Old English Plays, Vol. I | Page 9

doth make thy fault and my griefe greater. [_Ex. Sen_.
Scevin. I doe commend in Seneca this passion; And yet me thinkes our Countries miserie Doth at our hands crave somewhat more then teares.
Lucan. Pittie, though't doth a kind affection show, If it end there, our weaknesse makes us know.
Flav. Let children weepe and men seeke remedie.
Scevin. Stoutly, and like a soldier, _Flavius_; Yet to seeke remedie to a Princes ill Seldome but it doth the Phisitian kill.
Flav. And if it doe, _Scevinus_, it shall take But a devoted soule from _Flavius_, Which to my Countrey and the Gods of Rome Alreadie sacred is and given away. Deathe is no stranger unto me, I have The doubtfull hazard in twelve Battailes throwne; My chaunce was life.
Lucan. Why doe we go to fight in Brittanie And end our lives under another Sunne? Seeke causelesse dangers out? The German might Enioy his Woods and his owne Allis drinke, Yet we walke safely in the streets of Rome; Bonduca hinders not but we might live, Whom we do hurt. Them we call enemies, And those our Lords that spoyle and murder us.
Scevin. Nothing is hard to them that dare to die. This nobler resolution in you, Lords, Heartens me to disclose some thoughts that I-- The matter is of waight and dangerous.
Lucan. I see you feare us Scaevinus.[11]
Scevin. Nay, nay, although the thing be full of feare.
Flav. Tell it to faithfull Eares what eare it bee.
Scevin. Faith, let it goe, it will but trouble us, Be hurtfull to the speaker and the hearer.
Lucan. If our long friendship or the opinion--
Scevin. Why should I feare to tell them? Why, is he not a Parricide a Player? Nay, _Lucan_, is he not thine Enemie? Hate not the Heavens as well as men to see That condemn'd head? And you, O righteous Gods, Whither so ere you now are fled and will No more looke downe upon th'oppressed Earth; O severe anger of the highest Gods And thou, sterne power to whom the Greekes assigne Scourges and swords to punish proud mens wrongs, If you be more then names found out to awe us And that we doe not vainely build you alters, Aid that iust arme that's bent to execute What you should doe.
Lucan. Stay, y'are carried too much away, Scevinus.
Scevin. Why, what will you say for him? hath[12] he not Sought to suppresse your Poem, to bereave That honour every tongue in duty paid it. Nay, what can you say for him, hath he not Broacht his owne wives (a chast wives) breast and torne With Scithian hands his Mothers bowels up? The inhospitable Caucasus is milde; The More, that in the boyling desert seekes With blood of strangers to imbrue his iawes, Upbraides the Roman now with barbarousnesse.
Lucan. You are to earnest: I neither can nor will I speake for him; And though he sought my learned paynes to wrong I hate him not for that; My verse shall live When Neroes body shall be throwne in Tiber, And times to come shall blesse those[13] wicked armes. I love th'unnatural wounds from whence did flow Another Cirrha,[14] a new Hellicon. I hate him that he is Romes enemie, An enemie to Vertue; sits on high To shame the seate: and in that hate my life And blood I'le mingle on the earth with yours.
Flav. My deeds, _Scevinus_, shall speake my consent,
Scevin. Tis answerd as I lookt for, Noble Poet, Worthy the double Lawrell. Flavius, Good lucke, I see, doth vertuous meanings ayde, And therefore have the Heavens forborne their duties To grace our swords with glorious blood of Tyrants.
[Exeunt.
Finis Actus Primi.

Actus Secundus.
Enter Petronius solus.
Here waites Poppea her Nimphidius comming And hath this garden and these walkes chose out To blesse her with more pleasures then their owne. Not only Arras hangings and silke beds[15] Are guilty of the faults we blame them for: Somewhat these arbors and you trees doe know Whil'st your kind shades you to these night sports show. Night sports? Faith, they are done in open day And the Sunne see'th and envieth their play. Hither have I Love-sicke Antonius brought And thrust him on occasion so long sought; Shewed him the Empresse in a thicket by, Her loves approach waiting with greedie Eye; And told him, if he ever meant to prove The doubtfull issue of his hopelesse Love, This is the place and time wherein to try it; Women will heere the suite that will deny it. The suit's not hard that she comes for to take; Who (hot in lust of men) doth difference make? At last loath, willing, to her did he pace: Arme him, _Priapus_, with thy powerfull Mace. But see, they comming are; how they agree Heere will I harken; shroud me, gentle tree.
Enter Poppea