_Nimph_. _Piso_ that thought to climbe by bowing downe, By giving a way to thrive, and raising others To become great himselfe, hath now by death Given quiet to your thoughts and feare to theirs That shall from treason their advancement plot; Those dangerous heads that his ambition leand on; And they by it crept up and from their meannesse Thought in this stirre to rise aloft, are off. Now peace and safetie waite upon your throne; Securitie hath wall'd your seat about; There is no place for feare left. _Nero_. Why, I never feard them. _Nimph_. That was your fault: Your Maiestie might give us leave to blame Your dangerous courage and that noble soule To prodigall[93] of it selfe. _Nero_. A Princes mind knowes neither feare nor hope: The beames of royall Maiestie are such As all eyes are with it amaz'd and weakened, But it with nothing. I at first contemn'd Their weak devises and faint enterprise. Why, thought they against him to have prevail'd Whose childhood was from _Messalinas_ spight By Dragons[94] (that the earth gave up), preserv'd? Such guard my cradle had, for fate had then Pointed me out to be what now I am. Should all the Legions and the provinces, In one united, against me conspire I could disperce them with one angry eye; My brow's an host of men. Come, _Tigellinus_, Let turne this bloody banquet _Piso_ meant us Into a merry feast; weele drink and challenge Fortune.--Whose that _Neophilus_? _Enter a Roman_. _Neoph_. A Currier from beyond the Alpes, my Lord. _Nero_. Newes of some German victory, belike, Or Britton overthrow. _Neoph_. The letters come from France. _Nimph_. Why smiles your Maiestie? _Nero_. So, I smile? I should be afraid; there's one In Armes, _Nimphidius_. _Nimph_. What, arm'd against your Maiestie? _Nero_. Our lieutenant of the Province, _Julius Vindex_. _Tigell_. Who? that guiddy French-man? _Nimph_. His Province is disarm'd, my Lord; he hath No legion nor a souldier under him. _Epaphr_. One that by blood and rapine would repaire His state consum'd in vanities and lust. _Enter another Roman_. _Tigell_. He would not find out three to follow him. _A Mess_. More newes, my Lord. _Nero_. Is it of _Vindex_ that thou hast to say? _Mess_. _Vindex_ is up and with him France in Armes; The Noblemen and people throng to th'cause; Money and Armour Cities doe conferre; The countrey doth send in provision; Young men bring bodies, old men lead them forth; Ladies doe coine their Iewels into pay; The sickle now is fram'd into a sword And drawing horses are to manage taught; France nothing doth but warre and fury breath. _Nero_. All this fierce talk's but "Vindex doth rebell"; And I will hang him. _Tigell_. How long came you forth after the other messenger? _Mess_. Foure dayes, but by the benefit of sea and Weather am arrivd with him. _Nimph_. How strong was _Vindex_ at your setting forth? _Mess_. He was esteem'd a hundred thousand. _Tigell_. Men enough.