Leost.What will you do?
Cleo.Obey me,Or from this minute you are a stranger to me;And do 't without reply. All-seeing sun,Thou witness of my innocence, thus I closeMine eyes against thy comfortable light,'Till the return of this distrustful man!Now bind them sure;—nay, do 't: [He binds her eyes with her scarf.] If, uncompell'd,I loose this knot, until the hands that made itBe pleased to untie it, may consuming plaguesFall heavy on me! pray you guide me to your lips.This kiss, when you come back, shall be a virginTo bid you welcome; nay, I have not done yet:I will continue dumb, and, you once gone,No accent shall come from me. Now to my chamber,My tomb, if you miscarry: there I'll spendMy hours in silent mourning, and thus muchShall be reported of me to my glory,And you confess it, whether I live or die,My constancy triumphs o'er your jealousy.[Exeunt.
The same. A Room inCleon's House.
EnterAsotus,driving inGracculo.
Asot.You slave! you dog! down, cur!
Grac.Hold, good young master,For pity's sake!
Asot.Now am I in my kingdom:—Who says I am not valiant? I beginTo frown again: quake, villain!
Grac.So I do, sir;Your looks are agues to me.
Asot.Are they so, sir!'Slight, if I had them at this bay that flout me,And say I look like a sheep and an ass, I'd make themFeel that I am a lion.
Grac.Do not roar, sir,As you are a valiant beast: but do you knowWhy you use me thus?
Asot.I'll beat thee a little more,Then study for a reason. O! I have it:One brake a jest on me, and then I swore,(Because I durst not strike him,) when I came home,That I would break thy head.
Grac.Plague on his mirth!I am sure I mourn for 't.
Asot.Remember too, I charge you,To teach my horse good manners yet; this morning,As I rode to take the air, the untutor'd jadeThrew me, and kick'd me.
Grac.I thank him for 't.[Aside.
Asot.What's that?
Grac.I say, sir, I will teach him to hold his heels,If you will rule your fingers.
Asot.I'll think upon 't.
Grac.I am bruised to jelly: better be a dog,Than slave to a fool or coward.[Aside.
Asot.Here's my mother,
EnterCoriscaandZanthia.
She is chastising too: how brave we live,That have our slaves to beat, to keep us in breathWhen we want exercise!
Coris.Careless creature,[Striking her.Look to 't; if a curl fall, or wind or sunTake my complexion off, I will not leaveOne hair upon thine head.
Grac.Here's a second showOf the family of pride![Aside.
Coris.Fie on these wars!I'm starved for want of action. When were you withYour mistress, fair Cleora?
Asot.Two days sithence;But she's so coy, forsooth, that ere I canSpeak a penn'd speech I have bought and studied for her,Her woman calls her away.
Coris.Here's a dull thing!
Zant.Madam, my lord.
EnterCleon.
Cleon.Where are you, wife? I fain would go abroad,But cannot find my slaves that bear my litter;I am tired. Your shoulder, son;—nay, sweet, thy hand too:A turn or two in the garden, and then to supper,And so to bed.
Asot.Never to rise, I hope, more.[Aside.[Exeunt.
A Grove near the Walls of Syracuse.
EnterMarulloandPoliphron.A Table set out with Wine, &c.
Mar.'Twill take, I warrant thee.
Poliph.You may do your pleasure;But, in my judgment, better to make use ofThe present opportunity.
Mar.No more.
Poliph.I am silenced.
Mar.More wine; prithee drink hard, friend,And when we're hot, whatever I propound,
EnterCimbrio, Gracculo,and other Slaves.
Second with vehemence.—Men of your words, all welcome!Slaves use no ceremony; sit down; here's a health.
Poliph.Let it run round; fill every man his glass.
Grac.We look for no waiters;—this is wine!
Mar.The better,Strong, lusty wine: drink deep; this juice will make usAs free as our lords.[Drinks.
Grac.But if they find we taste it,We are condemn'd to the quarry during life,Without hope of redemption.
Mar.Pish! for thatWe'll talk anon: another rouse[112]! we lose time;[Drinks.When our low blood's wound up a little higher,I'll offer my design; nay, we are cold yet;These glasses contain nothing:—do me right,[Takes the bottle.As e'er you hope for liberty. 'Tis done bravely:How do you feel yourselves now?
Cimb.I beginTo have strange conundrums in my head.
Grac.And ITo loathe base water. I would be hang'd in peace nowFor one month of such holidays.
Mar.An age, boys,And yet defy the whip; if you are men,Or dare believe you have souls.
Cimb.We are no brokers.
Mar.Our lords are no gods—
Grac.They are devils to us, I am sure.
Mar.But subject toCold, hunger, and diseases.
Grac.In abundance.
Mar.Equal Nature fashion'd usAll in one mould. The bear serves not the bear,Nor the wolf the wolf; 'twas odds of strength in tyrantsThat pluck'd the first link from the golden chainWith which thatThing of Things[113]bound in the world.Why then, since we are taught, by their examples,To love our liberty, if not command,Should the strong serve the weak, the fair, deform'd ones?Or such as know the cause of things pay tributeTo ignorant fools? All's but the outward gloss,And politic form, that does distinguish us.—Cimbrio, thou art a strong man; if, in placeOf carrying burthens, thou hadst been train'd upIn martial discipline, thou might'st have provedA general, fit to lead and fight for Sicily,As fortunate as Timoleon.
Cimb.A little fightingWill serve a general's turn.
