Arr. 
   Good Heliotrope!  Is this your honest man? 
   Let him be yours so still; he is my knave.

Pom. 
   I cannot tell, Sejanus still goes on,
   And mounts, we see; new statues are advanced,
   Fresh leaves of titles, large inscriptions read,
   His fortune sworn by, himself new gone out
   Caesar’s colleague in the fifth consulship;
   More altars smoke to him than all the gods: 
   What would we more?

Arr. 
   That the dear smoke would choke him,
   That would I more.

Lep.  Peace, good Arruntius.

Lat. 
   But there are letters come, they say, ev’n now,
   Which do forbid that last.

Min.  Do you hear so?

Lac.  Yes.

Pom.  By Castor, that’s the worst.

Arr.  By Pollux, best.

Min. 
   I did not like the sign, when Regulus,
   Whom all we know no friend unto Sejanus,
   Did, by Tiberius’ so precise command,
   Succeed a fellow in the consulship: 
   It boded somewhat.

Pom. 
   Not a mote.  His partner,
   Fulcinius Trio, is his own, and sure.—–­
   Here comes Terentius. 
                                               Enter Terentius. 
   He can give us more.
                                   [They whisper with Terentius. 
Lep. 
   I’ll ne’er believe, but Caesar hath some scent
   Of bold Sejanus’ footing.  These cross points
   Of varying letters, and opposing consuls,
   Mingling his honours and his punishments,
   Feigning now ill, now well, raising Sejanus,
   And then depressing him, as now of late
   In all reports we have it, cannot be
   Empty of practice:  ‘tis Tiberius’ art. 
   For having found his favourite grown too great,
   And with his greatness strong; that all the soldiers
   Are, with their leaders, made a his devotion;
   That almost all the senate are his creatures,
   Or hold on him their main dependencies,
   Either for benefit, or hope, or fear;
   And that himself hath lost much of his own,
   By parting unto him; and, by th’ increase
   Of his rank lusts and rages, quite disarm’d
   Himself of love, or other public means,
   To dare an open contestation;
   His subtilty hath chose this doubling line,
   To hold him even in:  not so to fear him,
   As wholly put him out, and yet give check
   Unto his farther boldness.  In mean time,
   By his employments, makes him odious
   Unto the staggering rout, whose aid, in fine,
   He hopes to use, as sure, who, when they sway. 
   Bear down, o’erturn all objects in their way.

Arr. 
   You may be a Lynceus, Lepidus:  yet I
   See no such cause, but that a politic tyrant,
   Who can so well disguise it, should have ta’en
   A nearer way:  feign’d honest, and come home
   To cut his throat, by law.

Lep. 
   Ay, but his fear
   Would ne’er be mask’d, allbe his vices were.