_Pr._ No doubt. _Thr._ And in what terms touched he the murder? _Pr._ With double tongue, as being an ill which none, And Cæsar least, could have desired; and yet A good none should lament. _Thr._ He is very prompt. 1700 What glozing for the hasty burial? _Pr._ The speech was thus; that ’twas the better custom Of simple times to shun all vain parade: That private grief was mocked by frigid pomp, And public business and quiet thereby Idly disturbed;—_Then for myself_, it ran, _To have lost the aid and comfort of a brother Demands your sympathy. Of your goodwill I make no doubt; the more that my misfortune Throws me upon it, seeing that all my hopes 1710 Now anchor wholly on the commonwealth. Wherefore to you, my lords, and to the people, I look so much the more for maintenance And favour, since I now am left alone Of all my family, to bear the cares Your empire throws upon me._ _Thr._ This was well. _Pr._ Then were there gifts decreed to all his friends. _Thr._ Hush-money. Did none murmur? _Pr._ There were none So much as frowned. _Thr._ See, Lucan! let us speak with him. _Enter Lucan._ If now he be not shaken, I mistake 1720 His temper. _LUCAN._ Good day, Thrasea. _Thr._ A dull morning. _Luc._ Comest thou from the house? _Thr._ Nay, more’s the pity. There was a distribution, as I hear, To friends of order. Say, how didst thou fare? _Luc._ In many things, Thrasea, I hold not with thee, Nor will pretend that I can see in virtue A self-sufficiency invulnerable Against the crime of others. I believe The world is wronged, and burn to avenge the wrong. But, as an honest man, I take thy hand. 1730 _Thr._ I looked for this, Lucan, and take thy hand. Frivolity and crime are most unworthy Of thy companionship. _Luc._ My uncle’s hope Tainted my judgment. I have been blind, and wronged thee. _Thr._ Where I am misconceived I blame myself. _Luc._ Hear me abjure. _Thr._ Spare words. There’s no more fear Thou wilt be duped. Cæsar, in slaying his brother, Has doffed the mask. _Luc._ The heart of Rome must swell To put the monster down. _Thr._ We have our part: But in the sorry tragedy he makes 1740 We can be but spectators. On his stage There’s nought but folly. Come thou home with me: I’ll show thee how we may regard this play, Take note of all the actors, and watch the end. [_Exeunt._