Gio. Why, how now, friend? what, talking to thyself?
Ant. O Giovanno, 'tis my unpartial thoughts,
That rise in war against my guilty conscience;
O, it stings me!
O. Tai. Be more a man, shrink not beneath a weight
So light a child may bear it; for, believe me,
If my prophetic fear deceive me not,
You'd done an act Spain should for ever praise,
Had you kill'd Machiavel too.
Ant. As how, good master—I must call you so?
This is your livery.
O. Tai. O, y' are a noble tailor. But to Machiavel—
It was my chance, being sent for by his wife
To take the measure of their noble prisoner,
Who, when I came, was busy being plac'd
Into a room, where I might easily hear
Them talk of crowns and kingdoms,
And of two that should be partners in this
End of Spain.
Gio. Who were they?
O. Tai. Machiavel and Raymond! At last Machiavel laugh'd,
Saying: for this I made the governor
To cross Antonio at the council-board;
Knowing that one must, if not both, should die.
Ant. Did he say this?
O. Tai. He did, and added more, [and] under
A feigned show of love to justice,
[He] banished your sister.
Gio. Is Evadne banish'd?