If once they seem to encroach, delay not then;
Hear no excuse nor explanation; strike,
Kill them, I say, before they murder thee.
Ner. But, mother, Seneca loves me.
Agr.As a master
Will love a pupil while he takes instruction.
He’ll love you while you let him reign. Alas!
I scarce dare leave you to him. You are too kind;
Will shrink to use the sword as it is needful
For one who rules to wield.