[Exit.

(SCENE 4.)

Enter Seneca, Scevinus, Lucan and Flavius.

Scevin.  His first beginning was his Fathers death;
His brothers poysoning and wives bloudy end
Came next; his mothers murther clos’d up all. 
Yet hitherto he was but wicked, when
The guilt of greater evills 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 upon 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 servile 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 Theatre bigge enough
To have inclos’d thy follies heere at home? 
O could not Rome and Italie containe
Thy shame, but thou must crosse the seas to shewe it?

Scevin.  And make them that had wont to see our Consuls,
With conquering Eagles waving 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 have not made more famous
Than Neros vices, you went ore to Greece
But t’other warres, and brought home other conquests;
You Corinth and Micaena overthrew,
And Perseus selfe, the great Achilles race,
Orecame; having Minervas stayned Temples
And your slayne Ancestors of Troy reveng’d.

Seneca.  They strove with Kings and Kinglike adversaries,
Were even 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—­
Terpnus,[8] Pammenes,[9] and a rout of Fidlers.

Scevin.  Why, all the begging Mynstrills by the way
He tooke along with him and forc’d to strive
That he might overcome, Imagining
Himselfe Immortall 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.

Scevin.  But they were Neroes men, like Nero arm’d With Lutes and Harps and Pipes and Fiddle-cases, Souldyers to th’shadow traynd and not the field.

Flav.  Therefore they brought spoyles of such Soldyers worthy.

Lucan.  But to throw downe the walls[10] and Gates of Rome
To make an entrance for an Hobby-horse;
To vaunt to th’people his rediculous spoyles;
To come with Lawrell and with Olyves crown’d
For having beene the worst of all the Singers,
Is beyond Patience.