[The cornets sound a flourish; cease.
Hark how Piero’s triumphs beat the air! 30
O, rugged mischief, how thou grat’st my heart!—
Take spirit, blood; disguise, be confident;
Make a firm stand; here rests the hope of all:
Lower than hell, there is no depth to fall.
The cornets sound a senet. Enter Feliche and Alberto, Castilio and Forobosco, a Page carrying a shield; Piero in armour; Catzo and Dildo and Balurdo. All these (saving Piero) armed with
petronels.[52] Being entered, they make a stand in divided files.
Pier. Victorious Fortune, with triumphant hand,
Hurleth my glory ’bout this ball of earth,
Whilst the Venetian Duke is heavèd up
On wings of fair success, to overlook
The low-cast ruins of his enemies,
To see myself adored and Genoa quake; 40
My fate is firmer than mischance can shake.
Feli. Stand; the ground trembleth.
Pier. Ha! an earthquake?
Bal. O! I smell a sound.
Feli. Piero, stay, for I descry a fume
Creeping from out the bosom of the deep,
The breath of darkness, fatal when ’tis wist
In greatness’ stomach. This same smoke, call’d pride,
Take heed: she’ll lift thee to improvidence,
And break thy neck from steep security; 50
She’ll make thee grudge to let Jehovah share
In thy successful battles. O! she’s ominous;
Enticeth princes to devour heaven,
Swallow omnipotence, out-stare dread fate,
Subdue eternity in giant thought;
Heaves[53] up their heart[54] with swelling, puff’d conceit,
Till their souls burst with venom’d arrogance.
Beware, Piero; Rome itself hath tried,
Confusion’s train blows up this Babel pride.
Pier. Pish! Dimitto superos, summa votorum attigi.[55] 60
Alberto, hast thou yielded up our fix’d decree
Unto the Genoan ambassador?
Are they content, if that their Duke return,
To send his and his son Antonio’s head,
As pledges steep’d in blood, to gain their peace?