Mar.Thou, Gracculo,Hast fluency of language, quick conceit;And, I think, cover'd with a senator's robe,Formally set on the bench, thou wouldst appearAs brave a senator.
Grac.Would I had lands,Or money to buy a place! and if I did notSleep on the bench with the drowsiest of them,Play with my chain, look on my watch, and wearA state beard, with my barber's help, rank with themIn their most choice peculiar gifts, degrade me,And put me to drink water again, which, nowI have tasted wine, were poison!
Mar.'Tis spoke nobly,And like a gownman: none of these, I think too,But would prove good burghers.
Grac.Hum! the fools are modest;I know their insides: here's an ill-faced fellow,(But that will not be seen in a dark shop;)If he did not in a month learn to outswear,In the selling of his wares, the cunning'st tradesmanIn Syracuse, I have no skill. Here's another;Observe but what a cozening look he has!—Hold up thy head, man! If, for drawing gallantsInto mortgages for commodities[114], cheating heirsWith your new counterfeit gold thread, and gumm'd velvets,He does not transcend all that went before him,Call in his patent.
Mar.Is 't not pity, then,Men of such eminent virtues should be slaves?
Cimb.Our fortune.
Mar.'Tis your folly: daring menCommand and make their fates. Say, at this instant,I mark'd you out a way to liberty;Possess'd you of those blessings our proud lordsSo long have surfeited in; and, what is sweetest,Arm you with power, by strong hand to revengeYour stripes, your unregarded toil, the pride,The insolence, of such as tread uponYour patient sufferings; fill your famish'd mouthsWith the fat and plenty of the land; redeem youFrom the dark vale of servitude, and seat youUpon a hill of happiness; what would you doTo purchase this, and more?
Grac.Do! any thing:To burn a church or two, and dance by the light on 't,Were but a May-game.
Poliph.I have a father living;But if the cutting of his throat could work this,He should excuse me.
Cimb.'Slight! I would cut mine own,Rather than miss it; so I might but haveA taste on 't ere I die.
Mar.Be resolute men;You shall run no such hazard, nor groan underThe burden of such crying sins.
Poliph.Do not torment usWith expectation.
Mar.Thus, then:—Our proud masters,And all the able freemen of the city,Are gone unto the wars——
Poliph.Observe but that.
Mar.Old men, and such as can make no resistance,Are only left at home——
Grac.And the proud young fool,My master—if this take, I'll hamper him.
Mar.Their arsenal, their treasure, 's in our power,If we have hearts to seize them. If our lords fallIn the present action, the whole country's ours:Say they return victorious, we have meansTo keep the town against them; at the worst,To make our own conditions. If you dare break upTheir iron chests, banquet in their rich halls,And carve yourselves of all delights and pleasuresYou have been barr'd from, with one voice cry with me,Liberty! liberty!
All.Liberty! liberty!
Mar.Go, then, and take possession: use all freedom;But shed no blood. [Exeunt Slaves.]—So, this is well begun;But not to be commended till 't be done.[Exit.
The same. A Gallery inArchidamus's House.
EnterMarulloandTimandra.
Mar.Why, think you that I plot against myself[115]?Fear nothing, you are safe: these thick-skinn'd slaves,I use as instruments to serve my ends,Pierce not my deep designs; nor shall they dareTo lift an arm against you.
Timand.With your will.But turbulent spirits, raised beyond themselvesWith ease, are not so soon laid; they oft proveDangerous to him that call'd them up.
Mar.'Tis true,In what is rashly undertook. Long sinceI have consider'd seriously their natures,Proceeded with mature advice, and knowI hold their will and faculties in more aweThan I can do my own. Now, for their licence,And riot in the city, I can makeA just defence and use: it may appear, too,A politic prevention of such illsAs might, with greater violence and danger,Hereafter be attempted; though some smart for 't,It matters not:—however, I'm resolved;And sleep you with security. Holds CleoraConstant to her rash vow?
Timand.Beyond belief;To me, that see her hourly, it seems a fable.By signs I guess at her commands, and serve themWith silence; such her pleasure is, made knownBy holding her fair hand thus. She eats little,Sleeps less, as I imagine; once a dayI lead her to this gallery, where she walksSome half a dozen turns, and, having offer'dTo her absent saint a sacrifice of sighs,She points back to her prison.
Mar.Guide her hither,And make her understand the slaves' revolt;And, with your utmost eloquence, enlargeTheir insolence, and wrongs done in the city.Forget not, too, I am their chief, and tell herYou strongly think my extreme dotage on her,As I'm Marullo, caused this sudden uproar,To gain possession of her.
Timand.PunctuallyI will discharge my part.[Exit.
EnterPoliphron.
Poliph.O, sir, I sought you:There's such variety of all disordersAmong the slaves; answer'd with crying, howling,By the citizens and their wives; such a confusion,In a word, not to tire you, as I thinkThe like was never read of.
Mar.This is someRevenge for my disgrace.
Poliph.But, sir, I fear,If your authority restrain them not,They'll fire the city, or kill one another,They are so apt to outrage; neither know IWhether you wish it, and came therefore toAcquaint you with so much.
Mar.I will among them;But must not long be absent.
Poliph.At your pleasure.[Exeunt.
The same. A Room in the same.
Shouts within. EnterCleoraandTimandra.
