Emp. Torture shall force it from them.
Bend. You would not put a nation to the rack?
Emp. Yes, the whole world; so I be safe, I care not.
Bend. Our limbs and lives
Are yours; but mixing friends with foes is hard.
Emp. All may be foes; or how to be distinguished,
If some be friends?
Bend. They may with ease be winnowed.
Suppose some one, who has deserved your trust,
Some one, who knows mankind, should be employed
To mix among them, seem a malcontent,
And dive into their breasts, to try how far
They dare oppose your love?
Emp. I like this well; 'tis wholesome wickedness.
Bend. Whomever he suspects, he fastens there,
And leaves no cranny of his soul unsearched;
Then like a bee bag'd with his honeyed venom,
He brings it to your hive;—if such a man,
So able and so honest, may be found;
If not, my project dies.
Emp. By all my hopes, thou hast described thyself:
Thou, thou alone, art fit to play that engine,
Thou only couldst contrive.
Bend. Sure I could serve you:
I think I could:—but here's the difficulty;
I am so entirely yours,
That I should scurvily dissemble hate;
The cheat would be too gross.