Petronius.

Not go! What is’t, man?—ill?

Oth. My wife has gone, therefore I do not go:— You see the matter, maybe have foreseen it; I was too blind. Spare me your condolence; I do not wish even sympathy. You know I loved her, but ’tis over. Let me give you Such knowledge as I wish my friends to have, Else might they mistake somewhat. See! she is gone To-night against my wish: ’tis nothing more: But this will lead to much. I let my house; Sell you my wine, Petronius, if you wish it, And take—I shall not want for interest— The Lusitanian proconsulate.

Luc. You go from Rome?

Oth. I do.

Petr. Break not with Cæsar.

Oth. I’ll take employment.

Petr. Jove! I think you’re wise, Otho; you’re wise. I’ve half a mind myself To give my friends the slip. But as it is, Well .. come, I’ll take the wine; what is your price?

Oth. The price I gave.

Petr. A bargain. I shall send for it.

Luc. (to Otho). Otho, I will not go. Although thy wrong Cannot be stayed, yet would I rather die Than sit and smile on it.

Oth. I thank thee, Lucan. I’d ask thee rather look upon the matter As on a thing of course: I think it is. Go, take no note of it.

Luc. If ’tis thy wish.

Oth. It is. Good night.

Luc. and Petr. Good night. [Exeunt.