Ren. Buried in his heart.

Pierr. Away! we’re yet all friends;
No more of this, ’twill breed ill blood amongst us.

Spin. Let us all draw our swords, and search the house,
Pull him from the dark hole where he sits brooding
O’er his cold fears, and each man kill his share of him.

Pierr. Who talks of killing? who’s he’ll shed the blood
That’s dear to me! is’t you? or you? or you, sir?
What, not one speak? how you stand gaping all
On your grave oracle, your wooden god there;
Yet not a word: then, sir, I’ll tell you a secret,
Suspicion’s but at best a coward’s virtue! [To RENAULT.

Ren. A coward— [Handles his sword

Pierr. Put, put up the sword, old man,
Thy hand shakes at it; come, let’s heal this breach,
I am too hot; we yet may live as friends.

Spin. Till we are safe, our friendship cannot be so.

Pierr. Again: who’s that?

Spin. ’Twas I.

Theo. And I.

Revill. And I.

Eliot. And all.

Ren. Who are on my side?

Spin. Every honest sword;
Let’s die like men and not be sold like slaves.

Pierr. One such word more, by Heav’n I’ll to the Senate
And hang ye all, like dogs in clusters.
Why peep your coward swords half out their shells?
Why do you not all brandish them like mine?
You fear to die, and yet dare talk of killing?

Ren. Go to thy Senate and betray us, hasten.
Secure thy wretched life, we fear to die
Less than thou dar’st be honest.

Pierr. That’s rank falsehood.
Fear’st not thou death? fie, there’s a knavish itch
In that salt blood, an utter foe to smarting.
Had Jaffeir’s wife proved kind, he’d still been true.
Foh—how that stinks?
Thou die! thou kill my friend, or thou, or thou,
Or thou, with that lean wither’d wretched face!
Away! disperse all to your several charges,
And meet to-morrow where your honour calls you;
I’ll bring that man, whose blood you so much thirst for,
And you shall see him venture for you fairly—
Hence, hence, I say. [Exit RENAULT angrily.

Spin. I fear we’ve been to blame;
And done too much.

Theo. ’Twas too far urged against the man you loved.

Revill. Here, take our swords and crush ’em with your feat

Spin. Forgive us, gallant friend.

Pierr. Nay, now ye’ve found
The way to melt and cast me as you will:
I’ll fetch this friend and give him to your mercy:
Nay, he shall die if you will take him from me;
For your repose I’ll quit my heart’s jewel,
But would not have him torn away by villains
And spiteful villainy.