No soft and glutinous bodies, that can stick,
   Like snails on painted walls; or, on our breasts,
   Creep up, to fall from that proud height, to which
   We did by slavery, not by service climb. 
   We are no guilty men, and then no great;
   We have no place in court, office In state,
   That we can say, we owe unto our crimes: 
   We burn with no black secrets, which can make
   Us dear to the pale authors; or live fear’d
   Of their still waking jealousies, to raise
   Ourselves a fortune, by subverting theirs. 
   We stand not in the lines, that do advance
   To that so courted point.

Enter Satrius and Natta, at a distance.

Sil. 
   But yonder lean
   A pair that do.

Sab. [salutes Latiaris.] Good cousin Latiaris.—–­

Sil. 
   Satrius Secundus, and Pinnarius Natta,
   The great Sejanus’ clients:  there be two,
   Know more than honest counsels; whose close breasts,
   Were they ripp’d up to light, it would be found
   A poor and idle sin, to which their trunks
   Had not been made fit organs.  These can lie,
   Flatter, and swear, forswear, deprave, inform,
   Smile, and betray; make guilty men; then beg
   The forfeit lives, to get their livings; cut
   Men’s throats with whisperings; sell to gaping suitors
   The empty smoke, that flies about the palace;
   Laugh when their patron laughs; sweat when he sweats;
   Be hot and cold with him; change every mood,
   Habit, and garb, as often as he varies;
   Observe him, as his watch observes his clock;
   And, true, as turquoise in the dear lord’s ring,
   Look well or ill with him:  6 ready to praise
   His lordship, if he spit, or but p—–­ fair,
   Have an indifferent stool, or break wind well;
   Nothing can ’scape their catch.

Sab. 
   Alas! these things
   Deserve no note, conferr’d with other vile
   And filthier flatteries, that corrupt the times;
   When, not alone our gentries chief are fain
   To make their safety from such sordid acts;
   But all our consuls, and no little part
   Of such as have been praetors, yea, the most
   Of senators, that else not use their voices,
   Start up in public senate and there strive
   Who shall propound most abject things, and base. 
   So much, as oft Tuberous hath been heard,
   Leaving the court, to cry, O race of men;
   Prepared for servitude!—–­which shew’d that he. 
   Who least the public liberty could like,
   As lothly brook’d their flat servility.

Sil. 
   Well, all is worthy of us, were it more,
   Who with our riots, pride, and civil hate,
   Have so provok’d the justice of the gods: 
   We, that, within these fourscore years, were born
   Free, equal lords of the triumphed world,
   And knew no masters, but affections;
   To which betraying first our liberties,