_Doge_. True; but when once the signal has been given, _These_ are the men for such an enterprise; These city slaves have all their private bias, Their prejudice _against_ or _for_ this noble, Which may induce them to o'erdo or spare Where mercy may be madness; the fierce peasants, 20 Serfs of my county of Val di Marino, Would do the bidding of their lord without Distinguishing for love or hate his foes; Alike to them Marcello or Cornaro, A Gradenigo or a Foscari;[eq] They are not used to start at those vain names, Nor bow the knee before a civic Senate; A chief in armour is their Suzerain, And not a thing in robes. _Ber. F._ We are enough; And for the dispositions of our clients 30 Against the Senate I will answer. _Doge_. Well, The die is thrown; but for a warlike service, Done in the field, commend me to my peasants: They made the sun shine through the host of Huns When sallow burghers slunk back to their tents, And cowered to hear their own victorious trumpet. If there be small resistance, you will find These Citizens all Lions, like their Standard;[437] But if there's much to do, you'll wish, with me, A band of iron rustics at our backs. 40 _Ber_. Thus thinking, I must marvel you resolve To strike the blow so suddenly. _Doge_. Such blows Must be struck suddenly or never. When I had o'ermastered the weak false remorse Which yearned about my heart, too fondly yielding A moment to the feelings of old days, I was most fain to strike; and, firstly, that I might not yield again to such emotions; And, secondly, because of all these men, Save Israel and Philip Calendaro, 50 I know not well the courage or the faith: To-day might find 'mongst them a traitor to us, As yesterday a thousand to the Senate; But once in, with their hilts hot in their hands, They must _on_ for their own sakes; one stroke struck, And the mere instinct of the first-born Cain, Which ever lurks somewhere in human hearts, Though Circumstance may keep it in abeyance, Will urge the rest on like to wolves; the sight Of blood to crowds begets the thirst of more, 60 As the first wine-cup leads to the long revel; And you will find a harder task to quell Than urge them when they _have_ commenced, but _till_ That moment, a mere voice, a straw, a shadow, Are capable of turning them aside.-- How goes the night? _Ber. F._ Almost upon the dawn. _Doge_. Then it is time to strike upon the bell. Are the men posted?