ARRUNTIUS.
That can my subtle whisperers tell you: we
That are the good-dull-noble lookers on,
Are only call’d to keep the marble warm.
What should we do with those deep mysteries,
Proper to these fine heads? let them alone.
Our ignorance may, perchance, help us be saved
From whips and furies.
GALLUS.
See, see, see their action!
ARRUNTIUS.
Ay, now their heads do travail, now they work;
Their faces run like shittles; they are weaving
Some curious cobweb to catch flies.
SABINUS.
Observe,
They take their places.
ARRUNTIUS.
What, so low!
GALLUS.
O yes,
They must be seen to flatter Cæsar’s grief,
Though but in sitting.
VARRO.
Bid us silence.
PRÆCONES.
Silence!
VARRO.
Fathers conscript, may this our present meeting,
Turn fair, and fortunate to the common-wealth!
Enter Silius and other Senators.