Leost. 'Tis my fault. Distrust of others springs, Timagoras, From diffidence in ourselves. But I will strive, Timag. "Tis a guest, In wisdom, never to be entertained He does appear in pregnant proofs, not fashioned [Aside. Timag. Why she should be so passionate for a bondman, Falls not in compass of my understanding, Leost. I pray you, no more; already I have answered that objection, in my strong Timag. 'Tis unfit, then, That I should press it farther. Leost. Who, Cleora? Timag. Deliver, how. 'Sdeath, be a man, sir! speak. Timan. Take it, then, in as many sighs as words: My lady Timag. What of her? Timan. No sooner heard Marullo was imprisoned, but she fell Timug. But she recovered? Say so, or he will sink too: hold, sir! fie, Timan. Brought again to life, But with much labour, she awhile stood silent, Yet in that interim vented sighs, as if They laboured from the prison of her flesh, To give her grieved soul freedom. On the sudden, Transported on the wings of rage and sorrow, She flew out of the house, and, unattended, Entered the common prison. Pis. Could I expire now, These white and innocent hands closing my eyes thus, Twere not to die, but in a heavenly dream Chora. No, for believe it, Marullo, And be not too indulgent to your folly; And then (but that grief stops my speech) imagine What language I should use. Cleora. Against thyself.Thy malice cannot reach me. Timag. How? Cleora. No, brother! Though you join in the dialogue to accuse me, As many tongues to wound it, shall appear Timag. The base villain Shall never live to hear it. [Offers to stab Pisander, Cleora interposes. Cleora. Murder! help! Through me you shall pass to him. Enter ARCHIDAMUS, DIPHILUS, and officers. On whom is your sword drawn? Are you a judge? Leost. She's my valour's prize. Arch. With her consent, not otherwise. You And, though at first it did appear a fable, Cleora. Sir, you graced me With the title of your mistress: but my fortune Is so far distant from command, that I Lay by the power you gave me, and plead humbly For the preserver of my fame and honour; That, since I had ability of speech, My tongue hath been so much inured to truth, I know not how to lie. Timol. I'll rather doubt The oracles of the gods, than question what Enter CLEON, ASOTUS, DIPHILUS, OLYMPIA, and CORISCA. To let in mercy. Sit, and take your places: Cleon. With all rigour We do expect— Cor. Tempered, I say, with mercy. Supply defects in such a thing, that never Or any bold assurance of my worth, I have been modest, and esteemed myself Cleora. Neglect and scorn Your own dishonour in this harsh reply, With joy should offer.-Is my high birth a ble- | Retaining still the clearness of the spring, mish? Or does my wealth, which all the vain expence Am I deformed, or, for my father's sins, Your loose desires, insatiate as the grave. In the way of supposition, and entreat you, From whence it took beginning, may be thought Timag. Bold, presumptuous villain! Pis. I will go farther, and make good upon him, In the pride of all his honours, birth and fortunes, He's more unworthy than myself. Leost. Thou liest. Timag. Confute him with a whip, and, the asper-Punish him with a halter. Or any imputation black-tongued slander Timag. Are you stupid? Slight, leap into his arms, and there ask pardon- Arch. You forget The dignity of the place. Diph. Silence! Timol. Speak boldly. Pis. Tis your authority gives me a tongue; I should be dumb else; and I am secure, I cannot clothe my thoughts, and just defence, In such an abject phrase, but 'twill appear Equal, if not above, my low condition. I need no bombast language, stolen from such As make nobility from prodigious terms The bearers understand not; I bring with me No wealth to boast of, neither can I number Uncertain fortune's favours with my merits: I dare not force affection, or presume To censure her discretion, that looks on me As a weak man, and not her fancy's idol. How I have loved, and how much I have suffered, And with what pleasure undergone the burthen The glad possession of a happiness, Of mine own wants, is all that can plead for me. My ribs, though made of brass, cannot contain My heart, swoln big with rage-The lie! A whip! [Plucks off his disguise. Let fury then disperse these clouds, in which I long have masked, disguised; that, when they know Whom they have injured, they may faint with horror Of my revenge, which, wretched men! expect, As sure as fate, to suffer! Lcost. Ha! Pisander? Timag. 'Tis the bold Theban! Asot. There's no hope for me then! I thought I should have put in for a share, And borne Cleora from them both: But now, This stranger looks so terrible, that I dare not So much as look on her. Pis. Now, as myself, Thy equal at thy best, Leosthenes.— For you, Timagoras, praise heaven you were born If she resemble not Pisander's sister, Leost. 'Tis the same! my guilt Pis. This is she, To whom thou wert contracted: This is the lady, That, when thou wert my prisoner, fairly taken In the Spartan war, that begged thy liberty, True sorrow in his looks, and a consent To make me reparation in mine honour; Pis. The wrong done her I was preparing for defence elsewhere, Timol. Bring them in; And, though you have given me power, I do en treat Such as have undergone their insolence, Drew me from Thebes with a full intent to kill Pity more than revenge. thee: But this fair object met me in my fury, And quite disarmed me. Being denied to have her By you, my lord Archidamus, and not able Timol. Strange meanders! Čor. 'Twill best become you. Asot. For me, I'll find a tune Enter GRACCULO, CIMBRIO, POLIPHRON, ZANTHIA and the other slaves, with halters about their necks. Grac. Give me leave; I'll speak for all. Timol. What canst thou say, to hinder Pis. There how I bare myself needs no rela- The course of justice? tion. Grac. Nothing. You may see We are prepared for hanging, and confess Timol. Twice? How mean'st thou? Grac. At the gallows first, and after in a ballad, Sung to some villainous tune. There are tengroat rhymers About the town grown fat on these occasions.— Or any such like accident, and before They are cold in their graves, some damned ditty's made, Which makes their ghosts walk.-Let the state take order For the redress of this abuse, recording Timol. Yet I think |