Timand.They are at our gates: my heart! affrights and horrorsIncrease each minute. No way left to save us,No flattering hope to comfort us, or means,But miracle, to redeem us from base wrongsAnd lawless rapine! Are there gods, yet sufferSuch innocent sweetness to be made the spoilOf brutish violence? And, of these rebel slaves,He that should offer up his life to guard you,Marullo, cursed Marullo, your own bondman,Purchased to serve you, and fed by your favours—Nay, start not: it is he; he, the grand captainOf these libidinous beasts, that have not leftOne cruel act undone that barbarous conquestYet ever practised in a captive city;He, doting on your beauty, and to have fellowsIn his foul sin, hath raised these mutinous slaves.Wring not your hands, 'tis bootless; use the meansThat may preserve you. 'Tis no crime to breakA vow when you are forced to it; show your face,And with the majesty of commanding beautyStrike dead his loose affections: if that fail,Give liberty to your tongue, and use entreaties:There cannot be a breast of flesh and blood,Or heart so made of flint, but must receiveImpression from your words; or eyes so stern,But, from the clear reflection of your tears,Must melt, and bear them company. Will you notDo these good offices to yourself? poor I, then,Can only weep your fortune.—Here he comes.
EnterMarullo,speaking at the door.
Mar.He that advancesA foot beyond this comes upon my sword:You have had your ways, disturb not mine.
Timand.Speak gently;Her fears may kill her else.
Mar.Now Love inspire me!Still shall this canopy of envious nightObscure my suns of comfort? and those daintiesOf purest white and red, which I take in atMy greedy eyes, denied my famish'd senses?—The organs of your hearing yet are open;And you infringe no vow, though you vouchsafeTo give them warrant to convey untoYour understanding parts the story ofA tortured and despairing lover, whomNot fortune but affection marks your slave:—Shake not, best lady! for, believe 't, you areAs far from danger as I am from force:All violence I shall offer tends no furtherThan to relate my sufferings, which I dare notPresume to do, till, by some gracious sign,You show you are pleased to hear me.
Timand.If you are,Hold forth your right hand.[Cleoraholds forth her right hand.
Mar.So, 'tis done; and IWith my glad lips seal humbly on your robeMy soul's thanks for the favour: I forbearTo tell you who I am, what wealth, what honoursI made exchange of, to become your servant:And though I knew worthy Leosthenes(For sure he must be worthy, for whose loveYou have endured so much) to be my rival,When rage and jealousy counsell'd me to kill him,Which then I could have done with much more ease,Than now, in fear to grieve you, I dare speak it,Love, seconded with duty, boldly told meThe man I hated, fair Cleora favour'd;And that was his protection.[Cleorabows.
Timand.See, she bowsHer head in sign of thankfulness.
Mar.He removed byThe occasion of the war, (my fires increasingBy being closed and stopp'd up,) frantic affectionPrompted me to do something in his absenceThat might deliver you into my power,Which you see is effected: and even now,When my rebellious passions chide my dulness,And tell me how much I abuse my fortunes,Now it is in my power to bear you hence,[Cleorastarts.(Nay, fear not, madam; true love is a servant,But brutish lust a tyrant,) only thus muchBe pleased I may speak in my own dear cause;And think it worthy your consideration,(I have loved truly, cannot say deserved,Since duty must not take the name of merit,)That I so far prize your content, beforeAll blessings that my hope can fashion to me,That willingly I entertain despair,And, for your sake, embrace it; for I know,This opportunity lost, by no endeavourThe like can be recover'd. To conclude,Forget not that I lose myself to save you:For what can I expect but death and torture,The war being ended? and, what is a taskWould trouble Hercules to undertake,I do deny you to myself, to give you,A pure unspotted present, to my rival.I have said: if it distaste not, best of virgins!Reward my temperance with some lawful favour,Though you contemn my person.[Cleorakneels, then pulls off her glove, and offers her hand toMarullo.
Timand.See, she kneels,And seems to call upon the gods to payThe debt she owes your virtue: to perform which,As a sure pledge of friendship, she vouchsafes youHer fair right hand.
Mar.I am paid for all my sufferings.Now, when you please, pass to your private chamber:My love and duty, faithful guards, shall keep youFrom all disturbance; and when you are satedWith thinking of Leosthenes, as a feeDue to my service, spare one sigh for me.[Exeunt.Cleoramakes a low courtesy as she goes off.
The same. A Room inCleon's House.
EnterGracculo,leadingAsotusin an ape's habit, with a chain about his neck;ZanthiainCorisca's clothes, she bearing up her train.
Grac.Come on, sir.
Asot.Oh!
Grac.Do you grumble? you were everA brainless ass; but if this hold, I'll teach youTo come aloft and do tricks like an ape.Your morning's lesson: if you miss——
Asot.O no, sir.
Grac.What for the Carthaginians? [Asotusmakes moppes[116].] A good beast.What for ourself, your lord[117]? [Dances.] Exceeding well.There's your reward. [Gives him an apple.]—Not kiss your paw! So, so, so.
Zant.Was ever lady, the first day of her honour,So waited on by a wrinkled crone? She looks now,Without her painting, curling, and perfumes,Like the last day of January. Further off!So—stand there like an image; if you stir,Till, with a quarter of a look, I call you,You know what follows.
Coris.O, what am I fallen to!But 'tis a punishment for my cruel pride,Justly return'd upon me.
Grac.How dost thou likeThy ladyship, Zanthia?
Zant.Very well; and bear itWith as much state as your lordship.
Grac.Give me thy hand:Let us, like conquering Romans, walk in triumph[118],Our captives following; then mount our tribunals,And make the slaves our footstools.
Zant.Fine, by Jove!Are your hands clean, minion?
Coris.Yes, forsooth.
