_Enter_ (_after a shout crying_ ANTONIO) _the_ GOVERNOR _and_ COUNT MACHIAVEL. GOV. Hell take their spacious throats! we shall ere long Be pointed as a prodigy! Antonio is the man they load with praise, And we stand as a cypher to advance Him by a number higher. MACH. Now, Mach'vel, plot his ruin. [_Aside._ It is not to be borne; are not you our Master's substitute? then why should he Usurp a privilege without your leave To preach unto the people a doctrine They ought not hear? He incites 'em not to obey your charge, Unless it be to knit a friendly league With the opposing French, laying before 'em A troop of feigned dangers will ensue, If we do bid 'em battle. GOV. Dares he do this? MACH. 'Tis done already; Smother your anger, and you shall see here At the council-board he'll break into a Passion, which [_Aside_] I'll provoke him to. _To them_ ANTONIO, ALERZO, FULGENTIO, _and_ PANDOLPHO: _they sit in council_. GOV. Never more need, my worthy partners in The dangerous brunts of iron war, had we Of counsel: the hot-reined French, led by That haughty Moor, upon whose sword sits victory Enthroned, daily increase; And, like the army of another Xerxes, Make the o'erburthen'd earth groan at their weight. We cannot long hold out; nor have we hope Our royal master can raise up their siege, Ere we be forc'd to yield: My lord, your counsel; 'tis a desperate grief. MACH. And must, my lord, find undelay'd release? Noble commanders, since that war's grim god, After our sacrifice of many lives, Neglects our offerings, and repays our service With loss; 'tis good to deal with policy. He's no true soldier, that deals heedless blows With the endangering of his life; and may Walk in a shade of safety, yet o'erthrow His towering enemy. Great Alexander made the then known world Slave to his powerful will more by the help Of politic wit Than by the rough compulsion of the sword. Troy, that endur'd the Grecians ten years' siege, By policy was fir'd, and became like to A lofty beacon all on flame. GOV. Hum, hum! MACH. Suppose the French be mark'd for conquerors? Stars have been cross'd, when at a natural birth They dart prodigious beams; their influence, Like to the flame of a new-lighted taper, Has with the breath of policy been blown Out,--even to nothing. FUL. Hum, hum! ALER. This has been studied. [_Aside._] PAN. He's almost out. [_Aside._] GOV. Good. But to the matter. You counsel? MACH. 'Tis this, my lord, That straight, before the French have pitched their tents, Or rais'd a work before our city walls-- As yet their ships have not o'erspread the sea-- We send a regiment, that may with speed Land on the marshes, and begirt their backs, Whilst we open our gates, and with a strong assault Force 'em retreat into the arms of death: So the revengeful earth shall be their tomb, That did erewhile trample her teeming womb. GOV. Machiavel speaks oracle; what says Antonio? ANT. Nothing. GOV. How? ANT. Nothing.