._ Buried in his heart.

_Pierre._ Away! we're yet all friends.--
No more of this; 'twill breed ill blood among 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.

_Pierre._ (L.) Who talks of killing] Who's he'll shed
the blood,
That's dear to me? I'st you, or you, or you, sir?

_[Passing from L. to R._

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._ (C.) A coward! _[Handles his sword._

_Pierre._ (R.) Put---Put up thy sword, old man;
Thy hand shakes at it. Come, let's heal this breach;
I am too hot: we yet may all live friends.

_Spin._ Till we are safe, our friendship cannot be so.

_Pierre._ Again! Who's that?

_Spin._ 'Twas I.

_Theo._ And I.

_Ren._ And I.

_Spin._ And all.
Let's die like men, and not be sold like slaves.

_Pierre._ (C.) One such word more, by Heaven, I'll to the
senate,
And hang ye all, like dogs, in clusters.
Why peep your coward swords half out their sheaths?
Why do you not all brandish them like mine?
You fear to die, and yet dare talk of killing. _[Going, L._

_Ren._ (R. C.) Go to the senate, and betray us--haste!
Secure thy wretched life; we fear to die
Less than thou dar'st be honest.

_Pierre._ That's rank falsehood.
Fear'st thou not death? Fie, there's a knavish itch
In that salt blood, an utter foe to smarting!
Had Jaffier's wife proved kind, he'd still been true.
Faugh--how that stinks!

_[Exit Renault, R._

"Thou die? thou kill my friend?
"Or thou? with that lean, withered, wretched face!"
Away, disperse all to your several charges,
And meet to-morrow, where your honour calls you.

_[Retiring to M. D._

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!

_Spin._ I fear we've been to blame,
And done too much.

_Theo._ 'Twas too far urged against the man you love

_Elliot._ Forgive us, gallant friend.

_Pierre._ _[Advancing.]_ Nay, now you've foun