Tib. 
   It is as dangerous to make them hence,
   If nothing but their birth be their offence.

Sej. 
   Stay, till they strike at Caesar; then their crime
   Will be enough; but late and out of time For him to punish.

Tib.  Do they purpose it?

Sej. 
   You know, sir, thunder speaks not till it hit. 
   Be not secure; none swiftlier are opprest,
   Than they whom confidence betrays to rest. 
   Let not your daring make your danger such: 
   All power is to be fear’d, where ’tis too much. 
   The youths are of themselves hot, violent,
   Full of great thought; and that male-spirited dame,
   Their mother, slacks no means to put them on,
   By large allowance, popular presentings,
   Increase of train and state, suing for titles;
   Hath them commended with like prayers, like vows,
   To the same gods, with Caesar:  days and nights
   She spends in banquets and ambitious feasts
   For the nobility; where Caius Silius,
   Titius Sabinus, old Arruntius,
   Asinius Gallus, Furnius, Regulus,
   And others of that discontented list,
   Are the prime guests.  There, and to these, she tells
   Whose niece she was, whose daughter, and whose wife. 
   And then must they compare her with Augusta,
   Ay, and prefer her too; commend her form,
   Extol her fruitfulness; at which a shower
   Falls for the memory of Germanicus,
   Which they blow over straight with windy praise,
   And puffing hopes of her aspiring sons;
   Who, with these hourly ticklings, grow so pleased,
   And wantonly conceited of themselves,
   As now, they stick not to believe they’re such
   As these do give them out; and would be thought
   More than competitors, immediate heirs. 
   Whilst to their thirst of rule, they win the rout
   (That’s still the friend of novelty) with hope
   Of future freedom, which on every change
   That greedily, though emptily expects. 
   Caesar, ’tis age in all things breeds neglects,
   And princes that will keep old dignity
   Must not admit too youthful heirs stand by;
   Not their own issue; but so darkly set
   As shadows are in picture, to give height
   And lustre to themselves.

Tib. 
   We will command
   Their rank thoughts down, and with a stricter hand
   Than we have yet put forth; their trains must bate,
   Their titles, feasts, and factions.

Sej. 
   Or your state. 
   But how, sir, will you work!

Tib.  Confine them.

Sej. 
   No. 
   They are too great, and that too faint a blow
   To give them now; it would have serv’d at first,
   When with the weakest touch their knot had burst. 
   But, now, your care must be, not to detect
   The smallest cord, or line of your suspect;
   For such, who know the weight of prince’s fear,
   Will, when they find themselves