Zant.Fall off then. She and I have changed our parts;She does what she forced me to do in her reign,And I must practise it in mine.
Grac.'Tis justice:O! here come more.
EnterCimbrio, Cleon, Poliphron,andOlympia.
Cimb.Discover to a drachma,Or I will famish thee.
Cleon.O! I am pined already.
Poliph.Spare the old jade, he's founder'd.
Grac.Cut his throat then,And hang him out for a scarecrow.
Poliph.You have all your wishesIn your revenge, and I have mine. You seeI use no tyranny: once I was her slave,And in requital of her courtesies,Having made one another free, we are married:And, if you wish us joy, join with us inA dance at our wedding.
Grac.Agreed; for I have thought ofA most triumphant one, which shall expressWe are lords, and these our slaves.
Poliph.But we shall wantA woman.
Grac.No, here's Jane-of-apes shall serve[119];Carry your body swimming.—Where's the music?
Poliph.I have placed it in yon window.
Grac.Begin then sprightly.[Music, and then a dance.
EnterMarullobehind.
Poliph.Well done on all sides! I have prepared a banquet;Let's drink and cool us.
Grac.A good motion.
Cimb.Wait here;You have been tired with feasting, learn to fast now.
Grac.I'll have an apple for jack, and may be some scrapsMay fall to your share.[ExeuntGrac. Zant. Cimb. Poliph.andOlymp.
Coris.Whom can we accuseBut ourselves, for what we suffer? Thou art just,Thou all-creating Power! and miseryInstructs me now, that yesterday acknowledgedNo deity beyond my pride and pleasure,There is a heaven above us, that looks downWith the eyes of justice, upon such as numberThose blessings freely given, in the accomptOf their poor merits: else it could not be,Now miserable I, to please whose palateThe elements were ransack'd, yet complain'dOf nature, as not liberal enoughIn her provision of raritiesTo soothe my taste, and pamper my proud flesh,Should wish in vain for bread.
Cleon.Yes, I do wish too,For what I fed my dogs with.
Coris.I, that forgotI was made of flesh and blood, and thought the silkSpun by the diligent worm out of their entrails,Too coarse to clothe me, and the softest downToo hard to sleep on; that disdain'd to lookOn virtue being in rags, that from my servantsExpected adoration, am made justlyThe scorn of my own bondwoman.
Cleon.I know I cannotLast long, that's all my comfort.
Mar.What a true mirrorWere this sad spectacle for secure greatness!Here they, that never see themselves, but inThe glass of servile flattery, might beholdThe weak foundation upon which they buildTheir trust in human frailty. Happy are those,That knowing, in their births, they are subject toUncertain change, are still prepared, and arm'dFor either fortune: a rare principle,And, with much labour, learn'd in wisdom's school!For, as these bondmen, by their actions, showThat their prosperity, like too large a sailFor their small bark of judgment, sinks them withA fore-right gale of liberty, ere they reachThe port they long to touch at: so these wretches,Swollen with the false opinion of their worth,And proud of blessings left them, not acquired;That did believe they could with giant armsFathom the earth, and were above their fates,Those borrow'd helps, that did support them, vanish'd,Fall of themselves, and by unmanly sufferingBetray their proper weakness, and make knownTheir boasted greatness was lent, not their own.
Cleon.O for some meat! they sit long.
Coris.We forgot,When we drew out intemperate feasts till midnight;Their hunger was not thought on, nor their watchings;Nor did we hold ourselves served to the height,But when we did exact and force their dutiesBeyond their strength and power.
Asot.We pay for 't now:
Re-enterPoliphron, Cimbrio, Gracculo, Zanthia,andOlympia,drunk and quarrelling.
Cimb.Do not hold me:Not kiss the bride!
Poliph.No, sir.
Mar.[coming forward] Hold!
Zant.Here's Marullo.
Olymp.He's your chief.
Mar.Take heed; I've news will cool this heat, and make youRemember what you were.
Cimb.How!
Mar.Send off these,And then I'll tell you.[ExeuntCleon, Asot. Zant. Olymp.andCoris.
Cimb.What would you impart?
Mar.What must invite youTo stand upon your guard, and leave your feasting;Our masters are victorious.
All.How!
Mar.WithinA day's march of the city, flesh'd with spoil,And proud of conquest; the armado sunk,The Carthaginian admiral, hand to hand,Slain by Leosthenes.
Cimb.I feel the whipUpon my back already.
Grac.Every manSeek a convenient tree, and hang himself.
Poliph.Better die once, than live an age to sufferNew tortures every hour.
Cimb.Say, we submit,And yield us to their mercy?—
Mar.Can you flatterYourselves with such false hopes? Or dare you thinkThat your imperious lords, that never fail'dTo punish with severity petty slipsIn your neglect of labour, may be wonTo pardon those licentious outragesWhich noble enemies forbear to practiseUpon the conquer'd? We have gone too farTo think now of retiring; in our courage,And daring, lies our safety: if you are notSlaves in your abject minds, as in your fortunes,Since to die is the worst, better exposeOur naked breasts to their keen swords, and sellOur lives with the most advantage, than to trustIn a forestall'd remission, or yield upOur bodies to the furnace of their fury,Thrice heated with revenge.
Grac.You led us on.
Cimb.And 'tis but justice you should bring us off.
Grac.And we expect it.
