_Jaf._ Were there one wise or honest, I could kill him.

For herding with that nest of fools and knaves.

By all my wrongs, thou talk'st as if revenge Were to be had; and the brave story warms me.

_Pier._ Swear then!

_Jaf._ I do, by all those glittering stars, And yon great ruling planet of the night; By all good pow'rs above, and ill below; By love and friendship, dearer than my life, No pow'r or death shall make me false to thee.

_Pier._ Here we embrace, and I'll unlock my heart.

A council's held hard by, where the destruction Of this great empire's hatching: there I'll lead thee.

But be a man! for thou'rt to mix with men Fit to disturb the peace of all the world, And rule it when it's wildest--

_Jaf._ I give thee thanks For this kind warning. Yes, I'll be a man; And charge thee, Pierre, whene'er thou seest my fears Betray me less, to rip this heart of mine Out of my breast, and show it for a coward's.

Come, let's be gone, for from this hour I chase All little thoughts, all tender human follies Out of my bosom. Vengeance shall have room: Revenge!

_Pier._ And liberty!

_Jaf._ Revenge--revenge-- [_exeunt._

SCENE II. AQUILINA'S HOUSE.

_Enter Renault._

_Ren._ Why was my choice ambition? the worst ground A wretch can build on! It's, indeed, at distance, A goodly prospect, tempting to the view; The height delights us, and the mountain top Looks beautiful, because it's nigh to heav'n.

But we ne'er think how sandy's the foundation, What storm will batter, and what tempest shake us.

Who's there?

_Enter Spinosa._

_Spin._ Renault, good morrow, for by this time I think the scale of night has turn'd the balance, And weighs up morning! Has the clock struck twelve?

_Ren._ Yes! clocks will go as they are set; but man, Irregular man's ne'er constant, never certain: I've spent at least three precious hours of darkness In waiting dull attendance: 'tis the curse Of diligent virtue to be mix'd, like mine, With giddy tempers, souls but half resolv'd.

_Spin._ h.e.l.l seize that soul amongst us it can frighten.

_Ren._ What's then the cause that I am here alone?

Why are we not together?

_Enter Elliott._

O, sir, welcome!

You are an Englishman: when treason's hatching, One might have thought you'd not have been behindhand.

In what wh.o.r.e's lap have you been lolling?

Give but an Englishman his wh.o.r.e and ease, Beef, and a sea-coal fire, he's yours for ever.

_Ell._ Frenchman, you are saucy.

_Ren._ How!

_Enter Bedamar, the Amba.s.sador; Theodore, Bramveil, Durand, Brabe, Revillido, Mezzana, Ternon, and Retrosi, Conspirators._

_Bed._ At difference; fie!

Is this a time for quarrels? Thieves and rogues Fall out and brawl: should men of your high calling, Men separated by the choice of Providence From the gross heap of mankind, and set here In this a.s.sembly as in one great jewel, T' adorn the bravest purpose it e'er smil'd on; Should you, like boys, wrangle for trifles?

_Ren._ Boys!

_Bed._ Renault, thy hand.

_Ren._ I thought I'd given my heart Long since to every man that mingles here; But grieve to find it trusted with such tempers, That can't forgive my froward age its weakness.

_Bed._ Elliott, thou once hadst virtue. I have seen Thy stubborn temper bend with G.o.dlike goodness, Not half thus courted. 'Tis thy nation's glory To hug the foe that offers brave alliance.

Once more embrace, my friends--we'll all embrace.

United thus, we are the mighty engine Must twist this rooted empire from its basis.

Totters not it already?

_Ell._ Would 'twere tumbling.

_Bed._ Nay, it shall down; this night we seal its ruin.

_Enter Pierre._

Oh, Pierre, thou art welcome.

Come to my breast, for by its hopes thou look'st Lovelily dreadful, and the fate of Venice Seems on thy sword already. Oh, my Mars!

The poets that first feign'd a G.o.d of war, Sure prophesied of thee.

_Pier._ Friend, was not Brutus (I mean that Brutus, who in open senate Stabb'd the first Caesar that usurp'd the world), A gallant man?

_Ren._ Yes, and Catiline too; Though story wrong his fame: for he conspir'd To prop the reeling glory of his country: His cause was good.

_Bed._ And ours as much above it, As, Renault, thou'rt superior to Cethegus, Or Pierre to Ca.s.sius.

_Pier._ Then to what we aim at.

When do we start? or must we talk for ever?

_Bed._ No, Pierre, the deed's near birth; fate seems to have set The business up, and given it to our care; I hope there's not a heart or hand amongst us, But is firm and ready.

_All._ All.

We'll die with Bedamar.

_Bed._ O men Matchless! as will your glory be hereafter: The game is for a matchless prize, if won; If lost, disgraceful ruin.

_Pier._ Ten thousand men are armed at your nod, Commanded all by leaders fit to guide A battle for the freedom of the world: This wretched state has starv'd them in its service; And, by your bounty quicken'd, they're resolved To serve your glory, and revenge their own: They've all their different quarters in this city, Watch for th' alarm, and grumble 'tis so tardy.

_Bed._ I doubt not, friend, but thy unwearied diligence Has still kept waking, and it shall have ease; After this night it is resolv'd we meet No more, till Venice owns us for her lords.

_Pier._ How lovelily the Adriatic wh.o.r.e, Dress'd in her flames, will shine! Devouring flames Such as shall burn her to the watery bottom, And hiss in her foundation.

_Bed._ Now if any Amongst us, that owns this glorious cause, Have friends or interest he'd wish to save, Let it be told: the general doom is seal'd; But I'd forego the hopes of a world's empire, Rather than wound the bowels of my friend.