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.—Or else? Well?
Abellino.—Or else we must divide the spoils which are already in our possession, quit the Republic, begin a new and better life, and endeavour to make our peace with Heaven. We have already wealth enough to make it unnecessary for us to ask how shall we get our bread? You may either buy an estate in some foreign country, or keep Osteria, or engage in commerce, or set up some trade, or, in short, do whatever you like best, so that you do but abandon the profession of an assassin. Then we may look out for a wife among the pretty girls of our own rank in life, become the happy fathers of sons and daughters may eat and drink in peace and security, and make amends by the honesty of our future lives for the offences of our past.
Thomaso.—Ha! ha! ha!
Abellino.—What you do, that will I do too; I will either hang or be broken on the wheel along with you, or become an honest man, just as you please. Now, then, what is your decision?
Thomaso.—Was there ever such a stupid counsellor.
Pietrino.—Our decision? Nay, the point’s not very difficult to decide.
Abellino.—I should have thought it had been.
Thomaso.—Without more words, then, I vote for our remaining as we are, and carrying on our old trade; that will bring us plenty of gold, and enable us to lead a jolly life.
Pietrino.—Right, lad, you speak my thoughts exactly.