_Anton_. O doe not see thy faire in that false glasse Of outward difference; Looke into my heart. There shalt thou see thy selfe Inthroaned set In greater Maiesty then all the pompe Of _Rome_ or _Nero_. Tis not the crowching awe And Ceremony with which we flatter Princes That can to Loves true duties be compar'd. _Poppea_. Sir, let me goe or He make knowne your Love To them that shall requite it but with hate. _Petron_. On, on, thou hast the goale; the fort is beaten; Women are wonne when they begin to threaten. _Anton_. Your Noblenesse doth warrant me from that, Nor need you others helpe to punish me Who by your forehead am condem'd or free. They that to be revendg'd do bend their minde Seeke always recompence in that same kind The wrong was done them; Love was mine offence, In that revenge, in that seeke recompence. _Poppea_. Further to answere will still cause replyes, And those as ill doe please me as your selfe. If you'le an answere take that's breefe and true, I hate my selfe if I be lov'd of you. [_Exit Popp_. _Petron_. What, gone? but she will come againe sure: no? It passeth cleane my cunning, all my rules: For Womens wantonnesse there is no rule. To take her in the itching of her Lust, A propper young man putting forth himselfe! Why, Fate! there's Fate and hidden providence In cod piece matters. _Anton_. O unhappy Man! What comfort have I now, _Petronius?_ _Petron_. Council your selfe; Ile teach no more but learne. _Anton_. This comfort yet: He shall not so escape Who causeth my disgrace, _Nimphidius_; Whom had I here--Well, for my true-hearts love I see she hates me. And shall I love one That hates me, and bestowes what I deserve Upon my rivall? No; farewell _Poppea_, Farewell _Poppea_ and farewell all Love: Yet thus much shall it still prevaile in me That I will hate _Nimphidius_ for thee. _Petron_. Farewell to her, to my _Enanthe_ welcome. Who now will to my burning kisses stoope, Now with an easie cruelty deny That which she, rather then the asker, would Have forced from her then begin[16] her selfe. Their loves that list upon great Ladies set; I still will love the Wench that I can get. [_Exeunt_. (SCENE 2.) _Enter Nero, Tigellinus, Epaphroditus_, and _Neophilus_. _Nero_. _Tigellinus_, said the villaine _Proculus_[17] I was throwne downe in running? _Tigell_. My Lord, he said that you were crown'd for that You could not doe. _Nero_. For that I could not doe? Why, _Elis_ saw me doe't, and doe't it with wonder Of all the Iudges and the lookers on; And yet to see--A villaine! could not doe't? Who did it better? I warrant you he said I from the Chariot fell against my will. _Tigell_. He said, My Lord, you were throwne out of it All crusht and maim'd and almost bruis'd to death.