What, stand you off? at gaze? It looks too full of death for thy cold spirits. Avoid mine eye, dull camel, or my sword Shall make thy bravery fitter for a grave, Than for a triumph. I’ll advance a statue O’ your own bulk; but ’t shall be on the cross; Where I will nail your pride at breadth and length, And crack those sinews, which are yet but stretch’d With your swoln fortune’s rage. ARRUNTIUS. A noble prince! ALL. A Castor, a Castor, a Castor, a Castor! [_Exeunt all but Sejanus._] SEJANUS. He that, with such wrong moved, can bear it through With patience, and an even mind, knows how To turn it back. Wrath cover’d carries fate: Revenge is lost, if I profess my hate. What was my practice late, I’ll now pursue, As my fell justice: this hath styled it new. [_Exit._] ACT II SCENE I.—The Garden of EUDEMUS. Enter Sejanus, Livia and Eudemus. SEJANUS. Physician, thou art worthy of a province. For the great favours done unto our loves; And, but that greatest Livia bears a part In the requital of thy services, I should alone despair of aught, like means, To give them worthy satisfaction. LIVIA. Eudemus, I will see it, shall receive A fit and full reward for his large merit.— But for this potion we intend to Drusus, No more our husband now, whom shall we choose As the most apt and able instrument, To minister it to him? EUDEMUS. I say, Lygdus. SEJANUS. Lygdus? what’s he? LIVIA. An eunuch Drusus loves. EUDEMUS. Ay, and his cup-bearer. SEJANUS. Name not a second. If Drusus love him, and he have that place, We cannot think a fitter. EUDEMUS. True, my lord. For free access and trust are two main aids. SEJANUS. Skilful physician! LIVIA. But he must be wrought To the undertaking, with some labour’d art. SEJANUS. Is he ambitious? LIVIA. No. SEJANUS. Or covetous? LIVIA. Neither. EUDEMUS. Yet, gold is a good general charm. SEJANUS. What is he, then? LIVIA. Faith, only wanton, light. SEJANUS. How! is he young and fair? EUDEMUS. A delicate youth. SEJANUS. Send him to me, I’ll work him.—Royal lady, Though I have loved you long, and with that height Of zeal and duty, like the fire, which more It mounts it trembles, thinking nought could add Unto the fervour which your eye had kindled; Yet, now I see your wisdom, judgment, strength, Quickness, and will, to apprehend the means To your own good and greatness, I protest Myself through rarified, and turn’d all flame In your affection: such a spirit as yours, Was not created for the idle second To a poor flash, as Drusus; but to shine Bright as the moon among the lesser lights, And share the sov’reignty of all the world. Then Livia triumphs in her proper sphere, When she and her Sejanus shall divide The name of Cæsar, and Augusta’ s star Be dimm’d with glory of a brighter beam: When Agrippina’s fires are quite extinct, And the scarce-soon Tiberius borrows all His little light from us, whose folded arms Shall make one perfect orb. [_Knocking within._] Who’s that! Eudemus, Look.