Chapter 48

GIANETTINO DORIA, masked, in a green cloak, and the MOOR, enter in conversation.

GIANETTINO. Thou hast understood me!

MOOR. Well----

GIANETTINO. The white mask----

MOOR. Well----

GIANETTINO. I say, the white mask----

MOOR. Well--well--well----

GIANETTINO. Dost thou mark me? Thou canst only fail here! (pointing to his heart).

MOOR. Give yourself no concern.

GIANETTINO. And be sure to strike home----

MOOR. He shall have enough.

GIANETTINO (maliciously). That the poor count may not have long to suffer.

MOOR. With your leave, sir, a word--at what weight do you estimate his head?

GIANETTINO. What weight? A hundred sequins----

MOOR (blowing through his fingers). Poh! Light as a feather!

GIANETTINO. What art thou muttering?

MOOR. I was saying--it is light work.

GIANETTINO. That is thy concern. He is the very loadstone of sedition. Mark me, sirrah! let thy blow be sure.

MOOR. But, sir,--I must fly to Venice immediately after the deed.

GIANETTINO. Then take my thanks beforehand. (He throws him a bank-note.) In three days at farthest he must be cold.

[Exit.

MOOR (picking up the note). Well, this really is what I call credit to trust--the simple word of such a rogue as I am!

[Exit.