I know thy heart so well, I dare lay mine
Before thee, set it to what point thou wilt.

Pierre. Nay, 'tis a cause thou wilt be fond of, Jaffier; For it is founded on the noblest basis;

Our liberties, our natural inheritance!

We'll do the business, and ne'er fast and pray for❜t;
Openly act a deed, the world may gaze

With wonder at, and envy when 'tis done.
Jaff. For liberty!

Pierre. For liberty, my friend.

Thou shalt be freed from base Priuli's tyranny,
And thy sequester'd fortunes heal'd again :
I shall be free from those opprobrious wrongs,
That press me now, and bend my spirit downward;
All Venice free, and every growing merit
Succeed to its just right; fools shall be pull'd
From wisdom's seat; those baleful unclean birds,
Those lazy owls, who, perch'd near fortune's top,
Sit only watchful with their heavy wings
To cuff down new-fledg'd virtues, that would rise
To nobler heights, and make the grove harmonious.
Jaff. What can I do?

Pierre. Canst thou not kill a senator?

Jaff. By all my wrongs, thou talk'st as if revenge Were to be had! and the brave story warms me. Pierre. Swear then!

Jaff. I do, by all those glittering stars, And yon great ruling planet of the night! By all good spirits above, and ill below; By love and friendship, dearer than my life, No pow'r, nor death, shall make me false to thee! Pierre. 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 thouʼrt to mix with men Fit to disturb the peace of all the world, And rule it when 'tis wildest.

Jaff. 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 begone, for from this hour I chase
All little thoughts, all tender human follies
Out of my bosom: Vengeance shall have room—
Revenge!

Pierre. And liberty!

Juff. Revenge! revenge!

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A Room in the House of AQUILINA.

Enter RENAult.

Ren. Why was my choice ambition? The worst ground

A wretch can build on! 'tis, indeed, at distance,
A goodly prospect, tempting to the view;
The height delights us, and the mountain top
Looks beautiful, because 'tis nigh to heaven;
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. Hell seize that soul amongst us it can
frighten !

Ren. What's then the cause that I am here alone? Why are we not together?

O, sir, welcome!

Enter ELLIOT.

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

In what whore's lap have you been lolling?
Give but an Englishman his whore and ease,
Beef and a sea-coal fire, he's yours for ever.
Elliot. Frenchman, you are saucy.

Ren. How?

[Puts his hand to his Sword.

Enter BEDAMAR, MEZZANA, DURAND, and
THEODORE.

Beda. 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 assembly, as in one great jewel,

T' adorn the bravest purpose it e'er smiled on;
Should you, like boys, wrangle for trifles?
Ren. Boys!

Beda. 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.
Beda. Elliot, thou once hadst virtue. I have seen
Thy stubborn temper bend with godlike goodness,
Not half thus courted: 'Tis thy nation's glory

To hug the foe, that offers brave alliance.
Once more, embrace, my friends—
United thus, we are the mighty engine,

Must twist this rooted empire from its basis.
Totters it not already?

Elliot. 'Would 'twere tumbling!

Beda. Nay, it shall down: this night we seal its ruin.

Enter PIERRE.

O 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. O, my Mars!
The poets that first feign'd a god of war,
Sure prophesy'd of thee!

Pierre. Friends, was not Brutus

(I mean that Brutus, who, in open senate, Stabb'd the first Cæsar 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.

Beda. And ours as much above it,

As, Renault, thou'rt superior to Cethegus,
Or Pierre to Cassius.

Pierre. Then to what we aim at.

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

Beda. 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 what is firm and ready.

Elliot. All.

We'll die with Bedamar.

Beda. O men,

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

Pierre. 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 resolv'd
To serve your glory, and revenge their own:
They've all their different quarters in this city,
Watch for the alarm, and grumble, 'tis so tardy.
Beda. I doubt not, friend, but thy unwearied dili-
gence

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.

Pierre. How lovelily the Adriatic whore,
Dress'd in her flames, will shine! Devouring flames,
Such as shall burn her to the watery bottom,
And hiss in her foundation.

Beda. Now, if any

Amongst us, that owns this glorious cause,
Have friends or int'rest he would 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.

Pierre. I must confess you there have touch'd my weakness.

I have a friend-hear it; and such a friend!
My heart was ne'er shut to him. Nay, I'll tell you,
He knows the very business of this hour; [All start.
But he rejoices in the cause, and loves it:
We've changed a vow, to live and die together,
And he's at hand, to ratify it here.

Ren. How! all betray'd!

Pierre. No; I've dealt nobly with you,

I've brought my all into the public stock:

I'd but one friend, and him I'll share amongst you :

D