The care he lavished upon the preservation of his voice, far out-does that of any modern _prima donna_; he would lie on his back during part of each day, with a sheet of lead on his stomach, or chest; he used emetics and clysters copiously when it seemed at all out of order; his food was always regulated with reference to its effect upon his voice, and he forbore from eating many fruits and pickles, because they were prejudicial to it. He never delivered any addresses to his army because he feared that he might thereby strain it; all his speeches to the soldiers were delivered by proxy, even though he were present. On all occasions, he had his voice-master by him, to caution him whenever he should be in danger of over-straining, and this instructor was ordered, if the warning should by any cause be unheeded, to clap a napkin upon his mouth by way of enforcing his advice. Through the whole reign of this emperor however, there was never less misery than while he was applying himself to his musical education, or was upon his musical tours. Encouraged by the improvement (real or imagined) in his voice, he became desirous of appearing upon the public stage. The unjust valuation which he placed upon the art, being apparent by his remark that “music unheard, was valueless and unregarded.” His first public appearance took place at Naples, A. D. 63; while singing, the theatre was shaken by an earthquake, but Nero was not to be checked, even by the elements, and sang to the end of his song.[79] After the theatre had been vacated, it fell in; and Nero composed lengthy hymns to the gods for his escape.[80] On his return to Rome he was desirous of showing his skill in that metropolis; at first he only sang to select audiences of friends at his own palace, but infatuated with the applause of this flattering circle, he was only too glad to follow their suggestion that such a fine voice should not be hidden.