He, whom you pleased to favour, is cast downPast hope of rising, by the great duke's frown,If, by your gracious means, he cannot haveA pardon;—and that got, he lives your slave.Of men the most distressed,Sanazarro.
He, whom you pleased to favour, is cast downPast hope of rising, by the great duke's frown,If, by your gracious means, he cannot haveA pardon;—and that got, he lives your slave.Of men the most distressed,Sanazarro.
Of me the most beloved; and I will save thee,Or perish with thee. Sure, thy fault must beOf some prodigious shape, if that my prayersAnd humble intercession to the duke
EnterCozimoandCharomonte.
Prevail not with him. Here he comes; delayShall not make less my benefit.
Coz.What we purposeShall know no change, and therefore move we not:We were made as properties, and what we shallDetermine of them cannot be call'd rigour,But noble justice. When they proved disloyal,They were cruel to themselves. The prince that pardonsThe first affront offer'd to majesty,Invites a second, rendering that powerSubjects should tremble at, contemptible.Ingratitude is a monster, Carolo,To be strangled in the birth, not to be cherish'd.Madam, you're happily met with.
Fior.Sir, I amAn humble suitor to you; and the ratherAm confident of a grant, in that your grace,When I made choice to be at your devotion,Vow'd to deny me nothing.
Coz.To this minuteWe have confirm'd it. What's your boon?
Fior.It is, sir,That you, in being gracious to your servant,The ne'er sufficiently praised Sanazarro,That now under your heavy displeasure suffers,Would be good unto yourself. His services,So many, and so great, (your storm of furyCalm'd by your better judgment,) must inform youSome little slip, for sure it is no more,From his loyal duty, with your justice cannotMake foul his fair deservings. Great sir, therefore,Look backward on his former worth, and turningYour eye from his offence, what 'tis I know not,And, I am confident, you will receive himOnce more into your favour.
Coz.You say well,You are ignorant in the nature of his fault;Which when you understand, as we'll instruct you,Your pity will appear a charity,It being conferr'd on an unthankful man,To be repented. He's a traitor, madam,To you, to us, to gratitude; and in thatAll crimes are comprehended.
Fior.If his offenceAim'd at me only, whatsoe'er it is,'Tis freely pardon'd.
Coz.This compassion in youMust make the colour of his guilt more ugly.The honours we have hourly heap'd upon him,The titles, the rewards, to the envy ofThe old nobility, as the common people,We now forbear to touch at, and will onlyInsist on his gross wrongs to you. You were pleased,Forgetting both yourself and proper greatness,To favour him, nay, to court him to embraceA happiness, which, on his knees, with joyHe should have sued for. Who repined not atThe grace you did him? yet, in recompenseOf your large bounties, the disloyal wretchMakes you a stale; and, what he might be by you,Scorn'd and derided, gives himself up whollyTo the service of another. If you canBear this with patience, we must say you have notThe bitterness of spleen, or ireful passionsFamiliar to women. Pause upon it,And when you seriously have weigh'd his carriage,Move us again, if your reason will allow it,His treachery known: and then, if you continueAn advocate for him, we perhaps, becauseWe would deny you nothing, may awakeOur sleeping mercy. Carolo!
Char.My lord.[They talk aside.
Fior.To endure a rival that were equal to me,Cannot but speak my poverty of spirit;But an inferior, more: yet true love must notKnow or degrees, or distances. Lidia may beAs far above me in her form, as sheIs in her birth beneath me; and what IIn Sanazarro liked, he loves in her.But, if I free him now, the benefitBeing done so timely, and confirming tooMy strength and power, my soul's best faculties beingBent wholly to preserve him, must supply meWith all I am defective in, and bind himMy creature ever. It must needs be so,Nor will I give it o'er thus.
Coz.Does your nephewBear his restraint so constantly[91], as youDeliver it to us?
Char.In my judgment, sir,He suffers more for his offence to you,Than in his fear of what can follow it.For he is so collected, and preparedTo welcome that you shall determine of him,As if his doubts and fears were equal to him.And sure he's not acquainted with much guilt,That more laments the telling one untruth,Under your pardon still, for 'twas a fault, sir,Than others, that pretend to conscience, doTheir crying secret sins.
Coz.No more; this glossDefends not the corruption of the text.Urge it no more.[Charomonteand the others talk aside.
Fior.I once more must make bold, sir,To trench upon your patience. I haveConsider'd my wrongs duly: yet that cannotDivert my intercession for a manYour grace, like me, once favour'd. I am stillA suppliant to you, that you would vouchsafeThe hearing his defence, and that I may,With your allowance, see and comfort him.Then, having heard all that he can allegeIn his excuse, for being false to you,Censure him as you please.
Coz.You will o'ercome;There's no contending with you. Pray you, enjoyWhat you desire, and tell him, he shall haveA speedy trial; in which, we will forbearTo sit a judge, because our purpose isTo rise up his accuser.
Fior.All increaseOf happiness wait on Cozimo![ExeuntFiorindaandCalaminta.
Alph.Was it no more?
Char.My honour's pawn'd for it.
Cont.I'll second you.
Hip.Since it is for the service and the safetyOf the hopeful prince, fall what can fall, I'll runThe desperate hazard.
Hier.He's no friend to virtueThat does decline it.[They all come forward and kneel.
Coz.Ha! what sue you for?Shall we be ever troubled? Do not temptThat anger may consume you.
Char.Let it, sir:The loss is less, though innocents we perish,Than that your sister's son should fall, unheard,Under your fury. Shall we fear to entreatThat grace for him, that are your faithful servants,Which you vouchsafe the count, like us a subject?
Coz.Did not we vow, till sickness had forsookThy daughter Lidia, and she appear'dIn her perfect health and beauty to plead for him,We were deaf to all persuasion?
Char.And that hope, sir,Hath wrought a miracle. She is recover'd,And, if you please to warrant her, will bringThe penitent prince before you.
