Sab. 
   And, now, the second face of the whole world! 
   The partner of the empire, hath his image
   Rear’d equal with Tiberius, born in ensigns;
   Commands, disposes every dignity,
   Centurions, tribunes, heads of provinces,
   Praetors and consuls; all that heretofore
   Rome’s general suffrage gave, is now his sale. 
   The gain, or rather spoil of all the earth,
   One, and his house, receives.

Sil. 
   He hath of late
   Made him a strength too, strangely, by reducing
   All the praetorian bands into one camp,
   Which he commands:  pretending that the soldiers,
   By living loose and scatter’d, fell to riot;
   And that if any sudden enterprise
   Should be attempted, their united strength
   Would be far more than sever’d; and their life
   More strict, if from the city more removed.

Sab. 
   Where, now, he builds what kind of forts he please,
   Is heard to court the soldier by his name,
   Woos, feasts the chiefest men of action,
   Whose wants, not loves, compel them to be his. 
   And though he ne’er were liberal by kind,
   Yet to his own dark ends, he’s most profuse,
   Lavish, and letting fly, he cares not what
   To his ambition.

Arr. 
   Yet, hath he ambition? 
   Is there that step in state can make him higher,
   Or more, or anything he is, but less?

Sil.  Nothing but emperor.

Arr. 
   The name Tiberius,
   I hope, will keep, howe’er he hath foregone
   The dignity and power.

Sil.  Sure, while he lives.

Arr. 
   And dead, it comes to Drusus. 
   Should he fail, To the brave issue of Germanicus;
   And they are three:  too many-ha? for him
   To have a plot upon!

Sab. 
   I do not know
   The heart of his designs; but, sure, their face
   Looks farther than the present.

Arr. 
   By the gods,
   If I could guess he had but such a thought,
   My sword should cleave him down from head to heart,
   But I would find it out:  and with my hand
   I’d hurl his panting brain about the air
   In mites, as small as atomi, to undo
   The knotted bed-

Sab.  You are observ’d, Arruntius.

Arr. [turns to Natta, Terentius, etc.]
   Death!  I dare tell him so; and all his spies: 
   You, sir, I would, do you look? and you.

Sab.  Forbear.

Scenell.

(The former scene continued.)
A Gallery discovered opening into the state Room. 
Enter Satrius with Eudemus.

Sat. 
   Here he will instant be:  let’s walk a turn;
   You’re in a muse, Eudemus.

Eud. 
   Not I, sir. 
   I wonder he should mark me out so! well,
   Jove and Apollo form it for the best. [Aside.

Bat. 
   Your fortune’s made unto you now, Eudemus,
   If you can but lay bold upon the means;
   Do but observe his humour, and—­believe it—­
   He is the noblest Roman, where he takes—–­