_Nimphid_. Not in my going, Lady, But in the Theater I was imprisoned. For after he was once upon the Stage The Gates[36] were more severely lookt into Then at a town besieg'd: no man, no cause Was Currant, no, nor passant. At other sights The striefe is only to get in, but here The stirre was all in getting out againe. Had we not bin kept to it so I thinke 'Twould nere have been so tedious, though I know 'Twas hard to judge whether his doing of it Were more absurd then 'twas for him[37] to doe it. But when we once were forct to be spectators, Compel'd to that which should have bin a pleasure, We could no longer beare the wearisomnesse: No paine so irksome as a forct delight. Some fell down dead or seem'd at least to doe so, Under that colour to be carried forth. Then death first pleasur'd men, the shape all feare Was put on gladly; some clomb ore the walls And so, by falling, caught in earnest that Which th'other did dissemble. There were women[38] That (being not able to intreat the guard To let them passe the gates) were brought to bed Amidst the throngs of men, and made _Lucina_ Blush to see that unwonted companie. _Poppea_. If 'twere so straightly kept how got you forth? _Nimphid_. Faith, Lady, I came pretending hast In Face and Countenance, told them I was sent For things bith' Prince forgot about the sceane, Which both my credit made them to beleeve And _Nero_ newly whispered me before. Thus did I passe the gates; the danger, Ladie, I have not yet escapt. _Poppea_. What danger meane you? _Nimphid_. The danger of his anger when he knowes How I thus shranke away; for there stood knaves, That put downe in their Tables all that stir'd And markt in each there cheerefulnesse or sadnesse. _Poppea_. I warrant He excuse you; but I pray Lett's be a little better for your sight. How did our Princely husband act _Orestes_? Did he not wish againe his mother living? Her death would adde great life unto his part. But come, I pray; the storie of your sight.