Coz.To enjoySuch happiness, what would we not dispense with?
Alph. Hip. Hier.We all kneel for the prince.
Cont.Nor can it standWith your mercy, that are gracious to strangers,To be cruel to your own.
Coz.But art thou certainI shall behold her at the best?
Char.If everShe was handsome, as it fits not me to say so,She is now much better'd.
Coz.Rise; thou art but dead,If this prove otherwise. Lidia, appear,And feast an appetite almost pined to deathWith longing expectation to beholdThy excellencies: thou, as beauty's queen,Shalt censure[92]the detractors. Let my nephewBe led in triumph under her command;We'll have it so; and Sanazarro trembleTo think whom he hath slander'd. We'll retireOurselves a little, and prepare to meetA blessing, which imagination tells usWe are not worthy of: and then come forth,But with such reverence, as if I wereMyself the priest, the sacrifice my heart,To offer at the altar of that goodnessThat must or kill or save me.[Exit.
Char.Are not theseStrange gambols in the duke?
Alph.Great princes have,Like meaner men, their weakness.
Hip.And may use itWithout control or check.
Cont.'Tis fit they should;Their privilege were less else, than their subjects'.
Hier.Let them have their humours; there's no crossing them.[Exeunt.
A State-room in the same.
EnterFiorinda, Sanazarro,andCalaminta.
Sanaz.And can it be, your bounties should fall downIn showers on my ingratitude, or the wrongsYour greatness should revenge, teach you to pity?What retribution can I make, what servicePay to your goodness, that, in some proportion,May to the world express I would be thankful?Since my engagements are so great, that allMy best endeavours to appear your creatureCan but proclaim my wants, and what I oweTo your magnificence.
Fior.All debts are dischargedIn this acknowledgment: yet, since you pleaseI shall impose some terms of satisfactionFor that which you profess yourself obliged for,They shall be gentle ones, and such as will not,I hope, afflict you.
Sanaz.Make me understand,Great princess, what they are, and my obedienceShall, with all cheerful willingness, subscribeTo what you shall command.
Fior.I will bind you toMake good your promise. First, I then enjoin youTo love a lady, that, a noble way,Truly affects you; and that you would takeTo your protection and care the dukedomOf Urbin, which no more is mine, but yours.And that, when you have full possession ofMy person as my fortune, you would use me,Not as a princess, but instruct me inThe duties of an humble wife, for such,The privilege of my birth no more remember'd,I will be to you. This consented to,All injuries are forgotten.
Sanaz.I am wretched,In having but one life to be employ'dAs you please to dispose it. And, believe it,If it be not already forfeitedTo the fury of my prince, as 'tis your gift,With all the faculties of my soul I'll study,In what I may, to serve you.
Fior.I am happy
EnterGiovanniandLidia.
In this assurance. What sweet lady's this?
Sanaz.'Tis Lidia, madam, she——
Fior.I understand you.Nay, blush not; by my life, she is a rare one!And, if I were your judge, I would not blame youTo like and love her. But, sir, you are mine now;And I presume so on your constancy,That I dare not be jealous.
Sanaz.All thoughts of herAre in your goodness buried.
Lid.Pray you, sir,Be comforted; your innocence should not knowWhat 'tis to fear; and if that you but look onThe guards that you have in yourself, you cannot.The duke's your uncle, sir, and, though a littleIncensed against you, when he sees your sorrow,He must be reconciled. What rugged Tartar,Or cannibal, though bathed in human gore,But, looking on your sweetness, would forgetHis cruel nature, and let fall his weapon,Though then aim'd at your throat?
Giov.O Lidia,Of maids the honour, and your sex's glory!It is not fear to die, but to lose you,That brings this fever on me. I will nowDiscover to you, that which, till this minute,I durst not trust the air with. Ere you knewWhat power the magic of your beauty had,I was enchanted by it, liked, and loved it,My fondness still increasing with my years;And, flatter'd by false hopes, I did attendSome blessed opportunity to moveThe duke with his consent to make you mine:But now, such is my star-cross'd destiny,When he beholds you as you are, I mayAs well entreat him give away his crown,As to part from a jewel of more value.Yet, howsoever, when you are his duchess,And I am turn'd into forgotten dust,Pray you, love my memory:—I should say more,But I'm cut off.
EnterCozimo, Charomonte, Contarino, Hieronimo, Hippolito,andAlphonso.
Sanaz.The duke! That countenance, once,When it was clothed in smiles, show'd like an angel's,But, now 'tis folded up in clouds of fury,'Tis terrible to look on.
Lid.Sir.
Coz.A whileSilence your musical tongue, and let me feastMy eyes with the most ravishing object thatThey ever gazed on. There's no miniatureIn her fair face, but is a copious themeWhich would, discoursed at large of, make a volume.What clear arch'd brows! what sparkling eyes! the liliesContending with the roses in her cheeks,Who shall most set them off. What ruby lips!—Or unto what can I compare her neck,But to a rock of crystal? every limbProportion'd to love's wish, and in their neatnessAdd lustre to the riches of her habit,Not borrow from it.
Lid.You are pleased to show, sir,The fluency of your language, in advancingA subject much unworthy.
Coz.How! unworthy?By all the vows which lovers offer atThe Cyprian goddess' altars, eloquenceItself presuming, as you are, to speak you,Would be struck dumb!—And what have you deserved then, [GiovanniandSanazarrokneel.(Wretches, you kneel too late,) that have endeavour'dTo spout the poison of your black detractionOn this immaculate whiteness? Was it maliceTo her perfections? or——
Fior.Your highness promisedA gracious hearing to the count.
Lid.And prince too:Do not make void so just a grant.
Coz.We will not:Yet, since their accusation must be urged,And strongly, ere their weak defence have hearing,We seat you here, as judges, to determineOf your gross wrongs and ours. [Seats the Ladies in the chairs of state.] And now, rememberingWhose deputies you are, be neither sway'dOr with particular spleen, or foolish pity,For neither can become you.
