Your Grace, there are two thousand people there
Who every moment grow more clamorous.
Duke
Tut, man, they waste their strength upon their lungs!
People who shout so loud, my lords, do nothing;
The only men I fear are silent men.
[A yell from the people.]
You see, Lord Cardinal, how my people love me.
[Another yell.]
Go, Petrucci,
And tell the captain of the guard below
To clear the square. Do you not hear me, sir?
Do what I bid you.
[Exit Petrucci.]
Cardinal
I beseech your Grace
To listen to their grievances.