Come, do not hunt, And labour so about for circumstance, To make him guilty whom you have foredoom’d: Take shorter ways, I’ll meet your purposes. The words were mine, and more I now will say: Since I have done thee that great service, Cæsar, Thou still hast fear’d me; and in place of grace, Return’d me hatred: so soon all best turns, With doubtful princes, turn deep injuries In estimation, when they greater rise Than can be answer’d. Benefits, with you, Are of no longer pleasure, than you can With ease restore them; that transcended once, Your studies are not how to thank, but kill. It is your nature, to have all men slaves To you, but you acknowledging to none. The means that make your greatness, must not come In mention of it; if it do, it takes So much away, you think: and that which help’d, Shall soonest perish, if it stand in eye, Where it may front, or but upbraid the high.

Silius Monologue from Sejanus His Fall

Rehearse Silius's monologue