Char.There's some hope yet,Since they have such gentle judges.
Coz.Rise, and stand forth, then,And hear, with horror to your guilty souls,What we will prove against you. Could this princess,Thou enemy to thyself, [ToSanazarro.] stoop her high flightOf towering greatness to invite thy lownessTo look up to it, and with nimble wingsOf gratitude couldst thou forbear to meet it?Were her favours boundless in a noble way,And warranted by our allowance, yet,In thy acceptation, there appear'd no signOf a modest thankfulness?
Fior.Pray you, forbearTo press that further; 'tis a fault we haveAlready heard, and pardon'd.
Coz.We will thenPass over it, and briefly touch at thatWhich does concern ourself; in which both beingEqual offenders, what we shall speak pointsIndifferently at either. How we raised thee,Forgetful Sanazarro! of our grace,To a full possession of power and honours,It being too well known, we'll not remember.And what thou wert, rash youth, in expectation,[ToGiovanni.And from which headlong thou hast thrown thyself,Not Florence, but all Tuscany, can witnessWith admiration. To assure thy hopes,We did keep constant to a widow'd bed,And did deny ourself those lawful pleasuresOur absolute power and height of blood allow'd us;Made both, the keys that open'd our heart's secrets,And what you spake, believed as oracles:But you, in recompense of this, to himThat gave you all, to whom you owed your being,With treacherous lies endeavour'd to concealThis jewel from our knowledge, which ourselfCould only lay just claim to.
Giov.'Tis most true, sir.
Sanaz.We both confess a guilty cause.
Coz.Look on her.Is this a beauty fit to be embracedBy any subject's arms? can any tireBecome that forehead but a diadem?Or, should we grant your being false to usCould be excused, your treachery to her,In seeking to deprive her of that greatness(Her matchless worth consider'd) she was born to,Must ne'er find pardon. We have spoken, ladies,Like a rough orator, that brings more truthThan rhetoric to make good his accusation;And now expect your sentence.[The Ladies descend from the state[93].
Lid.In your birth, sir,You were mark'd out the judge of life and death,And we, that are your subjects, to attend,With trembling fear, your doom.
Fior.We do resignThis chair, as only proper to yourself.
Giov.And, since injustice we are lost, we flyUnto your saving mercy.[All kneeling.
Sanaz.Which sets offA prince much more than rigour.
Char.And becomes him,When 'tis express'd to such as fell by weakness,That being a twin-born brother to affection,Better than wreaths of conquest.
Hier. Hip. Cont. Alph.We all speakTheir language, mighty sir.
Coz.You know our temper,And therefore with more boldness venture on it:And, would not our consent to your demandsDeprive us of a happiness hereafterEver to be despair'd of, we, perhaps,Might hearken nearer to you; and could wishWith some qualification, or excuse,You might make less the mountains of your crimes,And so invite our clemency to feast with you.But you, that knew with what impatiencyOf grief we parted from the fair Clarinda,Our duchess, (let her memory still be sacred!)And with what imprecations on ourselfWe vow'd, not hoping e'er to see her equal,Ne'er to make trial of a second choice,If nature framed not one that did excel her,As this maid's beauty prompts us that she does:—And yet, with oaths then mix'd with tears, uponHer monument we swore our eye should neverAgain be tempted;—'tis true, and those vowsAre register'd above, something here tells me.—Carolo, thou heard'st us swear.
Char.And swear so deeply,That if all women's beauties were in this,(As she's not to be named with the dead duchess,)Nay, all their virtues bound up in one story,(Of which mine is scarce an epitome,)If you should take her as a wife, the weightOf your perjuries would sink you. If I durst,I had told you this before.
Coz.'Tis strong truth, Carolo:And yet what was necessity in usCannot free them from treason.
Char.There's your error:The prince, in care to have you keep your vowsMade unto Heaven, vouchsafed to love my daughter[94].
Lid.He told me so, indeed, sir.
Fior.And the countAverr'd as much to me.
Cos.You all conspire,To force our mercy from us.
Char.Which given up,To aftertimes preserves you unforsworn:An honour which will live upon your tombWhen your greatness is forgotten.
Coz.Though we knowAll this is practice[95], and that both are false,Such reverence we will pay to dead Clarinda,And to our serious oaths, that we are pleasedWith our own hand to blind our eyes, and notKnow what we understand. Here, Giovanni,We pardon thee; and take from us, in this,More than our dukedom: love her. As I partWith her, all thoughts of women fly fast from us.Sanazarro, we forgive you: in your serviceTo this princess, merit it. Yet let not othersThat are in trust and grace, as you have been,By the example of our lenity,Presume upon their sovereign's clemency.
EnterCalandrinoandPetronella.
All.Long live great Cozimo!
Cal.Sure the duke isIn the giving vein, they are so loud. Come on, spouse;We have heard all, and we will have our boon too.
Coz.What is it?
Cal.That your grace, in remembrance ofMy share in a dance, and that I play'd your partWhen you should have drunk hard, would get this signior's grantTo give this damsel to me in the church,For we are contracted. In it you shall doYour dukedom pleasure.
Coz.How?
Cal.Why, the whole raceOf such as can act naturally fools' partsAre quite worn out; and they that do surviveDo only zany us: and we will bring you,If we die not without issue, of both sexesSuch chopping mirth-makers, as shall preservePerpetual cause of sport, both to your graceAnd your posterity, that sad melancholyShall ne'er approach you.
Coz.We are pleased in it,And will pay her portion.——[Comes forward.May the passage prove,Of what's presented, worthy of your loveAnd favour, as was aim'd; and we have allThat can in compass of our wishes fall.[Exeunt.