Mar.Hear then, and obey me;And I will either save you, or fall with you.Man the walls strongly, and make good the ports;Boldly deny their entrance, and rip upYour grievances, and what compell'd you toThis desperate course: if they disdain to hearOf composition, we have in our powersTheir aged fathers, children, and their wives,Who, to preserve themselves, must willinglyMake intercession for us. 'Tis not time nowTo talk, but do: a glorious end, or freedom,Is now proposed us; stand resolved for either,And, like good fellows, live or die together.[Exeunt.
The Country near Syracuse. The Camp ofTimoleon.
EnterLeosthenesandTimagoras.
Timag.I am so far from envy, I am proudYou have outstripp'd me in the race of honour.O 'twas a glorious day, and bravely won!Your bold performance gave such lustre toTimoleon's wise directions, as the armyRests doubtful, to whom they stand most engagedFor their so great success.
Leost.The gods first honour'd,The glory be the general's; 'tis far from meTo be his rival.
Timag.You abuse your fortune,To entertain her choice and gracious favoursWith a contracted brow; plumed VictoryIs truly painted with a cheerful look,Equally distant from proud insolence,And base dejection.
Leost.O Timagoras,You only are acquainted with the causeThat loads my sad heart with a hill of lead;Whose ponderous weight, neither my new-got honour,Assisted by the general applauseThe soldier crowns it with, nor all war's glories,Can lessen or remove: and, would you please,With fit consideration, to rememberHow much I wrong'd Cleora's innocenceWith my rash doubts; and what a grievous penanceShe did impose upon her tender sweetness,To pluck away the vulture, jealousy,That fed upon my liver; you cannot blame me,But call it a fit justice on myself,Though I resolve to be a stranger toThe thought of mirth or pleasure.
Timag.You have redeem'dThe forfeit of your fault with such a ransomOf honourable action, as my sisterMust of necessity confess her sufferings,Weigh'd down by your fair merits; and, when she views you,Like a triumphant conqueror, carried throughThe streets of Syracusa, the glad peoplePressing to meet you, and the senatorsContending who shall heap most honours on you;The oxen, crown'd with garlands, led before you,Appointed for the sacrifice; and the altarsSmoking with thankful incense to the gods:The soldiers chanting loud hymns to your praise,The windows fill'd with matrons and with virgins,Throwing upon your head, as you pass by,The choicest flowers, and silently invokingThe queen of love, with their particular vows,To be thought worthy of you; can Cleora(Though, in the glass of self-love, she beholdHer best deserts) but with all joy acknowledgeWhat she endured was but a noble trialYou made of her affection? and her anger,Rising from your too amorous cares, soon drench'dIn Lethe, and forgotten.
Leost.If those gloriesYou so set forth were mine, they might plead for me;But I can lay no claim to the least honourWhich you, with foul injustice, ravish from her.Her beauty in me wrought a miracle,Taught me to aim at things beyond my power,Which her perfections purchased, and gave to meFrom her free bounties; she inspired me withThat valour which I dare not call mine own;And, from the fair reflection of her mind,My soul received the sparkling beams of courage.She, from the magazine of her proper goodness,Stock'd me with virtuous purposes; sent me forthTo trade for honour; and, she being the ownerOf the bark of my adventures, I must yield herA just account of all, as fits a factor.And, howsoever others think me happy,And cry aloud, I have made a prosperous voyage;One frown of her dislike at my return,Which, as a punishment for my fault, I look for,Strikes dead all comfort.
Timag.Tush! these fears are needless;She cannot, must not, shall not, be so cruel.A free confession of a fault wins pardon,But, being seconded by desert, commands it.The general is your own, and, sure, my fatherRepents his harshness; for myself, I amEver your creature.—One day shall be happyIn your triumph, and your marriage.
Leost.May it prove so,With her consent and pardon.
Timag.Ever touchingOn that harsh string! She is your own, and youWithout disturbance seize on what's your due.[Exeunt.
Syracuse. A Room inArchidamus's House.
EnterMarulloandTimandra.
Mar.She has her health, then?
Timand.Yes, sir; and as oftenAs I speak of you, lends attentive earTo all that I deliver; nor seems tired,Though I dwell long on the relation ofYour sufferings for her, heaping praise on praiseOn the unequall'd temperance, and commandYou hold o'er your affections.
Mar.To my wish:Have you acquainted her with the defeature[120]Of the Carthaginians, and with what honoursLeosthenes comes crown'd home with?
Timand.With all care.
Mar.And how does she receive it?
Timand.As I guess,With a seeming kind of joy; but yet appears notTransported, or proud of his happy fortune.But when I tell her of the certain ruinYou must encounter with at their arrivalIn Syracusa, and that death, with torments,Must fall upon you, which you yet repent not,Esteeming it a glorious martyrdom,And a reward of pure unspotted love,Preserved in the white robe of innocence,Though she were in your power; and, still spurr'd onBy powerful love, you rather chose to sufferThe fury of your lord, than that she shouldBe grieved or tainted in her reputation——
Mar.Pities she my misfortune?
Timand.She express'dAll signs of sorrow which, her vow observed,Could witness a grieved heart. At the first hearing,She fell upon her face, rent her fair hair,Her hands held up to heaven, and vented sighs,In which she silently seem'd to complainOf heaven's injustice.
Mar.'Tis enough: wait carefully,And, on all watch'd occasions, continueSpeech and discourse of me: 'tis time must work her.
Timand.I'll not be wanting, but still strive to serve you.[Exit.
EnterPoliphron.
Mar.Now, Poliphron, the news?
Poliph.The conquering armyIs within ken.
Mar.How brook the slaves the object?
