Mont. Then send to break the truce, and I'll take care To chear the soldiers, and for fight prepare.
[Exeunt MONT. ODM. GUY. and ALIB.
Alm. to Orb. 'Tis now the hour which all to rest allow,
And sleep sits heavy upon every brow;
In this dark silence softly leave the town,
[GUYOMAR returns, and hears them.
And to the general's tent,—'tis quickly known,—
Direct your steps: You may despatch him: strait,
Drowned in his sleep, and easy for his fate:
Besides, the truce will make the guards more slack.
Orb. Courage, which leads me on, will bring me back.— But I more fear the baseness of the thing: Remorse, you know, bears a perpetual sting.
Alm. For mean remorse no room the valiant find,
Repentance is the virtue of weak minds;
For want of judgment keeps them doubtful still,
They may repent of good, who can of ill;
But daring courage makes ill actions good,
'Tis foolish pity spares a rival's blood;
You shall about it strait.
[Exeunt ALM. and ORB.
Guy. Would they betray
His sleeping virtue, by so mean a way!—
And yet this Spaniard is our nation's foe,—
I wish him dead,—but cannot wish it so;—
Either my country never must be freed,
Or I consenting to so black a deed.—
Would chance had never led my steps this way!
Now if he dies, I murder him, not they;—
Something must be resolved ere 'tis too late;—
He gave me freedom, I'll prevent his fate.
[Exit.
SCENE II.—A Camp.
Enter CORTEZ alone, in a night-gown.