VEN. What did your honour? LUS. In rage push'd him from me, Trampled beneath his throat, spurn'd him, and bruis'd: Indeed I was too truel, to say troth. HIP. Most nobly manag'd! VEN. Has not heaven an ear? is all the lightning wasted? [_Aside._ LUS. If I now were so impatient in a modest cause, What should you be? VEN. Full mad: he shall not live To see the moon change. LUS. He's about the palace; Hippolito, entice him this way, that thy brother May take full mark of him. HIP. Heart! that shall not need, my lord: I can direct him so far. LUS. Yet for my hate's sake, Go, wind him this way. I'll see him bleed myself. HIP. What now, brother? [_Aside._ VEN. Nay, e'en what you will--y' are put to't, brother. [_Aside._ HIP. An impossible task, I'll swear, To bring him hither, that's already here. [_Aside._ [_Exit_ HIPPOLITO. LUS. Thy name? I have forgot it. VEN. Vendice, my lord. LUS. 'Tis a good name that. VEN. Ay, a revenger. [_Aside._ LUS. It does betoken courage; thou shouldst be valiant, And kill thine enemies. VEN. That's my hope, my lord. LUS. This slave is one. VEN. I'll doom him. LUS. Then I'll praise thee. Do thou observe me best, and I'll best raise thee. _Enter_ HIPPOLITO. VEN. Indeed, I thank you. LUS. Now, Hippolito, where's the slave-pander? HIP. Your good lordship Would have a loathsome sight of him, much offensive. He's not in case now to be seen, my lord. The worst of all the deadly sins is in him-- That beggarly damnation, drunkenness. LUS. Then he's a double slave. VEN. 'Twas well convey'd upon a sudden wit. LUS. What, are you both Firmly resolv'd? I'll see him dead myself. VEN. Or else let not us live. LUS. You may direct your brother to take note of him. HIP. I shall. LUS. Rise but in this, and you shall never fall. VEN. Your honour's vassals. LUS. This was wisely carried. [_Aside._ Deep policy in us makes fools of such: Then must a slave die, when he knows too much. [_Exit_ LUSURIOSO. VEN. O thou almighty patience! 'tis my wonder That such a fellow, impudent and wicked, Should not be cloven as he stood; Or with a secret wind burst open! Is there no thunder left:[90] or is't kept up In stock for heavier vengeance? there it goes! HIP. Brother, we lose ourselves. VEN. But I have found it; 'Twill hold, 'tis sure; thanks, thanks to any spirit, That mingled it 'mongst my inventions. HIP. What is't? VEN. Tis sound and good; thou shalt partake it; I'm hir'd to kill myself. HIP. True.