Poliph.Cheerfully yet; they do refuse no labour,And seem to scoff at danger; 'tis your presenceThat must confirm them: with a full consentYou are chosen to relate the tyrannyOf our proud masters; and what you subscribe to,They gladly will allow of, or hold outTo the last man.
Mar.I'll instantly among them.If we prove constant to ourselves, good fortuneWill not, I hope, forsake us.
Poliph.'Tis our best refuge.[Exeunt.
Before the Walls of Syracuse.
EnterTimoleon, Archidamus, Diphilus, Leosthenes, Timagoras,and Soldiers.
Timol.Thus far we are return'd victorious; crown'dWith wreaths triumphant, (famine, blood, and death,Banish'd your peaceful confines,) and bring homeSecurity and peace. 'Tis therefore fitThat such as boldly stood the shock of war,And with the dear expense of sweat and bloodHave purchased honour, should with pleasure reapThe harvest of their toil: and we stand bound,Out of the first file of the best deservers,(Though all must be consider'd to their merits,)To think of you, Leosthenes, that stand,And worthily, most dear in our esteem,For your heroic valour.
Archid.When I look onThe labour of so many men and ages,This well-built city, not long since design'dTo spoil and rapine, by the favour ofThe gods, and you, their ministers, preserved,I cannot, in my height of joy, but offerThese tears for a glad sacrifice.
Diph.Sleep the citizens?Or are they overwhelm'd with the excessOf comfort that flows to them?
Leost.We receiveA silent entertainment.
Timag.I long sinceExpected that the virgins and the matrons,The old men striving with their age, the priests,Carrying the images of their gods before them,Should have met us with procession.—Ha! the gatesAre shut against us!
Archid.And, upon the walls,Arm'd men seem to defy us!
Enter above, on the Walls,Marullo,Poliphron,Cimbrio,Gracculo,and other Slaves.
Diph.I should knowThese faces: they are our slaves.
Timag.The mystery, rascals!Open the ports, and play not with an angerThat will consume you.
Timol.This is above wonder.
Archid.Our bondmen stand against us!
Grac.Some such thingsWe were in man's remembrance. The slaves are turn'dLords of the town, or so—nay, be not angry:Perhaps, upon good terms, giving securityYou will be quiet men, we may allow youSome lodgings in our garrets or outhouses:Your great looks cannot carry it.
Cimb.The truth is,We have been bold to rifle your rich chests,Been busy with your wardrobes.
Timag.Can we endure this?
Leost.O my Cleora!
Grac.A caudle for the gentleman;He'll die o' the pip else.
Timag.Scorn'd too! are you turn'd stone?Hold parley with our bondmen! force our entrance,Then, villains, expect——
Timol.Hold! You wear men's shapes,And if, like men, you have reason, show a causeThat leads you to this desperate course, which must endIn your destruction.
Grac.That, as please the Fates;But we vouchsafe——Speak, captain.
Timag.Hell and furies!
Archid.Bay'd by our own curs!
Cimb.Take heed you be not worried.
Poliph.We are sharp set.
Cimb.And sudden.
Mar.Briefly thus, then,Since I must speak for all—Your tyrannyDrew us from our obedience. Happy those timesWhen lords were styled fathers of families,And not imperious masters! when they number'dTheir servants almost equal with their sons,Or one degree beneath them! when their laboursWere cherish'd and rewarded, and a periodSet to their sufferings; when they did not pressTheir duties or their wills, beyond the powerAnd strength of their performance! all things order'dWith such decorum, as[121]wise lawmakers,From each well-govern'd private house derivedThe perfect model of a commonwealth.Humanity then lodged in the hearts of men,And thankful masters carefully providedFor creatures wanting reason. The noble horse,That, in his fiery youth, from his wide nostrilsNeigh'd courage to his rider, and brake throughGroves of opposed pikes, bearing his lordSafe to triumphant victory; old or wounded,Was set at liberty, and freed from service.The Athenian mules, that from the quarry drewMarble, hew'd for the temples of the gods,The great work ended, were dismiss'd, and fedAt the public cost; nay, faithful dogs have foundTheir sepulchres; but man, to man more cruel,Appoints no end to the sufferings of his slave;Since pride stepp'd in and riot, and o'erturn'dThis goodly frame of concord, teaching mastersTo glory in the abuse of such as areBrought under their command; who, grown unuseful,Are less esteem'd than beasts.—This you have practised,Practised on us with rigour; this hath forced usTo shake our heavy yokes off; and, if redressOf these just grievances be not granted us,We'll right ourselves, and by strong hand defendWhat we are now possess'd of.
Grac.And not leaveOne house unfired.
Cimb.Or throat uncut of thoseWe have in our power.
Poliph.Nor will we fall alone;You shall buy us dearly.
Timag.O the gods!Unheard-of insolence!
Timol.What are your demands?
Mar.A general pardon[122]first, for all offencesCommitted in your absence. LibertyTo all such as desire to make returnInto their countries; and, to those that stay,A competence of land freely allottedTo each man's proper use, no lord acknowledged:Lastly, with your consent, to choose them wivesOut of your families.
Timag.Let the city sink first.
Leost.And ruin seize on all, ere we subscribeTo such conditions.
Archid.Carthage, though victorious,Could not have forced more from us.
Leost.Scale the walls;Capitulate after.
Timol.He that wins the top firstShall wear a mural wreath.[Exeunt.
Mar.Each to his place.[Flourish and alarms.Or death or victory! Charge them home, and fear not.[ExeuntMarulloand Slaves.
Re-enterTimoleon, Archidamus,and Senators.
