Phisi. I, my Lord.
Petron. And I for thee: Nero, my end shall mocke thy tyranny.
[Exeunt.
Finis Actus Quarti.
Actus Quintus.
Enter Nero, Nimphidius, Tigellinus, Neophilus,
Epaphroditus and other attendants.
Nero. Enough is wept, Poppaea, for thy death,
Enough is bled: so many teares of others
Wailing their losses have wipt mine away.
Who in the common funerall of the world
Can mourne on[e] death?
Tigell. Besides, Your Maiestie this benefit
In their diserved punishment shall reape,
From all attempts hereafter to be freed.
Conspiracy is how for ever dasht,
Tumult supprest, rebellion out of heart;
In Pisoes death danger it selfe did die.
Nimph. Piso that thought to climbe by bowing downe,
By giving a way to thrive, and raising others
To become great himselfe, hath now by death
Given quiet to your thoughts and feare to theirs
That shall from treason their advancement plot;
Those dangerous heads that his ambition leand on;
And they by it crept up and from their meannesse
Thought in this stirre to rise aloft, are off.
Now peace and safetie waite upon your throne;
Securitie hath wall'd your seat about;
There is no place for feare left.
Nero. Why, I never feard them.