Against the sovereign, more than hell should make
   The gods do wrong.  A good man should and must
   Sit rather down with loss, than rise unjust. 
   Though, when the Romans first did yield themselves
   To one man’s power, they did not mean their lives,
   Their fortunes and their liberties, should be
   His absolute spoil, as purchased by the sword.

Lat. 
   Why we are worse, if to be slaves, and bond
   To Caesar’s slave be such, the proud Sejanus! 
   He that is all, does all, gives Caesar leave
   To hide his ulcerous and anointed face,
   With his bald crown at Rhodes, while he here stalks
   Upon the heads of Romans, and their princes,
   Familiarly to empire.

Sab. 
   Now you touch
   A point indeed, wherein he shews his art,
   As well as power.

Lat. 
   And villainy in both. 
   Do you observe where Livia lodges? how
   Drusus came dead? what men have been cut off?

Sab. 
   Yes, those are things removed:  I nearer look’d
   Into his later practice, where he stands
   Declared a master in his mystery. 
   First, ere Tiberius went, he wrought his fear
   To think that Agrippina sought his death. 
   Then put those doubts in her; sent her oft word. 
   Under the show of friendship, to beware
   Of Caesar, for he laid to poison her: 
   Drave them to frowns, to mutual jealousies,
   Which, now, in visible hatred are burst out. 
   Since, he hath had his hired instruments
   To work on Nero, and to heave him up;
   To tell him Caesar’s old, that all the people,
   Yea, all the army have their eyes on him;
   That both do long to have him undertake
   Something of worth, to give the world a hope;
   Bids him to court their grace:  the easy youth
   Perhaps gives ear, which straight he writes to Caesar;
   And with this comment:  See yon dangerous boy;
   Note but the practice of the mother, there;
   She’s tying him for purposes at hand,
   With men of sword.  Here’s Caesar put in fright
   ’Gainst son and mother.  Yet, he leaves not thus. 
   The second brother, Drusus, a fierce nature,
   And fitter for his snares, because ambitious
   And full of envy, him he clasps and hugs,
   Poisons with praise, tells him what hearts he wears,
   How bright he stands in popular expectance;
   That Rome doth suffer with him in the wrong
   His mother does him, by preferring Nero: 
   Thus sets he them asunder, each ’gainst other,
   Projects the course that serves him to condemn,
   Keeps in opinion of a friend to all,
   And all drives on to ruin.

Lat.  Caesar sleeps, And nods at this.

Sab. 
   Would he might ever sleep,
   Bogg’d in his filthy lusts! [Opsius and Rufus rush in.

Ops.  Treason to Caesar!

Ruf. 
   Lay hands upon the traitor, Latiaris,
   Or take the name thyself.