_Enter Renault._ _Ren._ Perverse and peevish! What a slave is man To let his rebel passions master him! Despatch the tool her husband--that were well. Who's there? _Jaf._ A man. _Ren._ My friend, my near ally, The hostage of your faith, my beauteous charge, is very well. _Jaf._ Sir, are you sure of that? Stands she in perfect health? Beats her pulse even; Neither too hot nor cold? _Ren._ What means that question? _Jaf._ Oh! women have fantastic constitutions, Inconstant in their wishes, always wavering, And never fix'd. Was it not boldly done, Even at first sight, to trust the thing I lov'd (A tempting treasure too) with youth so fierce And vigorous as thine? but thou art honest. _Ren._ Who dares accuse me? _Jaf._ Curs'd be he that doubts Thy virtue! I have try'd it, and declare, Were I to choose a guardian of my honour, I'd put it in thy keeping: for I know thee. _Ren._ Know me! _Jaf._ Ay, know thee. There's no falsehood in thee. Thou look'st just as thou art. Let us embrace. Now would'st thou cut my throat, or I cut thine. _Ren._ You dare not do't. _Jaf._ You lie, sir. _Ren._ How! _Jaf._ No more, 'Tis a base world, and must reform, that's all. _Enter Spinosa, Theodore, Elliott, Revillido, Durand, Bramveil, and the rest of the Conspirators._ _Ren._ Spinosa! Theodore! _Spin._ The same. _Ren._ You are welcome. _Spin._ You are trembling, sir. _Ren._ 'Tis a cold night, indeed, and I am aged; Full of decay and natural infirmities: _Re-enter Pierre._ We shall be warm, my friends, I hope, to-morrow. _Pier._ 'Twas not well done; thou shouldst have strok'd him, And not have gall'd him. _Jaf._ Damn him, let him chew on't. Heav'n! where am I? beset with cursed fiends, That wait to damn me! What a devil's man, When he forgets his nature----hush, my heart. _Ren._ My friends, 'tis late; are we assembled all? To-morrow's rising sun must see you all Deck'd in your honours. Are the soldiers ready? _Pier._ All, all. _Ren._ You, Durand, with your thousand, must possess St. Mark's; you, captain, know your charge already, 'Tis to secure the ducal palace. Be all this done with the least tumult possible, 'Till in each place you post sufficient guards; Then sheathe your swords in every breast you meet. _Jaf._ Oh! reverend cruelty! damn'd bloody villain! _Ren._ During this execution, Durand, you Must in the midst keep your battalia fast; And, Theodore, be sure to plant the cannon That they may command the streets; This done, we'll give the general alarm, Apply petards, and force the ars'nal gates; Then fire the city round in several places, Or with our cannon (if it dare resist) Batter to ruin. But above all I charge you, Shed blood enough; spare neither sex nor age, Name nor condition; if there live a senator After to-morrow, though the dullest rogue That e'er said nothing, we have lost our ends. If possible, let's kill the very name Of senator, and bury it in blood.