The Bondman was performed, as we learn from the Office-book of Sir Henry Herbert, Master of the Revels, at the Cockpit in Drury-lane, December 3, 1623. It was printed the following year, and again in 1638.
The main incident of the plot is taken from the life of Timoleon, as related by Plutarch. The revolt and subsequent reduction of the slaves to their duty may have been taken either from Herodotus or Justin, or Purchas's Pilgrim. The artifice by which they are quelled is silly and unnatural, and its introduction degrades a very beautifully managed plot.
The play was revived in 1660 by Betterton, who played Pisander; and several alterations of it have since been produced, but without success.
Our author never writes with more effect than when he combines his own fancy with real history; and in The Bondman he has produced a piece which is, with few exceptions, at once stately and playful, impressive and tender. He matures the love under the cover of the history; till at length the interest changes, and the history becomes subordinate to the love.
The characters are drawn with much variety and interest. The modest gravity and self-command of Timoleon well agrees with the ancient descriptions of the man from whose mouthnihil unquam insolens, neque gloriosum exiit.
TOTHE RIGHT HONOURABLE, MY SINGULAR GOOD LORD,PHILIP, EARL OF MONTGOMERY,KNIGHT OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTER, &C.RIGHT HONOURABLE,However I could never arrive at the happiness to be made known to your lordship, yet a desire, born with me, to make a tender of all duties and service to the noble family of the Herberts, descended to me as an inheritance from my dead father, Arthur Massinger. Many years he happily spent in the service of your honourable house, and died a servant to it; leaving his to be ever most glad and ready to be at the command of all such as derive themselves from his most honoured master, your lordship's most noble father. The consideration of this encouraged me (having no other means to present my humblest service to your honour) to shroud this trifle under the wings of your noble protection; and I hope, out of the clemency of your heroic disposition, it will find, though perhaps not a welcome entertainment, yet, at the worst, a gracious pardon. When it was first acted, your lordship's liberal suffrage taught others to allow it for current, it having received the undoubted stamp of your lordship's allowance: and if in the perusal of any vacant hour, when your honour's more serious occasions shall give you leave to read it, it answer, in your lordship's judgment, the report and opinion it had upon the stage, I shall esteem my labours not ill employed, and, while I live, continuethe humblest of those thattruly honour your lordship,PHILIP MASSINGER.
TO
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, MY SINGULAR GOOD LORD,
PHILIP, EARL OF MONTGOMERY,
KNIGHT OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTER, &C.
RIGHT HONOURABLE,
However I could never arrive at the happiness to be made known to your lordship, yet a desire, born with me, to make a tender of all duties and service to the noble family of the Herberts, descended to me as an inheritance from my dead father, Arthur Massinger. Many years he happily spent in the service of your honourable house, and died a servant to it; leaving his to be ever most glad and ready to be at the command of all such as derive themselves from his most honoured master, your lordship's most noble father. The consideration of this encouraged me (having no other means to present my humblest service to your honour) to shroud this trifle under the wings of your noble protection; and I hope, out of the clemency of your heroic disposition, it will find, though perhaps not a welcome entertainment, yet, at the worst, a gracious pardon. When it was first acted, your lordship's liberal suffrage taught others to allow it for current, it having received the undoubted stamp of your lordship's allowance: and if in the perusal of any vacant hour, when your honour's more serious occasions shall give you leave to read it, it answer, in your lordship's judgment, the report and opinion it had upon the stage, I shall esteem my labours not ill employed, and, while I live, continue
the humblest of those thattruly honour your lordship,PHILIP MASSINGER.
SCENE, Syracuse, and the adjacent country.
THE BONDMAN.
The Camp ofTimoleon,near Syracuse.
EnterTimagorasandLeosthenes.
Timag.Why should you droop, Leosthenes, or despairMy sister's favour? What, before, you purchasedBy courtship and fair language, in these wars(For from her soul you know she loves a soldier)You may deserve by action.
Leost.Good Timagoras,When I have said my friend, think all is spokenThat may assure me yours; and pray you believe,The dreadful voice of war that shakes the city,The thundering threats of Carthage, nor their armyRaised to make good those threats, affright not me.—If fair Cleora were confirm'd his prizeThat has the strongest arm and sharpest sword,I'd court Bellona in her horrid trim,As if she were a mistress; and bless fortune,That offers my young valour to the proof,How much I dare do for your sister's love.But, when that I consider how averseYour noble father, great Archidamus,Is, and hath ever been, to my desires,Reason may warrant me to doubt and fear,What seeds soever I sow in these warsOf noble courage, his determinate willMay blast, and give my harvest to another,That never toil'd for it.
Timag.Prithee, do not nourishThese jealous thoughts; I am thine, (and pardon me,Though I repeat it,) thy Timagoras,That, for thy sake, when the bold Theban sued,Far-famed Pisander, for my sister's love,Sent him disgraced and discontented home.I wrought my father then; and I, that stopp'd notIn the career of my affection to thee,When that renowned worthy, that brought with himHigh birth, wealth, courage, as feed advocatesTo mediate for him; never will consentA fool, that only has the shape of man,Asotus, though he be rich Cleon's heir,Shall bear her from thee.
Leost.In that trust I love.
Timag.Which never shall deceive you.
EnterMarullo.
Mar.Sir, the general,Timoleon, by his trumpets hath given warningFor a remove.
Timag.'Tis well; provide my horse.
Mar.I shall, sir.[Exit.
Leost.This slave has a strange aspect.
Timag.Fit for his fortune; 'tis a strong-limb'd knave:My father bought him for my sister's litter.O pride of women! Coaches are too common—They surfeit in the happiness of peace,And ladies think they keep not state enough,If, for their pomp and ease[96], they are not borneIn triumph on men's shoulders.
Leost.Who commandsThe Carthaginian fleet?
