conquered us, and we must fall. Why droops the man, whose welfare's so much mine, They're but one thing? These reverend tyrants, Jaffier Do call us traitors. Art thou one, my brother? Jaf. (R. C.) To thee I am the falsest, veriest slave. That e'er betrayed a generous, trusting friend, And gave up honour to be sure of ruin. All our fair hopes, which morning was to've crowned, Has this cursed tongue o'erthrown. Pierre. (C.) So, then, all's over:      Venice has lost her freedom, I my life. No more! [Crosses, L. Duke. Say; will you make confession Of your vile deeds, and trust the senate's mercy! Pierre. [Returns to C.] Cursed be your senate, cursed your constitution! The curse of growing factions, and divisions, [43]     Still vex your councils, shake your public safety, And make the robes of government you wear Hateful to you, as these base chains to me! Duke. Pardon, or death? Pierre. Death! honourable death! Ren. (L.) Death's the best thing we ask, or you can give. Duke. Break up the council. Captain, guard your prisoners. Jaffier, you're free; but these must wait for judgment.       [Exeunt Duke, Senators, Conspirators, and Officer. Pierre. (C.) Come, where's my dungeon? Lead me to my straw:      It will not be the first time I've lodged hard,      To do your senate service. Jaf. (R. C.) Hold, one moment. Pierre. Who's he disputes the judgment of the senate? Presumptuous rebel!—on— [Strikes Jaffier Jaf. (C.) By Heaven, you stir not!       [Exeunt Captain and Guards, R. I must be heard! I must have leave to speak. Thou hast disgraced me. Pierre, by a vile blow:      Had not a dagger done thee nobler justice I But use me as thou wilt, thou can'st not wrong me, For I am fallen beneath the basest injuries; Yet look upon me with an eye of mercy, And, as there dwells a godlike nature in thee, Listen with mildness to my supplications. Pierre. (R. C.) What whining monk art thou? what holy cheat, That would'st encroach upon my credulous ears, And cant'st thus vilely! Hence! I know thee not! Jaf. Not know me, Pierre! Pierre. No, know thee not. What art thou? Jaf. Jaffier, thy friend, thy once loved, valued friend! Tho' now deservedly scorned, and used most hardly. Pierre. Thou, Jaffier! thou, my once-loved, valued friend! By heavens, thou ly'st; the man so called my friend, Was generous, honest, faithful, just, and valiant; Noble in mind, and in his person lovely; Dear to my eyes, and tender to my heart: [44]     But, thou, a wretched, base, false, worthless coward, Poor, even in soul, and 

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