Will for the promise of the old lady’s purse
Sustain the accusation: but that for this
I should be seriously held suspect
Of the infamy of parricide, or Cæsar
Of giving ear to it, this I marvel at.
As for Domitia, I would thank my sister
Even for her jealousy, were but the strife
One of good will and kindness towards my Nero.
But now she wastes her time with her man Paris,
Composing as ’twere fables for the stage.