_Duke._ Antony, Priuli, senators of Venice, Speak, why are we assembled here to night? What have you to inform us of, concerns The state of Venice' honour, or its safety? _Pri._ Could words express the story I've to tell you, Fathers, these tears were useless, these sad tears That fall from my old eyes; but there is cause We all should weep, tear off these purple robes, And wrap ourselves in sackcloth, sitting down On the sad earth, and cry aloud to heav'n. Heav'n knows, if yet there be an hour to come Ere Venice be no more. _All Sen._ How! _Pri._ Nay, we stand Upon the very brink of gaping ruin. Within this city's form'd a dark conspiracy, To massacre us all, our wives and children, Kindred and friends, our palaces and temples To lay in ashes; nay, the hour too fix'd; The swords, for aught I know, drawn e'en this moment, And the wild waste begun. From unknown hands I had this warning; but, if we are men, Let's not be tamely butcher'd, but do something That may inform the world, in after ages, Our virtue was not ruin'd, though we were. [_noise._ Room, room, make room for some prisoners-- _Enter Officer and Guards._ _Duke._ Speak, there. What disturbance? _Offi._ Two prisoners have the guards seiz'd in the street, Who say they come t' inform this reverend senate About the present danger. _Enter Jaffier and Officer._ _All Sen._ Give 'em entrance.--Well, who are you? _Jaf._ A villain! Would every man, that hears me, Would deal so honestly, and own his title. _Duke._ 'Tis rumour'd, that a plot has been contriv'd Against this state; and you've a share in't too. If you are a villain, to redeem your honour Unfold the truth, and be restor'd with mercy. _Jaf._ Think not, that I to save my life came hither; I know its value better; but in pity To all those wretches whose unhappy dooms Are fix'd and seal'd. You see me here before you, The sworn and covenanted foe of Venice: But use me as my dealings may deserve, And I may prove a friend. _Duke._ The slave capitulates; Give him the tortures. _Jaf._ That you dare not do; Your fear won't let you, not the longing itch To hear the story which you dread the truth of: Truth, which the fear of smart shall ne'er get from me. Cowards are scar'd with threat'nings; boys are whipt Into confessions; but a steady mind Acts of itself, ne'er asks the body counsel. Give him the tortures! Name but such a thing Again, by heav'n I'll shut these lips for ever. Not all your racks, your engines, or your wheels, Shall force a groan away, that you may guess at. _Duke._ Name your conditions. _Jaf._ For myself full pardon, Besides the lives of two-and-twenty friends, Whose names are here enroll'd. Nay, let their crimes Be ne'er so monstrous, I must have the oaths And sacred promise of this reverend council, That, in a full assembly of the senate, The thing I ask be ratify'd. Swear this, And I'll unfold the secret of your danger. _Duke._ Propose the oath.