And cry aloud, that from Rome you bring nothing
But Roman Vices, which you would plant here,
But no seed of her vertues.
Sep. With your reverence
I am too old to learn.
Ach. Any thing honest,
That I believe, without an oath.
Sep. I fear
Your Lordship has slept ill to night, and that
Invites this sad discourse: 'twill make you old