Timag.Gisco's their admiral,And 'tis our happiness; a raw young fellow,One never train'd in arms, but rather fashion'dTo tilt with ladies' lips, than crack a lance;Ravish a feather from a mistress' fan[97],And wear it as a favour. A steel helmet,Made horrid with a glorious plume, will crackHis woman's neck.
Leost.No more of him.—The motives,That Corinth gives us aid?
Timag.The common danger;For Sicily being afire, she is not safe:It being apparent that ambitious Carthage,That, to enlarge her empire, strives to fastenAn unjust gripe on us that live free lordsOf Syracusa, will not end, till GreeceAcknowledge her their sovereign.
Leost.I am satisfied.What think you of our general?
Timag.He's a man[Trumpets within.Of strange and reserved parts; but a great soldier.His trumpets call us, I'll forbear his character:To-morrow, in the senate-house, at largeHe will express himself.
Leost.I'll follow you.[Exeunt.
Syracuse. The Senate-house.
EnterArchidamus, Cleon, Diphilus, Olympia, Corisca, Cleora,andZanthia.
Archid.So careless we have been, my noble lords,In the disposing of our own affairs,And ignorant in the art of government,That now we need a stranger to instruct us.Yet we are happy that our neighbour Corinth,Pitying the unjust gripe Carthage would layOn Syracusa, hath vouchsafed to lend usHer man of men, Timoleon, to defendOur country and our liberties.
Diph.'Tis a favourWe are unworthy of, and we may blushNecessity compels us to receive it.
Archid.O shame! that we, that are a populous nation,Engaged to liberal nature for all blessingsAn island can bring forth; we, that have limbs,And able bodies; shipping, arms, and treasure,The sinews of the war, now we are call'dTo stand upon our guard, cannot produceOne fit to be our general.
Cleon.I am old and fat;I could say something, else.
Archid.We must obeyThe time and our occasions; ruinous buildings,Whose bases and foundations are infirm,Must use supporters: we are circled roundWith danger; o'er our heads, with sail-stretch'd wings,Destruction hovers, and a cloud of mischiefReady to break upon us; no hope left usThat may divert it, but our sleeping virtue,Roused up by brave Timoleon.
Cleon.When arrives he?
Diph.He is expected every hour.
Archid.The braveries[98]Of Syracusa, among whom my son,Timagoras, Leosthenes, and Asotus,Your hopeful heir, lord Cleon, two days sinceRode forth to meet him, and attend him toThe city; every minute we expectTo be bless'd with his presence.[Shouts within; then a flourish of trumpets.
Cleon.What shout's this?
Diph.'Tis seconded with loud music.
Archid.Which confirmsHis wish'd-for entrance. Let us entertain himWith all respect, solemnity, and pomp,A man may merit, that comes to redeem usFrom slavery and oppression.
Cleon.I'll lock upMy doors, and guard my gold: these lads of CorinthHave nimble fingers, and I fear them more,Being within our walls, than those of Carthage;They are far off.
Archid.And, ladies, be it your careTo welcome him and his followers with all duty:For rest resolved, their hands and swords must keep youIn that full height of happiness you live;A dreadful change else follows.[ExeuntArchidamus, Cleon,andDiphilus.
Olymp.We are instructed.
Coris.Musing, Cleora?
Olymp.She's studying how to entertain these strangers,And to engross them to herself.
Cleor.No, surely.
Olymp.No more; they come.
Flourish of trumpets. EnterTimagoras, Leosthenes, Asotus, Timoleonin black, led in byArchidamus, Diphilus,andCleon;followed byMarullo, Gracculo, Cimbrio,and other Slaves.
Archid.It is your seat: which, with a general suffrage, [OfferingTimoleonthe state[99].As to the supreme magistrate, Sicily tenders,And prays Timoleon to accept.
Timol.Such honoursTo one ambitious of rule[100]or titles,Whose heaven on earth is placed in his command,And absolute power o'er others, would with joy,And veins swollen high with pride, be entertain'd.They take not me; for I have ever lovedAn equal freedom, and proclaim'd all suchAs would usurp on others' libertiesRebels to nature, to whose bounteous blessingsAll men lay claim as true legitimate sons:But such as have made forfeit of themselvesBy vicious courses, and their birthright lost,'Tis not injustice they are mark'd for slaves,To serve the virtuous. For myself, I knowHonours and great employments are great burdens,And must require an Atlas to support them.He that would govern others, first should beThe master of himself, richly enduedWith depth of understanding, height of courage,And those remarkable graces which I dare notAscribe unto myself.
Archid.Sir, empty menAre trumpets of their own deserts; but you,That are not in opinion, but in proof,Really good, and full of glorious parts,Leave the report of what you are to fame,Which, from the ready tongues of all good men,Aloud proclaims you.
Diph.Besides, you stand bound,Having so large a field to exerciseYour active virtues offer'd you, to impartYour strength to such as need it.
Timol.'Tis confess'd;And, since you'll have it so, such as I am,For you, and for the liberty of Greece,I am most ready to lay down my life:But yet consider, men of Syracusa,Before that you deliver up the power,Which yet is yours, to me,—to whom 'tis given;To an impartial man, with whom nor threatsNor prayers shall prevail; for I must steerAn even course.
Archid.Which is desired of all.
Timol.Timophanes, my brother[101], for whose deathI am tainted in the world, and foully tainted;In whose remembrance I have ever worn,In peace and war, this livery of sorrow;Can witness for me how much I detestTyrannous usurpation. With griefI must remember it; for when no persuasionCould win him to desist from his bad practice,To change the aristocracy of CorinthInto an absolute monarchy, I chose ratherTo prove a pious and obedient sonTo my country, my best mother[102], than to lendAssistance to Timophanes, though my brother,That, like a tyrant, strove to set his footUpon the city's freedom.
Timag.'Twas a deedDeserving rather trophies than reproof.
Leost.And will be still remember'd to your honour,If you forsake not us.
Diph.If you free SicilyFrom barbarous Carthage' yoke[103], it will be saidIn him you slew a tyrant.
