Nor will I part with innocence, because
He is found guilty. For thyself, thou art
A thing, that, equal with the devil himself,
I do detest and scorn.

Fran. Thou, then, art nothing:

Thy life is in my power, disdainful woman!
Think on't, and tremble.

Mare. No, though thou wert now

To play thy hangman's part.-Thou well may'st be
My executioner, and art only fit

For such employment; but ne'er hope to have
The least grace from me. I will never see thee,
But as the shame of men: so, with my curses
Of horror to thy conscience in this life,
And pains in hell hereafter, I spit at thee;
And, making haste to make my peace with heaven,
Expect thee as my hangman.

But how I should begin, or in what language
Speak 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 me
With the heat of noble action to deserve you :
And the least spark of honour that took life
From your sweet breath, still fann'd by it and
Must mount up in a glorious flame, or I [cherish'd,
Am much unworthy.

Cleo. May it yet burn here,

And, as a seamark, serve to guide true lovers,
Toss'd on the ocean of luxurious wishes,
Safe from the rocks of lust, into the harbour
Of pure affection! rising up an example
Which aftertimes shall witness to our glory,
First took from us beginning.

Leost. Tis a happiness

My duty to my country, and mine honour,
Cannot 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 witty

To plead against myself; and mine eye, fix'd
Upon the hill of honour, ne'er descended
To 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 gain

A petty wreath myself, I rob you of

A certain triumph, which must fall upon you,
Or Virtue's turn'd a handmaid to blind Fortune.

How is my soul divided! to confirm you
In the opinion of the world, most worthy
To be beloved, (with me you're at the height,
And can advance no further,) I must send you
To court the goddess of stern war, who, if
She 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 that

I 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'd To fight against me.

Cleo. Where?

Leost. There's no perfection

That you are mistress of, but musters up
A legion against me, and all sworn
To my destruction.

Cleo. This is strange!

Leost. But true, sweet;

Excess of love can work such miracles !
Upon this ivory forehead are intrench'd
Ten thousand rivals, and these suns command
Supplies from all the world, on pain to forfeit
Their comfortable beams; these ruby lips,
A rich exchequer to assure their pay;
This hand, Sibylla's golden bough to guard them
Through hell, and horror, to the Elysian springs;
Which who'll not venture for? and, should I name
Such as the virtues of your mind invite,
Their numbers would be infinite.
Cleo. Can you think

I may be tempted?

Leost. You were never proved.

For me, I have conversed with you no further
Than would become a brother. I ne'er tuned
Loose notes to your chaste ears; or brought rich
For my artillery, to batter down
[presents
The fortress of your honour; nor endeavour'd
To make your blood run high at solemn feasts
With viands that provoke; the speeding philtres:
I work'd no bawds to tempt you; never practised
The cunning and corrupting arts they study,
That wander in the wild maze of desire;
Honest simplicity and truth were all
The agents I employ'd; and when I came
To see you, it was with that reverence
As I beheld the altars of the gods:

And Love, that came along with me, was taught
To leave his arrows and his torch behind,
Quench'd in my fear to give offence.

Cleo. And 'twas

That modesty that took me and preserves me, Like a fresh rose, in mine own natural sweetness; Which, sullied with the touch of impure heads, 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 assaults

Of loose temptations; when the memory
Of my so many years of love and service
Is lost in other objects; when you are courted
By such as keep a catalogue of their conquests,
Won upon credulous virgins; when nor father
Is here to owe you, brother to advise you.
Nor your poor servant by, to keep such off,
By lust instructed how to undermine,

And blow your chastity 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 I
The judge, before whom you then stood accused,
I should acquit you.

Cleo. Will you then confirm

That love and jealousy, though of different natures,
Must of necessity be twins; the younger
Created only to defeat the elder,

And spoil him of his birthright? 'tis not well.
But being to part, I will not chide, I will not;
Nor with one syllable or tear, express
How deeply I am wounded with the arrows
Of 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 starved
For want of seeming matter to accuse me ;
Expect, Leosthenes, a sharp reproof

From my just anger.

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 close
Mine eyes against thy comfortable light,
Till the return of this distrustful man!

Now bind them sure ;-nay, do't: [He binds her eyes.] If, uncompell'd,

I loose this knot, until the hands that made it
Be pleased to untie it, may consuming plagues
Fall heavy on me! pray you guide me to your lips.
This kiss, when you come back, shall be a virgin
To 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 spend My hours in silent mourning, and thus much Shall be reported of me to my glory, And you confess it, whether I live or die, My chastity triumphs o'er your jealousy.

PISANDER DECLARING HIS PASSION FOR CLEORA, IN THE INSURRECTION OF THE SLAVES OF SYRACUSE.

FROM THE SAME.

Enter PISANDER, speaking, at the door, to the
Insurgents.

Pisander. He that advances

A foot beyond this, comes upon my sword:
You have had your waye, disturb not mine.
Timandra. Speak gently,

Her fears may kill her else.

Pisan. Now Love inspire me !

Still shall this canopy of envious night
Obscure my suns of comfort? and those dainties
Of purest white and red, which I take in at
My greedy eyes, denied my famish'd senses ?-
The organs of your hearing yet are open ;
And you infringe no vow, though you vouchsafe
To give them warrant to convey unto
Your understanding parts, the story of
A tortured and despairing lover, whom
Not fortune but affection marks your slave:
Shake not, best lady! for believe't, you are
As far from danger as I am from force:
All violence I shall offer, tends no further
Than to relate my sufferings, which I dare not
Presume to do, till, by some gracious sign,
You show you are pleased to hear me.
Timand. If you are,

Hold forth your right hand.

