heir tongue, might speak.

Arr. Let me be gone: most felt and open this!

Cor. Stay.

Arr.
What! to hear more cunning and fine words,
With their sound flatter'd ere their sense be meant?

Tib.
Their choice of Antium, there to place the gift
Vow'd to the goddess for our mother's health,
We will the senate know, we fairly like:
As also of their grant to Lepidus,
For his repairing the AEmilian place,
And restoration of those monuments:
Their grace too in confining of Silanus
To the other isle Cithera, at the suit
Of his religious sister, much commends
Their policy, so temper'd with their mercy.
But for the honours which they have decreed
To our Sejanus, to advance his statue
In Pompey's theatre, (whose ruining fire
His vigilance and labour kept restrain'd
In that one loss,) they have therein out-gone
Their own great wisdoms, by their skilful choice,
And placing of their bounties on a man,
Whose merit more adorns the dignity,
Than that can him; and gives a benefit,
In taking, greater than it can receive.
Blush not, Sejanus, thou great aid of Rome,
Associate of our labours, our chief helper;
Let us not force thy simple modesty
With offering at thy praise, for more we cannot,
Since there's no voice can take it.
No man here Receive our speeches as hyperboles:
For we are far from flattering our friend,
Let envy know, as from the need to flatter.
Nor let them ask the causes of our praise:
Princes have still their grounds rear'd with themselves,
Above the poor low flats of common men;
And who will search the reasons of their acts,
Must stand on equal bases. Lead, away:
Our loves unto the senate.
[Exeunt Tib., Sejan., Natta, Hat., Lat., Officers, etc.

Arr. Caesar!

Sab. Peace.

Cor.
Great Pompey's theatre was never ruin'd
Till now, that proud Sejanus hath a statue
Rear'd on his ashes.

Arr.
Place the shame of soldiers,
Above the best of generals? crack the world,
And bruise the name of Romans into dust,
Ere we behold it!

Sil. Check your passion; Lord Drusus tarries.

Dru.
Is my father mad,
Weary of life, and rule, lords? thus to heave
An idol up with praise! make him his mate,
His rival in the empire!

Arr. O, good prince.

Dru