Timol.We wrong ourselves, and we are justly punish'd,To deal with bondmen, as if we encounter'dAn equal enemy.
Archid.They fight like devils;And run upon our swords, as if their breastsWere proof beyond their armour.
Re-enterLeosthenesandTimagoras.
Timag.Make a firm stand.The slaves, not satisfied they have beat us off,Prepare to sally forth.
Timol.They are wild beasts,And to be tamed by policy. Each man takeA tough whip in his hand, such as you usedTo punish them with, as masters: in your looksCarry severity and awe: 'twill fright themMore than your weapons. Savage lions fly fromThe sight of fire; and these, that have forgotThat duty you ne'er taught them with your swords,When, unexpected, they behold those terrorsAdvanced aloft, that they were made to shake at,'Twill force them to remember what they are,And stoop to due obedience.
Archid.Here they come.
Enter from the City,Cimbrio,Gracculo,and other Slaves.
Cimb.Leave not a man alive; a wound's but a flea-biting,To what we suffer'd, being slaves.
Grac.O, my heart!Cimbrio, what do we see? the whip! our masters!
Timag.Dare you rebel, slaves![The Senators shake their whips, the Slaves throw away their weapons, and run off[123].
Cimb.Mercy! mercy! whereShall we hide us from their fury?
Grac.Fly, they follow.O, we shall be tormented!
Timol.Enter with them,But yet forbear to kill them: still rememberThey are part of your wealth; and being disarm'd,There is no danger.
Archid.Let us first deliverSuch as they have in fetters, and at leisureDetermine of their punishment.
Leost.Friend, to youI leave the disposition of what's mine:I cannot think I am safe without your sister,She is only worth my thought; and, till I seeWhat she has suffer'd, I am on the rack,And Furies my tormentors.[Exeunt.
Syracuse. A Room inArchidamus's House.
EnterMarulloandTimandra.
Mar.I know I am pursued; nor would I fly,Although the ports were open, and a convoyReady to bring me off: the baseness ofThese villains, from the pride of all my hopes,Hath thrown me to the bottomless abyssOf horror and despair: had they stood firm,I could have bought Cleora's free consentWith the safety of her father's life, and brother's;And forced Leosthenes to quit his claim,And kneel a suitor for me.
Timand.You must not thinkWhat might have been, but what must now be practised,And suddenly resolve.
Mar.All my poor fortunesAre at the stake, and I must run the hazard.Unseen, convey me to Cleora's chamber;For in her sight, if it were possible,I would be apprehended: do not inquireThe reason why, but help me.[Knocking within.
Timand.Make haste,—one knocks.[ExitMarullo.Jove turn all to the best!
EnterLeosthenes.
You are welcome, sir.
Leost.Thou giv'st it in a heavy tone.
Timand.Alas! sir,We have so long fed on the bread of sorrow,Drinking the bitter water of afflictions,Made loathsome too by our continued fears,Comfort 's a stranger to us.
Leost.Fears! your sufferings:—[124]For which I am so overgone with grief,I dare not ask, without compassionate tears,The villain's name that robb'd thee of thy honour:For being train'd up in chastity's cold school,And taught by such a mistress as Cleora,'Twere impious in me to think TimandraFell with her own consent.
Timand.How mean you, fell, sir?I understand you not.
Leost.I would thou didst not,Or that I could not read upon thy face,In blushing characters, the story ofLibidinous rape: confess it, for you stand notAccountable for a sin, against whose strengthYour o'ermatch'd innocence could make no resistance;Under which odds, I know, Cleora fell too,Heaven's help in vain invoked; the amazed sunHiding his face behind a mask of clouds,Nor daring to look on it! In her sufferingsAll sorrow's comprehended: what Timandra,Or the city, has endured, her loss consider'd,Deserves not to be named.
Timand.Pray you, do not bring, sir,In the chimeras of your jealous fears,New monsters to affright us.
Leost.O, Timandra,That I had faith enough but to believe thee!I should receive it with a joy beyondAssurance of Elysian shades hereafter,Or all the blessings, in this life, a motherCould wish her children crown'd with—but I must notCredit impossibilities; yet I striveTo find out that whose knowledge is a curse,And ignorance a blessing. Come, discoverWhat kind of look he had that forced thy lady,(Thy ravisher I will inquire at leisure),That when, hereafter, I behold a strangerBut near him in aspect, I may conclude,Though men and angels should proclaim him honest,He is a hell bred villain.
Timand.You are unworthyTo know she is preserved, preserved untainted:Sorrow, but ill bestow'd, hath only madeA rape upon her comforts in your absence.Come forth, dear madam.[Leads inCleora.
Leost.Ha![Kneels.
Timand.Nay, she deservesThe bending of your heart; that, to content you,Has kept a vow, the breach of which a Vestal,Though the infringing it had call'd upon herA living funeral,[125]must of force have shrunk at.No danger could compel her to dispense withHer cruel penance, though hot lust came arm'dTo seize upon her; when one look or accentMight have redeem'd her.
Leost.Might! O do not show meA beam of comfort, and straight take it from me.The means by which she was freed? speak, O speak quickly;Each minute of delay 's an age of torment;O speak, Timandra.
Timand.Free her from her oath;Herself can best deliver it.
