(SCENE 3.)

Enter Tigellinus with the Guard.

Tigell.  You see what issue things doe sort unto;
Yet may we hope not only impunitie
But with our fellowes part oth’ guift proclaim’d.

    Nero meets them.

Nero.  Whether goe you? stay, my friends; ’Tis Caesar calls you; stay, my loving friends.

Tigell.  We were his slaves, his footstooles, and must crouch But now with such observance to his feet; It is his misery that calles us friends.

Nero.  And moves you not the misery of a Prince?  O stay, my friends, stay, harken to the voyce Which once yee knew.

Tigell.  Harke to the peoples cryes, Harke to the streets that Galba, Galba, ring.

Nero.  The people may forsake me without blame,
I did them wrong to make you rich and great,
I tooke their houses to bestow on you;
Treason in them hath name of libertie: 
Your fault hath no excuse, you are my fault
And the excuse of others treachery.

Tigell.  Shall we with staying seeme his tyrannies
T’uphold, as if we were in love with them? 
We are excus’d (unlesse we stay too long)
As forced Ministers and a part of wrong.

[Ex. praeter Nero.

Nero.  O now I see the vizard from my face,
So lovely and so fearefull, is fall’n off,
That vizard, shadow, nothing, Maiestie,
Which, like a child acquainted with his feares,
But now men trembled at and now contemne.
Nero forsaken is of all the world,
The world of truth.  O fall some vengeance downe
Equall unto their falsehoods and my wrongs! 
Might I accept the Chariot of the Sunne
And like another Phaeton consume
In flames of all the world, a pile of Death
Worthy the state and greatnesse I have lost! 
Or were I now but Lord of my owne fires
Wherein false Rome yet once againe might smoake
And perish, all unpitied of her Gods,
That all things in their last destruction might
Performe a funerall honour to their Lord! 
O Iove dissolve with Caesar Caesars 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.