SCENE II.--_A Room in_ PIERO'S _House.

_Enter_ VENDICE _and_ HIPPOLITO, _with_ PIERO _and other_ Lords.

_Ven._ My lords, be all of music, strike old griefs into other countries That flow in too much milk, and have faint livers, Not daring to stab home their discontents. Let our hid flames break out as fire, as lightning, To blast this villainous dukedom, vexed with sin; Wind up your souls to their full height again.

_Piero._ How?

_1st Lord._ Which way?

_2nd Lord._ Any way: our wrongs are such, We cannot justly be revenged too much.

_Ven._ You shall have all enough. Revels are toward, And those few nobles that have long suppressed you, Are busied to the furnishing of a masque, And do affect to make a pleasant tale on't: The masquing suits are fashioning: now comes in That which must glad us all. We too take pattern Of all those suits, the colour, trimming, fashion, E'en to an undistinguished hair almost: Then entering first, observing the true form, Within a strain or two we shall find leisure To steal our swords out handsomely; And when they think their pleasure sweet and good, In midst of all their joys they shall sigh blood.

_Piero._ Weightily, effectually!

_3rd Lord._ Before the t'other maskers come--

_Ven._ We're gone, all done and past.

_Piero._ But how for the duke's guard?

_Ven._ Let that alone; By one and one their strengths shall be drunk down.

_Hip._ There are five hundred gentlemen in the action, That will apply themselves, and not stand idle.

_Piero._ O, let us hug your bosoms!

_Ven._ Come, my lords, Prepare for deeds: let other times have words. [_Exeunt._