Leost.O blest office![Unbinds her eyes.Never did galley-slave shake off his chains,Or look'd on his redemption from the oar,With such true feeling of delight, as nowI find myself possessed of.—Now I beholdTrue light indeed; for, since these fairest stars,Cover'd with clouds of your determinate will,Denied their influence to my optic sense,The splendour of the sun appear'd to meBut as some little glimpse of his bright beamsConvey'd into a dungeon, to remember[126]The dark inhabitants there, how much they wanted.Open these long-shut lips, and strike mine earsWith music more harmonious than the spheresYield in their heavenly motions: and if everA true submission for a crime acknowledgedMay find a gracious hearing, teach your tongue,In the first sweet articulate sounds it utters,To sign my wish'd-for pardon.
Cleo.I forgive you.
Leost.How greedily I receive this! Stay, best lady,And let me by degrees ascend the heightOf human happiness! all at once deliver'd,The torrent of my joys will overwhelm me:—So! now a little more; and pray excuse me,If, like a wanton epicure, I desireThe pleasant taste these cates of comfort yield me,Should not too soon be swallow'd. Have you not,By your unspotted truth I do conjure youTo answer truly, suffer'd in your honour,By force, I mean, for in your will I free you,Since I left Syracusa?
Cleo.I restoreThis kiss, so help me goodness! which I borrow'd,When I last saw you.
Leost.Miracle of virtue!One pause more, I beseech you: I am likeA man whose vital spirits consumed and wastedWith a long and tedious fever, unto whomToo much of a strong cordial, at once taken,Brings death, and not restores him. Yet I cannotFix here; but must inquire the man to whomI stand indebted for a benefit,Which to requite at full, though in this handI grasp all sceptres the world's empire bows to,Would leave me a poor bankrupt. Name him, lady;If of a mean estate, I'll gladly part withMy utmost fortunes to him; but if noble,In thankful duty study how to serve him;Or if of higher rank, erect him altars,And as a god adore him.
Cleo.If that goodness,And noble temperance, the queen of virtues,Bridling rebellious passions, to whose sway,Such as have conquer'd nations have lived slaves,Did ever wing great minds to fly to heaven,He, that preserved mine honour, may hope boldlyTo fill a seat among the gods, and shake offOur frail corruption.
Leost.Forward.
Cleo.Or if everThe Powers above did mask in human shapes,To teach mortality, not by cold preceptsForgot as soon as told, but by examples,To imitate their pureness, and draw nearTo their celestial natures, I believeHe's more than man.
Leost.You do describe a wonder.
Cleo.Which will increase, when you shall understandHe was a lover.
Leost.Not yours, lady?
Cleo.Yes;Loved me, Leosthenes; nay, more, so doted,(If e'er affections scorning gross desiresMay without wrong be styled so,) that he durst not,With an immodest syllable or look,In fear it might take from me, whom he madeThe object of his better part, discoverI was the saint he sued to.
Leost.A rare temper!
Cleo.I cannot speak it to the worth: all praiseI can bestow upon it will appearEnvious detraction. Not to rack you further,Yet make the miracle full, though, of all men,He hated you, Leosthenes, as his rival,So high yet he prized my content, that, knowingYou were a man I favour'd, he disdain'd not,Against himself, to serve you.
Leost.You conceal stillThe owner of these excellencies.
Cleo.'Tis Marullo,My father's bondman.
Leost.Ha, ha, ha!
Cleo.Why do you laugh?
Leost.To hear the labouring mountain of your praiseDeliver'd of a mouse.
Cleo.The man deserves notThis scorn, I can assure you.
Leost.Do you callWhat was his duty, merit?
Cleo.Yes, and place itAs high in my esteem, as all the honoursDescended from your ancestors, or the glory,Which you may call your own, got in this action,In which, I must confess, you have done nobly;And I could add, as I desired, but thatI fear 't would make you proud.
Leost.Why, lady, can youBe won to give allowance, that your slaveShould dare to love you?
Cleo.The immortal godsAccept the meanest altars, that are raisedBy pure devotions; and sometimes preferAn ounce of frankincense, honey, or milk,Before whole hecatombs, or Sabæan gums,Offer'd in ostentation.—Are you sickOf your old disease? I'll fit you.[Aside.
Leost.You seem moved.
Cleo.Zealous, I grant, in the defence of virtue.Why, good Leosthenes, though I enduredA penance for your sake, above example;I have not so far sold myself, I take it,To be at your devotion, but I mayCherish desert in others, where I find it.How would you tyrannize, if you stood possess'd ofThat which is only yours in expectation,That now prescribe such hard conditions to me?
Leost.One kiss, and I am silenced.
Cleo.I vouchsafe it;Yet, I must tell you 'tis a favour thatMarullo, when I was his, not mine own,Durst not presume to ask: no; when the cityBow'd humbly to licentious violence,And when I was, of men and gods forsaken,Deliver'd to his power, he did not press meTo grace him with one look or syllable,Or urged the dispensation of an oathMade for your satisfaction:—the poor wretch,Having related only his own sufferings,And kiss'd my hand, which I could not deny him,Defending me from others, never sinceSolicited my favours.
Leost.Pray you, end:The story does not please me.
Cleo.Well, take heedOf doubts and fears;—for know, Leosthenes,A greater injury cannot be offer'dTo innocent chastity, than unjust suspicion.I love Marullo's fair mind, not his person;Let that secure you. And I here command you,If I have any power in you, to standBetween him and all punishment, and opposeHis temperance to his folly: if you fail——No more; I will not threaten.[Exit.
Leost.What a bridgeOf glass I walk upon, over a riverOf certain ruin, mine own weighty fearsCracking what should support me! and those helps,Which confidence lends to others, are from meRavish'd by doubts, and wilful jealousy.[Exit.