 | Fazio |  |
Scene II.
—A Street.Enter Fazio with a dark Lantern.
I, wont to rove like a tame household dog,
Caress'd by every hand, and fearing none,
Now prowl e'en like a grey and treasonous wolf.
'Tis a bad deed to rob, and I'll have none on't:
'Tis a bad deed to rob—and whom? the dead?
Aye, of their winding sheets and coffin nails.
'Tis but a quit-rent for the land I sold him,
Almost two yards to house him and his worms:
Somewhat usurious in the main, but that
Is honest thrift to your keen usurer.
Had he a kinsman, nay a friend, 'twere devilish.
But now whom rob I? why the state—In sooth
Marvellous little owe I this same state,
That I should be so dainty of its welfare.
Methinks our Duke hath pomp enough, our Senate
Sit in their scarlet robes and ermine tippets,
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Where their Greek wines flow plentiful—Besides,
To scatter it abroad amid so many,
It were to cut the sun out into spangles,
And mar its brilliance by dispersing it.
Away! away! his burying is my Rubicon!
Cæsar or nothing! Now, ye close-lock'd treasures,
Put on your gaudiest hues, outshine yourselves!
With a deliverer's, not a tyrant's hand
Invade I thus your dull and peaceful slumbers,
And give ye light and liberty. Ye shall not
Moulder and rust in pale and pitiful darkness,
But front the sun with light bright as his own.
| Fazio | |