Seneca to your Cæsar.
Tig.I thank thee, sire.
He dies to-night; or shall we wait to have him
Compose the palliation?
[Exit Tig.
Ner.Jest not; ’tis done.
Pop. You have talked too long, Nero; come in & rest.
Ner. He was my tutor once, and once I loved him.
Pop. You might have done it with a nod.
Ner.He is old: