Seneca.

Father, and god of gods, almighty, eternal, Invoked by many names, nature’s one lord; Hail! for ’tis right that all men call on thee. For we thine offspring are.—Well said, Cleanthes! All things and creatures are as God’s possession, But we his children: and the will we have To thwart his will, he ruleth to his will, Owning the ill which he did not create But by permission; as thou goest to show. (Reading.) Nor is there any work on earth astir, But by the breath of thy divinity; Nor in the starry pole, nor in the sea, Save what the wicked in their foolish minds Devise: but thou dost order the disorderly, And even unlovely things are dear to thee. Let fools hear that, thou second Hercules! I should not fret; nay, and I shall not fret ... There’s poignancy in the utterance of this Greek That I attain not: whether it be the man Lived nearer to his nature, or that my art Clogs the clear hues of thought, and in a varnish Drowns to one tone. Would I had written that! And this too, where the bliss the poet prays for His pregnant line is witness that he hath, A vision and a share of that high wisdom, Wherewith thy justice governs all things well: That honoured bý thee we return thee honour ... That honoured by thee we return thee honour ... That’s admirable, noble: I’ll write myself Something like that. Ay, now I feel it within me: And while I am warm.—(A knocking at the door.) Of course an interruption Just as I am stirred. Come in! To mask vexation In courtesy now.

Enter Lucan, Priscus, Lateranus and Flavus.