Tigell. Villaine, dost know where and of whom thou speakst?
Nero. Have you but one death for him? Let it bee A feeling one; Tigellinus, bee't[77] Thy charge, and let me see thee witty in't.
Tigell. Come, sirrah; Weele see how stoutly you'le stretch out your necke.
Flav. Wold thou durst strike as stoutly. [Exit Tigell. and Flav.
Nero. And what's hee there?
Epaphr. One that in whispering oreheard[78] What pitie 'twas, my Lord, that Pisoe died.
Nero. And why was't pitie, sirrah, Pisoe died?
Yong. My Lord, 'twas pitie he deserv'd to die.
Poppaea. How much this youth my Otho doth resemble; (aside.) Otho my first, my best love who is now (Under pretext of governing) exyl'd To Lucitania, honourably banish't.
Nero. Well, if you be so passionate, Ile make you spend your pitie on your Prince And good men, not on traytors.