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_Pier._ 'Twas not well done; thou shouldst have strok'd him, And not have gall'd him.
_Jaf._ d.a.m.n him, let him chew on't.
Heav'n! where am I? beset with cursed fiends, That wait to d.a.m.n me! What a devil's man, When he forgets his nature----hush, my heart.
_Ren._ My friends, 'tis late; are we a.s.sembled all?
To-morrow's rising sun must see you all Deck'd in your honours. Are the soldiers ready?
_Pier._ All, all.
_Ren._ You, Durand, with your thousand, must possess St. Mark's; you, captain, know your charge already, 'Tis to secure the ducal palace.
Be all this done with the least tumult possible, 'Till in each place you post sufficient guards; Then sheathe your swords in every breast you meet.
_Jaf._ Oh! reverend cruelty! d.a.m.n'd b.l.o.o.d.y villain!
_Ren._ During this execution, Durand, you Must in the midst keep your battalia fast; And, Theodore, be sure to plant the cannon That they may command the streets; This done, we'll give the general alarm, Apply petards, and force the ars'nal gates; Then fire the city round in several places, Or with our cannon (if it dare resist) Batter to ruin. But above all I charge you, Shed blood enough; spare neither s.e.x nor age, Name nor condition; if there live a senator After to-morrow, though the dullest rogue That e'er said nothing, we have lost our ends.
If possible, let's kill the very name Of senator, and bury it in blood.
_Jaf._ Merciless, horrid slave! Ay, blood enough!
Shed blood enough, old Renault! how thou charm'st me!
_Ren._ But one thing more, and then farewell, till fate Join us again, or sep'rate us for ever.
First let's embrace. Heav'n knows who next shall thus Wing ye together; but let's all remember, We wear no common cause upon our swords: Let each man think that on his single virtue Depends the good and fame of all the rest; Eternal honour, or perpetual infamy.
You droop, sir.
_Jaf._ No; with most profound attention I've heard it all, and wonder at thy virtue.
Oh, Belvidera! take me to thy arms, And show me where's my peace, for I have lost it. [_exit._
_Ren._ Without the least remorse then, let's resolve With fire and sword t' exterminate these tyrants, Under whose weight this wretched country labours; The means are only in our hands to crown them.
_Pier._ And may those pow'rs above that are propitious To gallant minds, record this cause and bless it.
_Ren._ Thus happy, thus secure of all we wish.
Should there, my friends, be found among us one False to this glorious enterprise, what fate, What vengeance, were enough for such a villain?
_Ell._ Death here without repentance, h.e.l.l hereafter.
_Ren._ Let that be my lot, if as here I stand, Listed by fate among her darling sons, Though I had one only brother, dear by all The strictest ties of nature; could I have such a friend Join'd in this cause, and had but ground to fear He meant foul play; may this right hand drop from me, If I'd not hazard all my future peace, And stab him to the heart before you: who, Who would do less? Wouldst thou not, Pierre, the same?
_Pier._ You've singled me, sir, out for this hard question, As if it were started only for my sake!
Am I the thing you fear? Here, here's my bosom, Search it with all your swords. Am I a traitor?
_Ren._ No: but I fear your late commended friend Is little less. Come, sirs, 'tis now no time To trifle with our safety. Where's this Jaffier?
_Spin._ He left the room just now, in strange disorder.
_Ren._ Nay, there is danger in him. I observ'd him; During the time I took for explanation, He was transported from most deep attention To a confusion which he could not smother; His looks grew full of sadness and surprise, All which betray'd a wavering spirit in him, That labour'd with reluctancy and sorrow.
What's requisite for safety, must be done With speedy execution; he remains Yet in our power: I, for my own part, wear A dagger----
_Pier._ Well.
_Ren._ And I could wish it----
_Pier._ Where?
_Ren._ Buried in his heart.
_Pier._ Away; we're yet all friends, No more of this, 'twill breed ill blood among us.
_Spin._ Let us all draw our swords, and search the house, Pull him from the dark hole where he sits brooding O'er his cold fears, and each man kill his share of him.
_Pier._ Who talks of killing? Who's he'll shed the blood That's dear to me? is't you, or you, or you, sir?
What, not one speak! how you stand gaping all On your grave oracle, your wooden G.o.d there!
Yet not a word! Then, sir, I'll tell you a secret; Suspicion's but at best a coward's virtue. [_to Ren._
_Ren._ A coward! [_handles his sword._
_Pier._ Put up thy sword, old man; Thy hand shakes at it. Come, let's heal this breach; I am too hot, we yet may all live friends.
_Spin._ Till we are safe, our friendship cannot be so.
_Pier._ Again! Who's that?
_Spin._ 'Twas I.
_Theo._ And I.
_Ren._ And I.
_Omnes._ And all.
_Ren._ Who are on my side?
_Spin._ Every honest sword.
Let's die like men, and not be sold like slaves.
_Pier._ One such word more, by heaven I'll to the senate, And hang ye all, like dogs, in cl.u.s.ters.
Why weep your coward swords half out their sh.e.l.ls?
Why do you not all brandish them like mine?
You fear to die, and yet dare talk of killing.
_Ren._ Go to the senate, and betray us! haste!
Secure thy wretched life; we fear to die Less than thou dar'st be honest.
_Pier._ That's rank falsehood.
Fear'st not thou death! Fie, there's a knavish itch In that salt blood, an utter foe to smarting.
Had Jaffier's wife prov'd kind, he'd still been true.
Faugh, how that stinks! thou die, thou kill my friend!
Or thou! or thou! with that lean wither'd face.