lnesse.
Let him no issue leave to beare his name
Or sonne to right a Fathers wronged fame;
Our flames to quit be righteous in your yre,
And when he dies let him want funerall fire.

[_Exeunt_.

_Nero_. Let Heaven do what it will, this I have done.
Already doe you feel my furies waight:
Rome is become a grave of her late greatnes;
Her clowdes of smoke have tane away the day,
Her flames the night.
Now, unbeleaving Eyes, what crave you more?

_Enter Neophilus to him_.

_Neoph_. O save your selfe, my Lord: your Pallace burnes.

_Nero_. My Pallace? how? what traiterous hand?

_Enter Tigellinus to them_.

_Tigell_. O flie, my Lord, and save your selfe betimes.
The winde doth beate the fire upon your house,
The eating flame devoures your double gates;
Your pillars fall, your golden roofes doe melt;
Your antique Tables and Greeke Imagery
The fire besets; and the smoake, you see,
Doth choake my speech: O flie and save your life.

_Nero_. Heaven thou dost strive, I see, for victory.

[_Exeunt_.

(SCENE 5.)

_Enter Nimphidius solus_.

See how Fate workes unto their purpos'd end
And without all selfe-Industry will raise
Whom they determine to make great and happy.
_Nero_ throwes down himselfe, I stirre him not;
He runnes unto destruction, studies wayes
To compasse danger and attaine the hate
Of all. Bee his owne wishis on his head,
Nor _Rome_ with fire more then revenges burne.
Let me stand still or lye or sleepe, I rise.
_Poppea_ some new favour will seeke out
My wakings to salute; I cannot stirre
But messages of new preferment meet me.
Now she hath made me Captaine of the Guard
So well I beare me in these night Alarmes
That she imagin'd I was made for Armes.
I now command the Souldier,[58] he the Citie:
If any chance doe turne the Prince aside
(As many hatreds, mischiefes threaten him)
Ours is his wife; his seat and throwne is ours:
He's next in right that hath the strongest powers.
[_Exit_.

(SCENE 6.)

_Enter Scevinus, Milichus_.

_Scevin_. O _Troy_ and O yee soules of our forefathers
Which in your countreys fires were offered up,
How neere your Nephews[59] to your fortunes come.
Yet they were _Grecian_ hands began your flame;
But that our Temples and our houses smoake,
Our Marble buildings turne to be our Tombes,
Burnt bones and spurnt a