_Nero_. Looke to the gates and walles oth' Citie; looke The river be well kept; have watches set In every passage and in every way.-- But who shall watch these watches? What if they, Begin and play the Traitors first? O where shall I Seeke faith or them that I may wisely trust? The Citie favours the conspirators; The Senate in disgrace and feare hath liv'd; The Camp--why? most are souldiers that he named; Besides, he knowes not all, and like a foole I interrupted him, else had he named Those that stood by me. O securitie, Which we so much seeke after, yet art still To Courts a stranger and dost rather choose The smoaky reedes and sedgy cottages Then the proud roofes and wanton cost of kings. O sweet dispised ioyes of poverty, A happines unknowne unto the Gods! Would I had rather in poore _Gabii_[68] bin Or _Ulubrae_ a ragged Magistrate, Sat as a Iudge of measures and of corne Then the adored Monarke of the world. Mother, thou didst deservedly in this, That from a private and sure state didst raise My fortunes to this slippery hill of greatnesse Where I can neither stand nor fall with life. [_Exit_. (SCENE 2.) _Enter Piso, Lucan, Scevinus, Flavius_. _Flav_. But, since we are discover'd, what remaines But put our lives upon our hands? these swords Shall try us Traitors or true Citizens. _Scevin_. And what should make this hazard doubt successe? Stout men are oft with sudden onsets danted: What shall this Stage-player be? _Lucan_. It is not now _Augustus_ gravitie nor _Tiberius_ craft, But _Tigellinus_ and _Chrisogonus_, Eunuckes and women that we goe against. _Scevin_. This for thy owne sake, this for ours we begg, That thou wilt suffer him to be orecome; Why shouldst thou keepe so many vowed swords From such a hated throate? _Flav_. Or shall we feare To trust unto the Gods so good a cause? _Lucan_. By this we may ourselves Heavens favour promise Because all noblenesse and worth on earth We see's on our side. Here the _Fabys_ sonne, Here the _Corvini_ are and take that part There noble Fathers would, if now they liv'd. There's not a soule that claimes Nobilitie, Either by his or his forefathers merit, But is with us; with us the gallant youth Whom passed dangers or hote bloud makes bould; Staid men suspect their wisdome or their faith To whom our counsels we have not reveald; And while (our party seeking to disgrace) They traitors call us, each man treason praiseth And hateth faith when _Piso_ is a traitor.