_Ruf._ My lords and gentlemen, since I am chosen To expound the common thought.... It sprang at first, I think, of the earthquake: seeing Cæsar’s life So near extinguished, as it was, at Naples, It came into our minds that no provision Was made for the succession; which neglect, In case of accident, might cause disturbance, 1315 And saddle us with an upstart. We agreed To choose our Cæsar; but, to shield ourselves, Would sound him privately. _Pis._ My noble friends, Ye are justified by circumstance: I share Your fears, and was acquainted with your purpose. But, ere I stand committed to your party, What are their names? Have you them writ? _Luc._ No, no. We write no names. _Pis._ Who be they? _Ruf._ You see us here. There are besides, my tribunes Statius Proximus And Granius Silvanus: my centurions Scaurus and Paullus. There’s Sulpitius Asper, And Julius Tugerinus, Martius Festus, Proculus, a whole list,—Munatius Gratus, Vulcatius Avaricus.... _Pis._ And the consul Vestinus? _Ruf._ Nay. _Pis._ Thrasea and Priscus? _Ruf._ No. 1330 _Pis._ We lack the senatorials then: perhaps Seneca is with us? _Ruf._ Nay, nor he, my lord. _Pis._ You mentioned Proculus: doth Proculus Bring all the navy? _Ruf._ Nay, our Proculus Is not Volusius. _Pis._ Nor the navy either! _Se^{o.}_ I know the Admiral, my lord: let me Sound him, if he hangs back. _Fla._ No hangers-back. _Ruf._ Your name, my lord, when we may mention it, Is all-sufficient. _Pis._ I give not my name Till Nero is dead. _Fla._ That will be soon. _Sce._ Three days. _Pis._ Indeed! how know you? _Sce._ Here I show you a sword I have whetted for the deed. _Fla._ Eh, sir! and who Named thee? _Sce._ Myself to Capitolian Jove Offered myself and weapon. _Fla._ And what, I pray, Said Jupiter? _Pet._ Peace, peace! Here in my house Let me be chairman.—— I’ll ask Scevinus first to state his plan. _Fla._ Yes, state it, sir. _Sce._ I would set fire to his house, And stab him as he hurried to and fro. _Pet._ Enough of fire. The palace is already Half-burned, and what remains of it is prospectively Lord Piso’s.—Subrius Flavus, what’s your scheme? _Fla._ I’d kill him when he is singing on the stage, In face of all the people, a sacrifice To his Greek Apollo. _Pet._ Not ill thought of, sir; But who’s to do it?—Well, Senecio?