_Agr._ Pah! You’re a brace of idiots, if ye think This needs refuting. Who’s Silana, pray, That if she speak, the very bonds of nature And heaven must be repealed to give her credit, Saying a mother plots to kill her son? I marvel not that she, being childless, dares Avouch such madness, never having known How near the affections of all mothers are, Nor that a mother cannot shift her love Like an adulteress;—nay, nor do I wonder 2340 That she should find among her freedmen those, Who, having in luxury spent all their substance, Will for the promise of the old lady’s purse Sustain the accusation: but that for this I should be seriously held suspect Of the infamy of parricide, or Cæsar Of giving ear to it, this I marvel at. As for Domitia, I would thank my sister Even for her jealousy, were but the strife 2349 One of good will and kindness towards my Nero. But now she wastes her time with her man Paris, Composing as ’twere fables for the stage. Let her go back to Baiæ and her fishpools; They kept her trifling spirit well employed, When by my efforts Nero’s first adoption, Proconsular authority, consulate, And other steps to empire were procured. Are ye now answered?— Or is there any can be brought to show That I have practised with the city cohorts, 2360 Corrupted the loyalty of the provinces, Solicited the freedmen to rebellion? Or to what purpose think ye? Had Britannicus Been Cæsar, then I grant I might have lived; But if ’tis Plautus, or whoever else Should get the power, how should I lack accusers To charge me, not with words escaped in passion, But deeds and crimes—crimes—ay, Seneca, crimes, Of which I could not hope to be acquitted Save as a mother by her son? And ye 2370 Think I shall here defend myself to you! Send Cæsar to me. By the gods I swear I’ll be revenged on all who have had a hand In this most cowardly and senseless plot. I wait him here: tell him that to none other Will I resolve this matter. _Bur._ Be content To say so much in form, that our report Suffice for your acquittal. _Agr._ I bid you go. _Bur._ Cæsar shall hear your message. _Sen._ Madam, we go. _Agr._ Ay, go, good fellows; though ye have roused my passion, 2380 Your coming here hath cheered me wondrously. Nay, if ye have ever such another matter, Bring it again; be not abashed, but come; Or send your wives, and those two gentlemen, Whose names I know not. My lords, your humble servant. [_Exeunt Burrus and Seneca and two Gentlemen._