Reioysing in so heynous bloudshed still,
Nought else with Nero then but, kill, them kill.
9.
And for that Seneca mee counsayle gaue,
(My tutour good in youth) to leaue my vice,
I bad him choose what death him likte to haue,
Which now should pay, for then, my stripes the price:
In water warme to stand was his deuice,
And there to bleede a milde and gentle death,
Euen so I causde them reaue his vitall breath.