SABINUS. Alas! these things Deserve no note, conferr’d with other vile And filthier flatteries, that corrupt the times; When, not alone our gentries chief are fain To make their safety from such sordid acts; But all our consuls, and no little part Of such as have been prætors, yea, the most Of senators, that else not use their voices, Start up in public senate and there strive Who shall propound most abject things, and base. So much, as oft Tiberius hath been heard, Leaving the court, to cry, O race of men; Prepared for servitude!—which shew’d that he. Who least the public liberty could like, As lothly brook’d their flat servility. SILIUS. Well, all is worthy of us, were it more, Who with our riots, pride, and civil hate, Have so provok’d the justice of the gods: We, that, within these fourscore years, were born Free, equal lords of the triumphed world, And knew no masters, but affections; To which betraying first our liberties, We since became the slaves to one man’s lusts; And now to many: every minist’ring spy That will accuse and swear, is lord of you, Of me, of all our fortunes and our lives. Our looks are call’d to question, and our words, How innocent soever, are made crimes; We shall not shortly dare to tell our dreams, Or think, but ’twill be treason. Sab. Tyrants’ arts Are to give flatterers grace; accusers, power; That those may seem to kill whom they devour. Enter Cordus and Arruntius. Now, good Cremutius Cordus. CORDUS. [salutes Sabinus] Hail to your lordship! NATTA. [whispers Latiaris.] Who’s that salutes your cousin? LATIARIS. ’Tis one Cordus, A gentleman of Rome: one that has writ Annals of late, they say, and very well. NATTA. Annals! of what times? LATIARIS. I think of Pompey’s, And Caius Cæsar’s; and so down to these. NATTA. How stands he affected to the present state! Is he or Drusian, or Germanic, Or ours, or neutral? LATIARIS. I know him not so far. NATTA. Those times are somewhat queasy to be touch’d. Have you or seen, or heard part of his work? LATIARIS. Not I; he means they shall be public shortly. NATTA. O, Cordus do you call him? LATIARIS. Ay. [_Exeunt Natta and Satrius._] SABINUS. But these our times Are not the same, Arruntius.