May serve your generation, and permit Your old friends to betake themselves to rest. ’Twill be your praise, sire, to have enriched such men As could live happy in a mean estate. _Tig._ (_half aside_). There’s something behind this. _Ner._ (_to Tig._). Silence, I bid! (_To Sen._) If, Seneca, I am able out of hand To meet thy long premeditated speech With equal answer, that I owe to thee, And thine instruction.—First thou didst allege Mæcenas and Agrippa: but from them Divine Augustus took not back their wealth; Which if they won in danger, yet I doubt not Thy weapons and thy hand would not have wanted Had I had need of them. But what I needed That gavest thou; such reason and good counsel As shall abide with me while my life lasteth. 930 Those goods material, which thou hadst of me, Are liable to perish; and I am shamed That thou, who art the first in my affection, Art not first also in wealth:—nay, there be slaves Own more than thou:—and for thine age, I know Thou’rt lusty for thy years, and able well To enjoy thy wealth and its commodities. Keep thy rewards still, and still do us service: If slipperiness of youth be overprone To what it should not, thou mayst draw us back; And our unseemly and unruly zeal Temper with kind advice. Harked I to thee, ’Tis not thy moderation we should hear of, Nay, nor thy ease, shouldst thou forsake our service: Rather my covetousness and thy fear Would be in all men’s mouths. ’Twould ill beseem Such a philosopher as thou, at cost Of thy friend’s infamy to win thy comfort. _Tig._ Hear, hear! ’Tis well said, Cæsar! _Vat._ Admirable! But somewhat senecal. _Ner._ Embrace me, Seneca. 950 Let us be friends. _Vat._ Ye gods! I shall be jealous. Me too, my lord. _Sen._ If, Cæsar, in this embrace Power kissed philosophy, ’twere well with both. _Ner._ I have my own philosophy to kiss; Be thou content with thine. _Sen._ Nay, the wise man Is so convinced of truth, he seeks to impart it. _Ner._ I would impart my wisdom unto thee. (_A Messenger enters and speaks to Tigellinus, who goes out with him._) _Sen._ Alas! all schools alike spew out your doctrines, Zeno or Epicurus. _Ner._ That is because You all agree to teach what none believes, That pain and misery and death are nothing, But goodness all-sufficient. Tell me, Seneca, Can a good man be happy on the rack? _Vat._ Not if the rack be good.