Archid.But, giving wayTo her invasion, not vouchsafing usThat fly to your protection aid and comfort,'Twill be believed that, for your private ends,You kill'd a brother.
Timol.As I then proceed,To all posterity may that act be crown'dWith a deserved applause, or branded withThe mark of infamy.—Stay yet: ere I takeThis seat of justice, or engage myselfTo fight for you abroad, or to reformYour state at home, swear all upon my sword,And call the gods of Sicily to witnessThe oath you take, that whatsoe'er I shallPropound for safety of your commonwealth,Not circumscribed or bound in, shall by youBe willingly obey'd.
Archid. Diph. Cleon.So may we prosper,As we obey in all things!
Timag. Leost. Asot.And observeAll your commands as oracles!
Timol.Do not repent it.[Takes the state.
Olymp.He ask'd not our consent.
Coris.He's a clown, I warrant him.
Olymp.He thinks womenNo part of the republic.
Coris.He shall findWe are a commonwealth.
Cleo.The less your honour.
Timol.First, then, a word or two, but without bitterness,(And yet mistake me not, I am no flatterer,)Concerning your ill government of the state;In which the greatest, noblest, and most rich,Stand, in the first file, guilty.
Cleon.Ha! how's this?
Timol.You have not, as good patriots should do, studiedThe public good, but your particular ends;Factious among yourselves, preferring suchTo offices and honours, as ne'er readThe elements of saving policy,But deeply skill'd in all the principlesThat usher to destruction.
Leost.Sharp!
Timag.The better.
Timol.Your senate-house, which used not to admitA man, however popular, to standAt the helm of government, whose youth was notMade glorious by action; whose experience,Crown'd with gray hairs, gave warrant to his counsels,Heard and received with reverence; is now fill'dWith green heads, that determine of the stateOver their cups, or when their sated lustsAfford them leisure; or supplied by thoseWho, rising from base arts and sordid thrift,Are eminent for their wealth, not for their wisdom:Which is the reason that to hold a placeIn council, which was once esteem'd an honour,And a reward for virtue, hath quite lostLustre and reputation, and is madeA mercenary purchase.
Timag.He speaks home.
Leost.And to the purpose.
Timol.From whence it proceeds,That the treasure of the city is engross'dBy a few private men, the public coffersHollow with want; and they, that will not spareOne talent for the common good, to feedThe pride and bravery of their wives, consume,In plate, in jewels, and superfluous slaves,What would maintain an army.
Coris.Have at us!
Olymp.We thought we were forgot.
Cleo.But it appearsYou will be treated of.
Timol.Yet, in this plenty,And fat of peace, your young men ne'er were train'dIn martial discipline; and your ships unrigg'dRot in the harbour: no defence prepared,But thought unuseful; as if that the gods,Indulgent to your sloth, had granted youA perpetuity of pride and pleasure,No change fear'd or expected. Now you findThat Carthage, looking on your stupid sleepsAnd dull security, was invited toInvade your territories.
Archid.You have made us see, sir,To our shame, the country's sickness: now from you,As from a careful and a wise physician,We do expect the cure.
Timol.Old fester'd soresMust be lanced to the quick, and cauterized;Which borne with patience, after I'll applySoft unguents. For the maintenance of the war,It is decreed all moneys in the handOf private men shall instantly be broughtTo the public treasury.
Timag.This bites sore.
Cleon.The cureIs worse than the disease; I'll never yield to 't:What could the enemy, though victorious,Inflict more on us? All that my youth hath toil'd for,Purchased with industry, and preserved with care,Forced from me in a moment!
Diph.This rough courseWill never be allow'd of.
Timol.O blind men!If you refuse the first means that is offer'dTo give you health, no hope's left to recoverYour desperate sickness. Do you prize your muckAbove your liberties? and rather chooseTo be made bondmen, than to part with thatTo which already you are slaves? Or can itBe probable, in your flattering apprehensions,You can capitulate with the conquerors,And keep that yours which they come to possess,And, while you kneel in vain, will ravish from you?—But take your own ways; brood upon your gold.Sacrifice to your idol, and preserveThe prey entire, and merit the reportOf careful stewards: yield a just accountTo your proud masters, who, with whips of iron,Will force you to give up what you conceal,Or tear it from your throats: adorn your wallsWith Persian hangings wrought of gold and pearl;Cover the floors on which they are to treadWith costly Median silks; perfume the roomsWith cassia and amber, where they areTo feast and revel; while, like servile grooms,You wait upon their trenchers: feed their eyesWith massy plate, until your cupboards crackWith the weight that they sustain; and, to perfectTheir entertainment, offer up your sonsAnd able men for slaves; while you, that areUnfit for labour, are spurn'd out to starve,Unpitied, in some desert, no friend by,Whose sorrow may spare one compassionate tearIn the remembrance of what once you were.
Leost.The blood turns.
Timag.Observe how old Cleon shakes,As if in picture he had shown him whatHe was to suffer.
Coris.I am sick: the manSpeaks poniards and diseases.
Olymp.O my doctor!I never shall recover.
Cleo.[coming forward.] If a virgin,Whose speech was ever yet usher'd with fear,One knowing modesty and humble silenceTo be the choicest ornaments of our sex,In the presence of so many reverend menStruck dumb with terror and astonishment,Presume to clothe her thought in vocal sounds,Let her find pardon. First to you, great sir,A bashful maid's thanks, and her zealous prayersWing'd with pure innocence, bearing them to heaven,For all prosperity that the gods can giveTo one whose piety must exact their care,Thus low I offer.
Timol.'Tis a happy omen.Rise, blest one, and speak boldly. On my virtue,I am thy warrant from so clear a springSweet rivers ever flow.
