[Exeunt Jaffier and Belvidera, guarded.
[Voices without] More traitors; room, room, make room there.
Duke. How's this! Guards!
Where are our guards? Shut up the gates; the treason's
Already at our doors.
Enter Officer.
Offi. My lords, more traitors;
Seized in the very act of consultation;
Furnished with arms and instruments of mischief.—
Bring in the prisoners.
Enter Pierre, Renault, Theodore, Eliot, Revillido, and other Conspirators, in fetters, guarded.
Pier. You, my lords and fathers
(As you are pleased to call yourselves) of Venice,
If you sit here to guide the course of justice,
Why these disgraceful chains upon the limbs
That have so often laboured in your service?
Are these the wreaths of triumphs ye bestow
On those that bring you conquests home, and honours?
Duke. Go on; you shall be heard, sir.
Ant. And be hanged, too, I hope.