Sil. 
   And I, for gracing his young kinsmen so,
   The sons of prince Germanicus:  it shews
   A gallant clearness in him, a straight mind,
   That envies not, in them, their father’s name.

Arr. 
   His name was, while he lived, above all envy;
   And, being dead, without it.  O, that man! 
   If there were seeds of the old virtue left,
   They lived in him.

Sil. 
   He had the fruits, Arruntius,
   More than the seeds:  Sabinus, and myself
   Had means to know him within; and can report him. 
   We were his followers, he would call us friends;
   He was a man most like to virtue; in all,
   And every action, nearer to the gods,
   Than men, in nature; of a body as fair
   As was his mind; and no less reverend
   In face, than fame:  he could so use his state,
   Tempering his greatness with his gravity,
   As it avoided all self-love in him,
   And spite in others.  What his funerals lack’d
   In images and pomp, they had supplied
   With honourable sorrow, soldiers’ sadness,
   A kind of silent mourning, such, as men,
   Who know no tears, but from their captives, use
   To shew in so great losses.

Cor. 
   I thought once,
   Considering their forms, age, manner of deaths,
   The nearness of the places where they fell,
   To have parallel’d him with great Alexander: 
   For both were of best feature, of high race,
   Year’d but to thirty, and, in foreign lands,
   By their own people alike made away. 
   Sab, I know not, for his death, how you might wrest it: 
   But, for his life, it did as much disdain
   Comparison, with that voluptuous, rash,
   Giddy, and drunken Macedon’s, as mine
   Doth with my bondman’s.  All the good in him,
   His valour and his fortune, he made his;
   But he had other touches of late Romans,
   That more did speak him:  Pompey’s dignity,
   The innocence of Cato, Caesar’s spirit,
   Wise Brutus’ temperance; and every virtue,
   Which, parted unto others, gave them name,
   Flow’d mix’d in him.  He was the soul of goodness;
   And all our praises of him are like streams
   Drawn from a spring, that still rise full, and leave
   The part remaining greatest.

Arr. 
   I am sure
   He was too great for us, and that they knew
   Who did remove him hence.

Sab. 
   When men grow fast
   Honour’d and loved. there is a trick in state,
   Which jealous princes never fail to use,
   How to decline that growth, with fair pretext,
   And honourable colours of employment,
   Either by embassy, the war, or such,
   To shift them forth into another air,
   Where they may purge and lessen; so was he: 
   And had his seconds there, sent by Tiberius,
   And his more subtile dam, to discontent him;
   To breed and cherish mutinies; detract