Cleo.Then, thus to you,My noble father, and these lords, to whomI next owe duty: no respect forgottenTo you, my brother, and these bold young men,(Such I would have them,) that are, or should he,The city's sword and target of defence.To all of you I speak; and, if a blushSteal on my cheeks, it is shown to reproveYour paleness, willingly I would not say,Your cowardice or fear: Think you all treasureHid in the bowels of the earth, or shipwreck'dIn Neptune's wat'ry kingdom, can hold weight,When liberty and honour fill one scale,Triumphant Justice sitting on the beam?Or dare you but imagine that your gold isToo dear a salary for such as hazardTheir blood and lives in your defence? For me,An ignorant girl, bear witness, heaven! so farI prize a soldier, that, to give him pay,With such devotion as our flamens offerTheir sacrifices at the holy altar,I do lay down these jewels, will make saleOf my superfluous wardrobe, to supplyThe meanest of their wants.[Lays down her jewels, &c.; the rest follow her example.
Timol.Brave masculine spirit!
Diph.We are shown, to our shame, what we in honourShould have taught others.
Archid.Such a fair exampleMust needs be follow'd.
Timag.Ever my dear sister,But now our family's glory!
Leost.Were she deform'd,The virtues of her mind would force a stoicTo sue to be her servant.
Cleon.I must yield;And, though my heart-blood part with it, I willDeliver in my wealth.
Asot.I would say something;But, the truth is, I know not what.
Timol.We have money;And men must now be thought on.
Archid.We can pressOf labourers in the country, men inuredTo cold and heat, ten thousand.
Diph.Or, if need be,Enrol our slaves, lusty and able varlets,And fit for service.
Cleon.They shall go for me;I will not pay and fight too.
Cleo.How! your slaves?O stain of honour!——Once more, sir, your pardon;And, to their shames, let me deliver whatI know in justice you may speak.
Timol.Most gladly:I could not wish my thoughts a better organThan your tongue, to express them.
Cleo.Are you men!(For age may qualify, though not excuse,The backwardness of these,) able young men!Yet, now your country's liberty's at the stake,Honour and glorious triumph made the garlandFor such as dare deserve them; a rich feastPrepared by Victory, of immortal viands,Not for base men, but such as with their swordsDare force admittance, and will be her guests:And can you coldly suffer such rewardsTo be proposed to labourers and slaves?While you, that are born noble, to whom these,Valued at their best rate, are next to horses,Or other beasts of carriage, cry aim[104]!Like idle lookers on, till their proud worthMake them become your masters!
Timol.By my hopes,There's fire and spirit enough in this to makeThersites valiant.
Cleo.No; far, far be it from you:Let these of meaner quality contendWho can endure most labour; plough the earth,And think they are rewarded when their toilBrings home a fruitful harvest to their lords;Let them prove good artificers, and serve youFor use and ornament, but not presumeTo touch at what is noble. If you think themUnworthy to taste of those cates you feed on,Or wear such costly garments, will you grant themThe privilege and prerogative of great minds,Which you were born to? Honour won in war,And to be styled preservers of their country,Are titles fit for free and generous spirits,And not for bondmen. Had I been born a man,And such ne'er-dying glories made the prizeTo bold heroic courage, by Diana,I would not to my brother, nay, my father,Be bribed to part with the least piece of honourI should gain in this action!
Timol.She's inspired,Or in her speaks the genius of your country,To fire your blood in her defence: I am raptWith the imagination. Noble maid,Timoleon is your soldier, and will sweatDrops of his best blood, but he will bring homeTriumphant conquest to you. Let me wearYour colours, lady; and though youthful heats,That look no further than your outward form,Are long since buried in me; while I live,I am a constant lover of your mind,That does transcend all precedents.
Cleo.'Tis an honour,[Gives her scarf.And so I do receive it.
Leost.I am for the journey.
Timag.May all diseases sloth and luxury bringFall upon him that stays at home!
Archid.Though old,I will be there in person.
Diph.So will I:Methinks I am not what I was; her wordsHave made me younger, by a score of years,Than I was when I came hither.
Cleon.I shall neverMake a good soldier, and therefore desireTo be excused at home.
Asot.'Tis my suit too.
Timol.Have your desires; you would be burthens to us.—Lead, fairest, to the temple; first we'll payA sacrifice to the gods for good success:For all great actions the wish'd course do run,That are, with their allowance, well begun.[Exeunt all but,Mar. Grac.andCimb.
Mar.Stay, Cimbrio and Gracculo.
Cimb.The business?
Mar.Meet me to-morrow night near to the grove,Neighbouring the east part of the city.
Grac.Well.
Mar.And bring the rest of our condition with you:I've something to impart may break our fetters,If you dare second me.
Cimb.We'll not fail.
Grac.A cart-ropeShall not bind me at home.
Mar.Think on 't, and prosper.[Exeunt.
The same. A Room inArchidamus's House.
EnterArchidamus, Timagoras, Leosthenes,with gorgets; andMarullo.
Archid.So, so, 'tis well: how do I look?
Mar.Most sprightfully.
Archid.I shrink not in the shoulders; though I'm oldI'm tough, steel to the back; I have not wastedMy stock of strength in featherbeds: here's an arm too;There's stuff in 't, and I hope will use a swordAs well as any beardless boy of you all.
Timag.I'm glad to see you, sir, so well preparedTo endure the travail of the war.
Archid.Go to, sirrah!I shall endure, when some of you keep your cabins,For all your flaunting feathers; nay, Leosthenes,You are welcome too[105], all friends and fellows now.
Leost.Your servant, sir.
Archid.Pish! leave these compliments,They stink in a soldier's mouth; I could be merry,For, now my gown's off, farewell gravity[106]!I fear ye, when you come to the test.—Old stories tell us,There's a month call'd October[107], which brings inCold weather; there are trenches too, 'tis rumour'd,In which to stand all night to the knees in water,In gallants breeds the toothach; there's a sport too,Namedlying perdue, do you mark me? 'tis a gameWhich you must learn to play at: now in these seasons,And choice variety of exercises,(Nay, I come to you,) and fasts, not for devotion,Your rambling youngster feels strange alterations;And in a frosty morning.——O welcome! welcome!
