Anton. Yonders Nimphidius, our Commander, now. I with respect must speake and smooth my brow. —Captaine, all haile.
Nimph. Antoneus, well met. Your place of Tribune in this Anarchi.
Anton. This Anarchy, my Lord? is Nero dead?
Nimph. This Anarchy, this yet unstiled time While Galba is unseased of the Empire Which Nero hath forsooke.
Anton. Hath Nero then resign'd the Empire?
Nimph. In effect he hath for he's fled to Egypt.
Anton. My Lord, you tell strange newes to me.
Nimph. But nothing strange to mee,
Who every moment knew of his despaires.
The Curriers came so fast with fresh alarmes
Of new revolts that he, unable quite
To beare his feares which he had long conceal'd,
Is now revolted from himselfe and fled.
Anton. Thrust with report and rumours from his seat! My Lord, you know the Campe depends on you As you determine.
Nimph. There it lies Antonius.
What should we doe? it boots not to relie
On Neroes stinking fortunes; and to sit
Securely looking on were to receive
An Emperor from Spaine: which how disgracefull
It were to us who, if we waigh our selves,
The most materiall accessions are
Of all the Roman Empire. Which disgrace
To cover we must ioyne ourselves betimes,
And therefore seeme to have created Galba.
Therefore He straight proclaime a Donative
Of thirty thousand sesterces a man.