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SCENE I.

The house of Marsio. Enter Marsio.
Marsio.
Kneel to Costanza,—test her constancy!
There 's something in me mutinies at that:
But she shall have full vengeance. Kneel to her!
As if I were not. Have I fallen so low
That this fine gentleman, this courtly scum,
Scorns to regard me? Traffic for her, too!
As if I kept my lady on my shelves,
To wait a market. On my life, you'll find
My heart boils sometimes, and the reek is death
To such as stir it! She shall be revenged!
[Draws forth a vial.]
Now, trembling liquid, who, to look at thee—
At thy pale, sickly aspect—at thy bulk,
Cowering to nothing in thy crystal house—
Would think that thou couldst give so brave a fall
To his befeathered Countship? What, canst thou
Stiffen the strong steel sinews of yon man
Who wields the sword so featly? As I live,
I doubt thee, mainly! Come, one sturdy shake,
To rouse thy courage. Ha! my little fellow,
How thou dost caper! Thou hast spirit, yet.
But how to face thee with thy enemies?
'T would fix suspicion on me, to be seen
Hanging around their cups. Now, could I bribe
Some fool among the servants—but whom, but whom?

97

Curse on my negligence! I should have thought—
There 's Pulti—Pulti—

(Enter Pulti.)
Pulti.
At your elbow, sir,
Quoth sin unto the devil.

Mar.
Merry dog!
What brought you back?

Pul.
You left so hastily,
I thought I might be wanted.

Mar.
Faithful heart!
Here is a trifle for you. By my soul,
Your love deserves it richly, Pulti.

[Gives a purse.]
Pul.
Well,
It makes him so much poorer. [Aside.]


Mar.
Pulti—

Pul.
Signore.

Mar.
You love your master, Pulti?

Pul.
That I do!
I 'd swim through burning brimstone for my master—
Good signore Salvatore! [Aside.]


Mar.
Bravely said!
Now, had your master two unresting foes—
Dogging his footsteps—crossing his fair plans—
Marring his hopes—turning his sweetest cup,
Ere it were tasted, to cruel bitterness—
Pursuing him with most vindictive hate—
Ever hot-footed on his way of life,
Beating its quiet path to choking dust;
Until your heart-sick master—note me, Pulti—
Longed for the grave to hide him from their wrath;
What would you do, brave, noble fellow, ha?

Pul.
Cut them to slivers!

Mar.
Famous! Rashly bold,

98

A little over-bold, however. No;
You 'd take this vial, hidden in your sleeve—
Thus, Pulti, thus—and when the wine went round,
You 'd slyly drop five drops—no more nor less—
In each one's cup—ha! Pulti? And, next day,
This vast machine of earth would tumble on,
As if these dreadful bullies ne'er had been.—
Would you not, Pulti?

Pul.
Yes, indeed. I'll swear—
Tell me some fearful oath to swear it by.

Mar.
Poh! poh! These bugbear oaths are children's toys,
Mere scare-crow buckram, to the big-souled men
Who do such mighty deeds. But you would say—
All quietly, in silent, breathless words—
My master and myself are in one boat,
And sink or swim together.—Would you not?

Pul.
I would be cautious.

Mar.
Doubtless, my wise boy!
Prudence and courage make a powerful yoke
To tug along the world.

Pul.
I take you, sir—
As rats are taken.—O! I slander rats.

[Aside.]
Mar.
But will you do it?

Pul.
By this hand, I will.

Mar.
I love to shake an honest comrade's hand.
There 's more gold, Pulti—millions, millions, boy—
And you shall share it. You shall revel out
A prince's ransom; live a gentleman,
And kick work to the devil. Hey! my trump!

Pul.
Who are these enemies?

Mar.
You long to see
The villains drink each other's healths?


99

Pul.
Ha! ha!
[Laughing.]
O! bless me, you are droll!

Mar.
These are our foes—
Yours, Pulti, and my own—that velvet Count,
That clothes-pin, modish Count Juranio,
And signore Salvatore, carte and tierce,
The ruffian, with his beaver on one side,
Who swaggers through the world, and pushes all
That do not please him in the kennel. 'Sblood!
'T were no great harm to cut such fools adrift;
'T would save some lace a sunning, and give steel
A holy rest.

Pul.
Lord! how you draw them, sir!
Those very men have troubled me a deal.
Give me some ratsbane.

Mar.
Just before the feast,
I'll slip it in your hand. Be faithful, Pulti;
There 's no such gold as mine.

Pul.
Have faith in me.
May heaven forsake me, when I leave my master!

Mar.
Bring out the horses. I must back again:
My absence will be noted.

Pul.
Bless you, bless you!—
I find it in my heart to bless you, sir,
That you employed no one but me for this.

[Exit.]
Mar.
The knave 's a God-send! Who had ever thought
That little, crooked Marsio could wake
So warm a feeling in the breast of man?
Why, what a cat's-paw for my dangerous nut
The ready villain is! I never deemed
The monstrous wretch was crammed so full of sin:
He poisons at a hint. Heaven save you, Count!

100

My fiery lover, we will cool your blood:
Heaven save you, too, bold signore Salvatore!
My dashing swordsman, we will break your guard.
Heaven save you both together, gentlemen!
I'll bow you to your graves to-morrow morn!

[Exit.]