Sej. 
   If those but take, I shall.  Dull, heavy Caesar! 
   Wouldst thou tell me, thy favours were made crimes,
   And that my fortunes were esteem’d thy faults,
   That thou for me wert hated, and not think
   I would with winged haste prevent that change,
   When thou might’st win all to thyself again,
   By forfeiture of me!  Did those fond words
   Fly swifter from thy lips, than this my brain,
   This sparkling forge, created me an armour
   T’ encounter chance and thee?  Well, read my charms,
   And may they lay that hold upon thy senses,
   As thou hadst snuft up hemlock, or ta’en down
   The juice of poppy and of mandrakes.  Sleep,
   Voluptuous Caesar, and security
   Seize on ’thy stupid powers, and leave them dead
   To public cares; awake but to thy lusts,
   The strength of which makes thy libidinous soul
   Itch to leave Rome! and I have thrust it on;
   With blaming of the city business,
   The multitude of suits, the confluence
   Of suitors; then their importunacies,
   The manifold distractions he must suffer,
   Besides ill-rumours, envies, and reproaches,
   All which a quiet and retired life,
   Larded with ease and pleasure, did avoid: 
   And yet for any weighty and great affair,
   The fittest place to give the soundest counsels. 
   By this I shall remove him both from thought
   And knowledge of his own most dear affairs;
   Draw all dispatches through my private hands;
   Know his designments, and pursue mine own;
   Make mine own strengths by giving suits and places. 
   Conferring dignities and offices;
   And these that hate me now, wanting access
   To him, will make their envy none, or less: 
   For when they see me arbiter of all,
   They must observe; or else, with Caesar fall. [Exit

Scene iii.-Another Room in the same. 
Enter TIBEBIUS.

Tib. 
   To marry Livia! will no less, Sejanus,
   Content thy aim? no lower object? well! 
   Thou know’st how thou art wrought into our trust;
   Woven in our design; and think’st we must
   Now use thee, whatsoe’er thy projects are: 
   ’Tis true.  But yet with caution and fit care. 
   And, now we better think—–­who’s there within? 
                                              Enter an Officer. 
Off.  Caesar!

Tib. 
   To leave our journey off, were sin
   ’Gainst our decreed delights; and would appear
   Doubt; or, what less becomes a prince, low fear. 
   Yet doubt hath law, and fears have their excuse. 
   Where princes’ states plead necessary use;
   As ours doth now:  more in Sejanus’ pride,
   Than all fell Agrippina’s hates beside. 
   Those are the dreadful enemies we raise
   With favours, and make dangerous with praise;
   The injured by us may have will alike,
   But ’tis the favourite hath