_Ner._ Plague on thy jesting. See static virtue stalks with folded arm 150 To set thee down. [_Thrasea comes forward._ _Thr._ Hail, Cæsar! _Ner._ Thy opinion, Thrasea, come, thy opinion. What dost thou think If I extend my palace to take in The hill whereon we stand? _Thr._ The plan no doubt Is worthy of the site, and for the site, Why, ’tis the darling spot of Rome. _Ner._ Well said. Stay. I would ask my fellow senator Wherefore he left the house three days ago Without his voice or vote. _Thr._ I judged the time 159 Unmeet to speak; and, for my vote, the senate Was of one mind: a vote was of no count. _Ner._ Thou show’dst a sense against us in not voting. _Thr._ That must thou look for, Cæsar, in the senate. _Ner._ Well, I would have thee speak. We are not full Without thy voice: nay more, such conduct makes The senate but a name; for times have been When silence was well justified by fear. Now we court criticism, ay, and look ill On those that grudge their approbation. 169 _Thr._ Cæsar commands my service and my praise; I shall not lack. _Ner._ We look for much from thee. _Thr._ Long live your majesty. [_Exit._ _Ner._ There’s something good In that man, Otho; spite of his dry mien And Stoic fashion. _Oth._ Nay, I like him not. He’s hardly flesh and blood. Old Seneca Is stiff and prosy enough; but if you pinch him, You find he yields, shows softness here and there. This man is merely stone, foursquare by rule. _Ner._ Do you despise divine philosophy? _Oth._ Well, as I take it, all philosophy 180 Is questionable guessing, but the sense A man grows up with bears the stamp of nature. _Ner._ How mean you that? _Oth._ At best this fine-spun system Is but a part of man’s experience Drawn out to contradiction of the rest. ’Tis a fool’s wisdom. _Luc._ ’Tis a form of pleasure. _Oth._ True. Though there be no theory of life That’s worth a button, yet the search for one Seems to content some men better than life. _Ner._ Call him not fool, Otho! _Oth._ Unless I wrong him, I speak as well of him as he of me. 191 Or if he say nothing, his guarded manner Covers, be sure, a more unkind contempt. _Par._ (_apeing Thr._). That must thou look for, Cæsar, in the senate. _Tig._ Ha! ha! Excellent! _Ner._ Paris would make a senator. _Oth._ Well, give me life.