Hate must strike Nero downe.
Loue make Nimphidius way vnto a Crowne.
exit.
Enter Seneca, Sceuinus, Lucan, and Flauius.
Sceu.
His first beginning was his Fathers death,
His brothers poysoning, and wiues bloudy end
Came next, his mothers murther clos'd vp all:
Yet hitherto he was but wicked, when
The guilt of greater euills, tooke away the shame
Of lesser, and did headlong thrust him forth,
To be the scorne, and laughter to the world;
Then first, an Emperour came vpon the Stage,
And sung to please Carmen, and Candle-sellers,
And learnt to act, to daunce, to be a Fencer,
And in despight o'the Maiestie of Princes,
He fell to wrastling, and was soyl'd with dust,
And tumbled on the Earth with seruile hands.
Seneca.
He sometimes trayned was in better studies,
And had a Child-hood promis'd other hopes;
High fortunes, like stronge wines, do trie their vessels.
Was not the Race, and Theater bigge enough,
To haue inclos'd thy follies heere at home?
O could not Rome, and Italie containe
Thy shame? but thou must crosse the Seas to shew it?
Scen.
And make them that had wont to see our Consuls,
With conquering Eagles wauing in the field;
Instead of that; behold an Emperor dauncing,
Playing oth'stage, and what else, but to name
Were infamie.
Lucan.
O Mummius, O Flaminius;
You, whom your Vertues haue not made more famous
Then Neros vices; You went ore to Greece,
But t'other warres, and brought home other conquests.
You Corinth, and Micœna ouerthrew;
And Perseus selfe, the Great Achilles race
Ore came; hauing Mineruas stayned Temples.
Senec.
They stroue with Kings; and kinglike aduersaries.
Were euen in their Enemies made happie;
The Macedonian Courage tryed of old,
And the new greatnesse of the Syrian power:
But he for Phillip, and Antiochus,
Hath found more easie enemies to deale with,
Turpuus, Pammenes, and a rout of Fidlers.
Sceuin:
Why all the begging Mynstrills by the way,
He tooke along with him, and forc'd to striue
That he might ouercome, Imagining
Himselfe Imortall, by such victories.
Flaui:
The Men he caried ouer were enough
T'haue put the Parthian to his second flight
Or the proud Indyan, taught the Roman Yoke.
Sceuin:
But they were Neroes men, like Nero arm'd
With Luts, and Harpes, and Pipes, and Fiddle-cases:
Souldyers to, th shadow traynd, and not the field.
Flaui:
Therefore they brought spoyles of such Soldyers worthy.
Luca:
But to throw downe the walls, and Gates of Rome,
To make an entrance for an Hobby-horse;
To vaunt toth'people his rediculous spoyles;
To come with Lawrell, and with Olyues crown'd,
For hauing beene the worst of all the Singers,
Is beyond Patience;
Sceuin:
I and anger too,
Had you but seene him in his Chariot ryde.
That Chariot in which, Augustus late
His Triumphs ore'so many Nations shew'd,
And with him in the same a Minstrell plac'd,
The whil'st the people, running by his side,
Hayle thou Olimpick Conqueror did crye,
O haile thou Pithian, and did fill the skie
With shame, and voyces, Heauen would not haue heard.
Senec:
I saw't, but turn'd away my Eyes, and Eares,
Angry, they should be priuie to such sights.
Why doe I stand relating of the storie,
Which in the doing had enough to grieue me?
Angry, they should be priuie to such sights.
Why doe I stand relating of the storie,
Which in the doing had enough to grieue me?
Tell on, and end the tale, you, whom it pleaseth;
Mee mine owne sorrow stops from further speaking.
Nero, my loue doth make thy fault, and my griefe greater.
Mee mine owne sorrow stops from further speaking.
Nero, my loue doth make thy fault, and my griefe greater.
(ex. Se.
Sceuin:
I doe commend in Seneca this passion;
And yet me thinkes our Countries miserie,
Doth at our hands craue somewhat more then teares.
Luca:
Pittie, though't doth akind affection show,
(If it end there) our weakenesse makes vs know.
Flaui:
Let children weepe, and men seeke remedie,
Sceui:
Stoutly, and like a Souldier, Flauius:
Yet, to seeke remedie to a Princes ill,
Seldome, but it doth the Phisitian kill.
Flaui:
And if it doe Sceuinus, it shall take
But a deuoted soule from Flauius,
Which, to my Countrey, and the Gods of Rome,
Alreadie sacred is, and giuen away,
Death is no stranger vnto me, I haue
The doubtfull hazard in twelue Battailes throwne,
My chaunce was life.
Luca:
Why doe we goe to fight in Brittanie?
And end our liues vnder an other Sunne?
Seeke causelesse dangers out? The German might
Enioy his Woods, and his owne Allis drinke,
Yet we walke safely in the streets of Rome:
Bodinca hinders not, but we might liue,
Whom, we doe hurt; Them we call enemies,
And those our Lords that spoyle, and murder vs.
Sceuin:
Nothing is hard to them that dare to die.
This Noble resolution in you Lords,
Heartens me to disclose some thoughts that I—
The matter is of waight and dangerous.
Luca:
I see you feare vs Seruinus.
Sceuin:
Nay, Nay, although the thing be full of feare.
Flaui:
Tell it to faithfull Eares, what eare it bee.
Sceuin:
Faith let it goe, it will but trouble vs,
Bee hurtfull to the speaker, and the hearer.
Luca:
If our long friendship, or the opinion.
Sceuin:
Why should I feare to tell them?
Nay Lucan is he not thine Enemie?
Hate not the Heauens, as well, as men, to see
That condem'd head: and you O righteous Gods
Whither so ere you now are fled, and will
No more looke downe vpon th'oppressed Earth;
O seuere anger of the highest Gods,
And thou sterne power, to whom the Greekes assigne
Scourges, and swords to punish proud mens wrongs,
If you be more then names found out to awe vs,
And that we doe not vainely build you alters,
Aid that iust arme, that's bent to execute
What you should doe.
Luca.
Stay, y'are caried too much away Sceuinus.
Sceui.
Why, what will you say for him? hath he not
Sought to suppresse your Poem, to bereaue
That honour euery tongue in duty paid it.
Nay, what can you say for him, hath he not
Broa'cht his owne wiues (a chast wiues) breast, and torne
With Scithian hands his Mothers bowels vp,
The Inhospitable Caucasus is milde:
The More, that, in the boyling desert, seekes
With blood of stranger to imbrue his iawes
Vpbraides the Roman, now with barbarousnesse
Luca:
You are to earnest,
I neither can, nor will I speake for him:
And, though he sought my learned paynes to wrong,
I hate him not for that, My verse shall liue
When Neroes body shall be throwne in Tiber,
And times to come shall blesse those wicked armes;
I loue th'vnnaturall wounds, from whence did flow
Another Ciria, a new Hellicon.
I hate him that he is Romes enemie,
An enemie to Vertue; sits on high
To shame the seate; And in that hate, my life,
And blood, Ile mingle on the earth with yours.
Flaui:
My deeds Sceuinus shall speake my consent.
Sceui.
Tis answerd, as I lookt for, noble Poet,
Good lucke I see, doth vertuous meanings ayde,
And therefore haue the Heauens forborne their duties,
To grace our swords with glorious blood of Tyrants.
exeunt.
Finis Actus Primi.
| The Tragedy of Nero | |