_Nero_. Thou toldst not me, though, he had such a nose![21] Now are you quiet and have quieted me: This tis to be commander of the World. Let them extoll weake pittie that do neede it, Let meane men cry to have Law and Iustice done And tell their griefes to Heaven that heares them not: Kings must upon the Peoples headlesse courses Walk to securitie and ease of minde. Why, what have we to doe with th'ayrie names (That old age and _Philosophers_ found out) Of _Iustice_ and ne're certaine Equitie? The God's revenge themselves and so will we; Where right is scand Authoritie's orethrowne: We have a high prerogative above it. Slaves may do what is right, we what we please: The people will repine and think it ill, But they must beare, and praise too, what we will. _Enter Cornutus[22] to them_. _Neoph_. My Lord, _Cornutus_ whom you sent for's come. _Nero_. Welcome, good _Cornutus_. Are all things ready for the stage, As I gave charge? _Corn_. They only stay your coming. _Nero_. _Cornutus_, I must act to day _Orestes_. _Corn_. You have done that alreadie, and too truely. (_Aside_.) _Nero_. And when our Sceane is done I meane besides To read some compositions of my owne, Which, for the great opinion I my selfe And _Rome_ in generall of thy Judgment hath, Before I publish them Ile shew them thee. _Corn_. My Lord, my disabilities-- _Nero_. I know thy modestie: Ile only shew thee now my works beginning.-- Goe see, _Epaphroditus_, Musick made ready; I will sing to day.-- [_Exit Epa. Cornutus_, I pray thee come neere And let me heare thy Judgement in my paynes. I would have thee more familiar, good _Cornutus_; _Nero_ doth prise desert and more esteemes Them that in knowledge second him, then power. Marke with what style and state my worke begins. _Corn_. Might not my Interruption offend, Whats your workes name, my Lord? what write you of? _Nero_. I meane to write the deeds of all the Romans. _Corn_. Of all the Romans? A huge argument. _Nero_. I have not yet bethought me of a title:-- (_he reades_,) "_You Enthrall Powers which[23] the wide Fortunes doon Of Empyre-crown'd seaven-Mountaine-seated Rome, Full blowne Inspire me with_ Machlaean[24] _rage That I may bellow out_ Romes _Prentisage; As[25] when the_ Menades _do fill their Drums And crooked hornes with_ Mimalonean _hummes And_ Evion[26] _do Ingeminate around, Which reparable Eccho doth resound_." How doest thou like our Muses paines, _Cornutus_? _Corn_. The verses have more in them than I see: Your work, my Lord, I doubt will be too long. _Nero_. Too long? _Tigell_. Too long? _Corn_. I, if you write the deedes of all the _Romans_. How many Bookes thinke you t'include it in? _Nero_. I thinke to write about foure hundred Bookes. _Corn_. Four hundred! Why, my Lord, they'le nere be read.[27] _Nero_. Hah! _Tigell_. Why, he whom you esteeme so much, _Crisippus_, Wrote many more.