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Then give him what ye owe him—liberty.

All Lucca will rise up!

Before this, I have fought upon his side; Up! let our watch-word be Castruccio's name.

Let the high Heaven hear it; will ye stand Meek, pitiful spectators of his death?

The nobles will not shed Castruccio's blood.

When have they been so merciful to spare?

They will not spare from mercy, but from fear.

Who should they fear?

The oppress'd and desperate.

Not if oppression find relief in words.

There's not a street in Lucca but should run Red with our blood before Castruccio die!

'Tis well, if ye dare act upon these words.

We dare.

Let each one to his neighbours instantly;