Emerick. Conscience, good my lord,
Is but the pulse of reason. Is it conscience,
That a free nation should be handed down,
Like the dull clods beneath our feet, by chance 305
And the blind law of lineage? That whether infant,
Or man matured, a wise man or an idiot,
Hero or natural coward, shall have guidance
Of a free people's destiny, should fall out
In the mere lottery of a reckless nature, 310
Where few the prizes and the blanks are countless?
Or haply that a nation's fate should hang
On the bald accident of a midwife's handling
The unclosed sutures of an infant's skull?

Casimir. What better claim can sovereign wish or need 315
Than the free voice of men who love their country?
Those chiefly who have fought for't? Who by right,
Claim for their monarch one, who having obeyed,
[[894]] So hath best learnt to govern; who, having suffered,
Can feel for each brave sufferer and reward him? 320
Whence sprang the name of Emperor? Was it not
By Nature's fiat? In the storm of triumph,
'Mid warriors' shouts, did her oracular voice
Make itself heard: Let the commanding spirit
Possess the station of command!

Raab Kiuprili. Prince Emerick, 325
Your cause will prosper best in your own pleading.

Emerick (aside to Casimir). Ragozzi was thy school-mate—a bold spirit!
Bind him to us!—Thy father thaws apace! [Then aloud.
Leave us awhile, my lord!—Your friend, Ragozzi,
Whom you have not yet seen since his return, 330
Commands the guard to-day.

[Casimir retires to the Guard-house; and after a time appears before it with Chef Ragozzi.

We are alone.
What further pledge or proof desires Kiuprili?
Then, with your assent——

Raab Kiuprili. Mistake not for assent
The unquiet silence of a stern resolve
Throttling the impatient voice. I have heard thee, Prince! 335
And I have watched thee, too; but have small faith in
A plausible tale told with a flitting eye.
[Emerick turns as about to call for the Guard.
In the next moment I am in thy power,
In this thou art in mine. Stir but a step,
Or make one sign—I swear by this good sword, [340]
Thou diest that instant.

Emerick. Ha, ha!—Well, Sir!—Conclude your homily.

Raab Kiuprili. A tale which, whether true or false, comes guarded
Against all means of proof, detects itself.
The Queen mew'd up—this too from anxious care [345]
And love brought forth of a sudden, a twin birth
With thy discovery of her plot to rob thee
Of a rightful throne!—Mark how the scorpion, falsehood,
Coils round in its own perplexity, and fixes
Its sting in its own head!

Emerick. Aye! to the mark! [350]