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SCENE I.--A Street
Jetter. Hist! neighbour,--a word!
Carpenter. Go your way and be quiet.
Jetter. Only one word. Is there nothing new?
Carpenter. Nothing, except that we are anew forbidden to speak.
Carpenter. Step here, close to this house. Take heed! Immediately on his arrival,
the Duke of Alva published a decree, by which two or three, found conversing
together in the streets, are without trial, declared guilty of high treason.
Carpenter. To speak of state affairs is prohibited on pain of perpetual
Jetter. Alas for our liberty!
Carpenter. And no one, on pain of death, shall censure the measures of
Jetter. Alas, for our heads!
Carpenter. And fathers, Mothers, children, kindred, friends, and servants, are
invited, by the promise of large rewards, to disclose what passes in the privacy of
our homes, before an expressly appointed tribunal.
Jetter. Let us go home.
Carpenter. And the obedient are promised that they shall suffer no injury, either
in person or estate.
Jetter. How gracious!---I felt ill at ease the moment the duke entered the town.
Since then, it has seemed to me, as though the heavens were covered with black
crape, which hangs so low, that one must stoop down to avoid knocking one's
head against it.