Enter Nimphidius to her.
But see, his presence now doth end those doubts.
What is't, Nimphidius, hath so long detain'd you?
Nimphid. Faith, Lady, causes strong enough, High walls, bard dores, and guards of armed men.
Poppea. Were you Imprisoned, then, as you were going To the Theater?
Nimphid. Not in my going, Lady,
But in the Theater I was imprisoned.
For after he was once upon the Stage
The Gates[36] were more severely lookt into
Then at a town besieg'd: no man, no cause
Was Currant, no, nor passant. At other sights
The striefe is only to get in, but here
The stirre was all in getting out againe.
Had we not bin kept to it so I thinke
'Twould nere have been so tedious, though I know
'Twas hard to judge whether his doing of it
Were more absurd then 'twas for him[37] to doe it.
But when we once were forct to be spectators,
Compel'd to that which should have bin a pleasure,
We could no longer beare the wearisomnesse:
No paine so irksome as a forct delight.
Some fell down dead or seem'd at least to doe so,
Under that colour to be carried forth.
Then death first pleasur'd men, the shape all feare
Was put on gladly; some clomb ore the walls
And so, by falling, caught in earnest that
Which th'other did dissemble. There were women[38]
That (being not able to intreat the guard
To let them passe the gates) were brought to bed
Amidst the throngs of men, and made Lucina
Blush to see that unwonted companie.
Poppea. If 'twere so straightly kept how got you forth?
Nimphid. Faith, Lady, I came pretending hast
In Face and Countenance, told them I was sent
For things bith' Prince forgot about the sceane,
Which both my credit made them to beleeve
And Nero newly whispered me before.
Thus did I passe the gates; the danger, Ladie,
I have not yet escapt.
Poppea. What danger meane you?
Nimphid. The danger of his anger when he knowes
How I thus shranke away; for there stood knaves,
That put downe in their Tables all that stir'd
And markt in each there cheerefulnesse or sadnesse.
Poppea. I warrant He excuse you; but I pray
Lett's be a little better for your sight.
How did our Princely husband act Orestes?
Did he not wish againe his mother living?
Her death would adde great life unto his part.
But come, I pray; the storie of your sight.