s comfort yet: He shall not so escape
Who causeth my disgrace, _Nimphidius_;
Whom had I here--Well, for my true-hearts love
I see she hates me. And shall I love one
That hates me, and bestowes what I deserve
Upon my rivall? No; farewell _Poppea_,
Farewell _Poppea_ and farewell all Love:
Yet thus much shall it still prevaile in me
That I will hate _Nimphidius_ for thee.

_Petron_. Farewell to her, to my _Enanthe_ welcome.
Who now will to my burning kisses stoope,
Now with an easie cruelty deny
That which she, rather then the asker, would
Have forced from her then begin[16] her selfe.
Their loves that list upon great Ladies set;
I still will love the Wench that I can get.

[_Exeunt_.

(SCENE 2.)

_Enter Nero, Tigellinus, Epaphroditus_, and _Neophilus_.

_Nero_. _Tigellinus_, said the villaine _Proculus_[17]
I was throwne downe in running?

_Tigell_. My Lord, he said that you were crown'd for that
You could not doe.

_Nero_. For that I could not doe?
Why, _Elis_ saw me doe't, and doe't it with wonder
Of all the Iudges and the lookers on;
And yet to see--A villaine! could not doe't?
Who did it better? I warrant you he said
I from the Chariot fell against my will.

_Tigell_. He said, My Lord, you were throwne out of it
All crusht and maim'd and almost bruis'd to death.

_Nero_. Malicious Rogue! when I fell willingly
To show of purpose with what little hurt
Might a good rider beare a forced fall.
How sayest thou, _Tigellinus_? I am sure
Thou hast in driving as much skill as he.

_Tigell_. My Lord, you greater cunning shew'd in falling
Then had you sate.

_Nero_. I know I did; or[18] bruised in my fall?
Hurt! I protest I felt no griefe in it.
Goe, _Tigellinus_, fetch the villaines head.
This makes me see his heart in other things.
Fetch me his head; he nere shall speake againe. [_Ex. Tigell_.
What doe we Princes differ from the durt
And basenesse of the common Multitude
If to the scorne of each malicious tongue
We subiect are: For that I had no skill,[19]
Not he that his farre famed daughter set
A prise to Victoria and had bin Crown'd
With thirteene Sutors deaths till he at length
By fate of Gods and Servants treason fell,
(Shoulder pack't[20] _Pelops_, glorying in his spoyles)
Could with more skill his coupled horses guide.
Even as a Barke that through the mooving Flood
Her linnen wings and the forc't ayre doe beare;
The Byllowes fome,