lurke for better newes,
Whilst you inevitably doe betray him.
Workes he all this for _Galba_ then? Not so:
I have long seene his climbing to the Empire
By secret practises of gracious women.
And other instruments of the late Court.
That was his love to her that me refus'd;
And now by this he would [gain?] give the souldiers favour.
Now is the time to quit _Poppaeas_ scorne
And his rivallity. Ile straight reveale
His treacheries to _Galbaes_ agents here.
[_Exit_.

(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_ w