EnterDiphilusandCleora.
You have cut off my discourse; but I will perfectMy lecture in the camp.
Diph.Come, we are stay'd for;The general's afire for a remove,And longs to be in action.
Archid.'Tis my wish too.We must part—nay, no tears, my best Cleora;I shall melt too, and that were ominous.Millions of blessings on thee! All that's mineI give up to thy charge; and, sirrah, look[ToMarullo.You with that care and reverence observe her,Which you would pay to me.—A kiss; farewell, girl!
Diph.Peace wait upon you, fair one![ExeuntArchidamus, Diphilus,andMarullo.
Timag.'Twere impertinenceTo wish you to be careful of your honour,That ever keep in pay a guard about youOf faithful virtues: farewell!—Friend, I leave youTo wipe our kisses off; I know that loversPart with more circumstance and ceremony:Which I give way to.[Exit.
Leost.'Tis a noble favour,For which I ever owe you. We are alone;But how I should begin, or in what languageSpeak the unwilling word of parting from you,I am yet to learn.
Cleo.And still continue ignorant;For I must be most cruel to myself,If I should teach you.
Leost.Yet it must be spoken,Or you will chide my slackness. You have fired meWith the heat of noble action to deserve you;And the least spark of honour that took lifeFrom your sweet breath, still fann'd by it and cherish'd,Must mount up in a glorious flame, or IAm much unworthy.
Cleo.May it not burn here[108],And, as a seamark, serve to guide true loversSafe from the rocks of passion to the harbourOf pure affection? rising up an exampleWhich aftertimes shall witness, to our glory,First took from us beginning.
Leost.'Tis a happinessMy duty to my country, and mine honourCannot consent to; besides, add to these,It was your pleasure, fortified by persuasion,And strength of reason, for the general good,That I should go.
Cleo.Alas! I then was wittyTo plead against myself; and mine eye, fix'dUpon the hill of honour, ne'er descendedTo look into the vale of certain dangers,Through which you were to cut your passage to it.
Leost.I'll stay at home, then.
Cleo.No, that must not be;For so, to serve my own ends, and to gainA petty wreath myself, I rob you ofA certain triumph, which must fall upon you,Or Virtue's turn'd a handmaid to blind Fortune.How is my soul divided! to confirm youIn the opinion of the world, most worthyTo be beloved, (with me you're at the height,And can advance no further,) I must send youTo court the goddess of stern war, who, ifShe see you with my eyes, will ne'er return you,But grow enamour'd of you.
Leost.Sweet, take comfort!And what I offer you, you must vouchsafe me,Or I am wretched. All the dangers thatI can encounter in the war are trifles;My enemies abroad to be contemn'd:The dreadful foes, that have the power to hurt me,I leave at home with you.
Cleo.With me!
Leost.Nay, in you,In every part about you, they are arm'dTo fight against me.
Cleo.Where?
Leost.There's no perfectionThat you are mistress of, but musters upA legion against me, and all swornTo my destruction.
Cleo.This is strange!
Leost.But true, sweet;Excess of love can work such miracles!Upon this ivory forehead are intrench'dTen thousand rivals, and these suns commandSupplies from all the world, on pain to forfeitTheir comfortable beams; these ruby lips,A rich exchequer to assure their pay:This hand, Sibylla's golden bough to guard themThrough hell, and horror, to the Elysian springs;Which who'll not venture for? and, should I nameSuch as the virtues of your mind invite,Their numbers would be infinite.
Cleo.Can you thinkI may be tempted?
Leost.You were never proved[109].For me, I have conversed with you no furtherThan would become a brother. I ne'er tunedLoose notes to your chaste ears; or brought rich presentsFor my artillery, to batter downThe fortress of your honour; I never practisedThe cunning and corrupting arts they study,That wander in the wild maze of desire;Honest simplicity and truth were allThe agents I employ'd; and when I cameTo see you, it was with that reverenceAs I beheld the altars of the gods:And Love, that came along with me, was taughtTo leave his arrows and his torch behind,Quench'd in my fear to give offence.
Cleo.And 'twasThat modesty that took me, and preserves me,Like a fresh rose, in mine own natural sweetness;Which, sullied with the touch of impure hands,Loses both scent and beauty.
Leost.But, Cleora,When I am absent, as I must go from you,(Such is the cruelty of my fate,) and leave you,Unguarded, to the violent assaultsOf loose temptations; when the memoryOf my so many years of love and serviceIs lost in other objects; when you are courtedBy such as keep a catalogue of their conquests,Won upon credulous virgins; when nor fatherIs here to owe[110]you, brother to advise you,Nor your poor servant by, to keep such off,By love instructed how to undermine,And blow your constancy up; when your weak senses,At once assaulted, shall conspire against you,And play the traitors to your soul, your virtue;How can you stand? 'Faith, though you fall, and IThe judge, before whom you then stood accused,I should acquit you.
Cleo.Will you then confirmThat love and jealousy, though of different natures,Must of necessity be twins; the youngerCreated only to defeat the elder,And spoil him of his birthright[111]? 'tis not well.But being to part, I will not chide, I will not;Nor with one syllable or tear, expressHow deeply I am wounded with the arrowsOf your distrust: but when that you shall hear,At your return, how I have borne myself,And what an austere penance I take on me,To satisfy your doubts; when, like a vestal,I show you, to your shame, the fire still burning,Committed to my charge by true affection,The people joining with you in the wonder;When, by the glorious splendour of my sufferings,The prying eyes of jealousy are struck blind,The monster too that feeds on fears e'en starvedFor want of seeming matter to accuse me;Expect, Leosthenes, a sharp reproofFrom my just anger.