Come, come, pluck
up your spirits, comrades.
Thomaso.--That's easy to say, but quite out of my power.
Pietrino.--Mercy on me, how my teeth chatter.
Baluzzo.--Prithee, Abellino, be composed for a moment or two, your
gaiety at a time like this is quite horrible.
Cinthia.--Oh, me! oh, me! Poor murdered Matteo.
Abellino.--Hey-day. Why, what is all this! Cinthia, my life, are
you not ashamed of being such a child? Come, let you and I renew
that conversation which my sending you to wake these gentlemen
interrupted. Sit down by me, sweetheart, and give me a kiss.
Cinthia.--Out upon you, monster.
Abellino.--What, have you altered your mind, my pretty dear? Well,
well, with all my heart, when YOU are in the humour, perhaps _I_ may
not have the inclination.
Baluzzo.--Death and the devil, Abellino, is this a time for talking
nonsense? Prithee keep such trash for a fitter occasion, and let us
consider what we are to do just now.
Pietrino.--Nay, this is no season for trifling.
Struzza.--Tell us, Abellino; you are a clever fellow; what course is
it best for us to take?
Abellino (after a pause).--Nothing must be done, or a great deal.
One of two things we must choose. Either we must remain WHERE we
are, and WHAT we are, murder honest men to please any rascal who
will give us gold and fair words, and make up our minds to be hung,
broken on the wheel, condemned to the galleys, burnt alive,
crucified, or beheaded, at the long run, just as it may seem best to
the supreme authority; or else -
Thomaso.
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