Hæmon: With him too!
Against a miracle, you are his heir!
Antonio: I think it would be well for you to listen.
My confidence once curbed——
Hæmon: May bite and paw?
Let it! for fools are threats, and cowards. Were
You Tamerlane and mine the skull should cap
A bloody pyramid of enemies,
I'd——!
Antonio: Hear me. Will you be so blind?
Hæmon: To your
Fair graces? No, my lord—not so. Your sword
And doublet are sublimely worn! sublimely!
Your curls would tempt an empress' fingers, and——
Antonio: Why is my anger silent?
Hæmon: Let it speak
And not this subtle pride! You would be friend,
A friend to me—a friend!—Did not your father
Into a sick and sunless keep cast mine
Because he was a Greek and still a Greek,
And would not be a slave? His cunning has
Not whispered death about him as a pest?
He—he, my friend? and you?—And I on him
Should lean, and flatter——?
Antonio: Cease: though he has stains
The times are tyrannous and men like beasts
Find mercy preservation's enemy.
You're heated with suspicion and old wrong,
But take my hand as pledge——
Hæmon (refusing it): That you'll be false?
Enter Bardas.