[CLEORA holds forth her right hand.

Pisan. So 'tis done; and I
With my glad lips seal humbly on your foot,
My soul's thanks for the favour: I forbear
To tell you who I am, what wealth, what honours
I made exchange of, to become your servant :
And, though I knew worthy Leosthenes
(For sure he must be worthy, for whose love
You 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 me
The man I hated, fair Cleora favour'd:
And that was his protection.

Timand. See, she bows
Her head in sign of thankfulness.

Pisan. He removed by

[CLEORA bows,

The occasion of the war, (my fires increasing
By being closed and stopp'd up,) frantic affection
Prompted me to do something in his absence,
That 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,

[CLEORA starts.
Or take my wishes here, (nay, fear not, madam;
True love 's a servant, brutish lust a tyrant,)
I dare not touch those viands that ne'er taste well,
But when they're freely offer'd: only thus much,

Be 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, before
All 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 endeavour
The 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 task
Would 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.

[CLEORA kneels, then pulls of her glove, and

offers her hand to PISANDER.

Timand. See, she kneels ;

And seems to call upon the gods to pay

The debt she owes your virtue: to perform which, As a sure pledge of friendship, she vouchsafes you Her fair right hand.

Pisan. I am paid for all my sufferings. Now, when you please, pass to your private chamber; My love and duty, faithful guards, shall keep you From all disturbance; and when you are sated With thinking of Leosthenes, as a fee Due to my service, spare one sigh for me.

PISANDER HOLDING A PARLEY WITH THE CHIEFS OF SYRACUSE, AT THE HEAD OF THE INSURGENTS.

FROM THE SAME.

Pisan. BRIEFLY thus, then,

Since I must speak for all; your tyranny
Drew us from our obedience. Happy those times
When lords were styled fathers of families,
And not imperious masters! when they number'd
Their servants almost equal with their sons,
Or one degree beneath them! when their labours
Were cherish'd and rewarded, and a period
Set to their sufferings; when they did not press
Their duties or their wills beyond the power
And strength of their performance! all things order'd
With such decorum as wise lawmakers,
From each well-govern'd private house derived
The perfect model of a commonwealth.
Humanity then lodged in the hearts of inen,
And thankful masters carefully provided

For creatures wanting reason. The noble horse,
That, in his fiery youth, from his wide nostrils
Neigh'd courage to his rider, and brake through
Groves of opposed pikes, bearing his lord
Safe to triumphant victory; old or wounded,
Was set at liberty, and freed from service.
The Athenian mules, that from the quarry drew

Marble, hew'd for the temples of the gods,
The great work ended, were dismiss'd, and fed
At the public cost; nay, faithful dogs have found
Their 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'd
This goodly frame of concord, teaching masters
To glory in the abuse of such as are
[ful,
Brought under their command; who, grown unuse-
Are less esteem'd than beasts.-This you have
practised,

Practised on us with rigour; this hath forced us
To shake our heavy yokes off; and, if redress
Of these just grievances be not granted us,
We'll right ourselves, and by strong hand defend
What we are now possess'd of.

LEOSTHENES'S RETURN TO CLEORA.

FROM THE SAME.

Timandra (the attendant of Cleora). You are welcome, sir.

Leost. Thou givest it in a heavy tone.

Timand. Alas! sir,

We have so long fed on the bread of sorrow,
Made loathsome too by our continued fears,
Drinking the bitter water of afflictions,
Comfort's a stranger to us.

Leost. Fears! your sufferings :—

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 Timandra
Fell 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 of Libidinous rape: confess it, for you stand not Accountable for a sin, against whose strength Your o'ermatch'd innocence could make no resistUnder which odds, I know, Cleora fell too, [ance; Heaven's help in vain invoked; the amazed sun Hiding his face behind a mask of clouds, Not daring to look on it! In her sufferings All 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 beyond
Assurance of Elysian shades hereafter,
Or all the blessings, in this life, a mother
Could wish her children crown'd with ;-but I
Credit impossibilities; yet I strive [must not

To find out that whose knowledge is a curse,
And ignorance a blessing. Come, discover
What kind of look he had that forced thy lady,
(Thy ravisher I will inquire at leisure,)
That when, hereafter, I behold a stranger
But near him in aspéct, I may conclude,
Though men and angels should proclaim him honest,
He is a hell-bred villain.

Timand. You are unworthy

To know she is preserved, preserved untainted: Sorrow, but ill bestow'd, hath only made

A rape upon her comforts in your absence. Come forth, dear madam. [Leads in CLEORA, [Kneels.

Leost. Ha!

Timand. Nay, she deserves

The 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 her
A living funeral, must of force have shrunk at.
No danger could compel her to dispense with
Her cruel penance, though hot lust came arm'd
To seize upon her; when one look or accent
Might have redeem'd her.

Leost. Might! O do not show me

A 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.

Never did galley-slave shake off his chains,
Or look'd on his redemption from the oar,
With such true feeling of delight, as now
I find myself possess'd of.-Now I behold
True 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 me
But as some little glimpse of his bright beams
Convey'd into a dungeon, to remember
The dark inhabitants there how much they wanted.
Open these long-shut lips, and strike mine ears
With music more harmonious than the spheres
Yield in their heavenly motions; and if ever
A true submission for a crime acknowledged,
May 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 height
Of 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 desire

The 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 you
To answer truly, suffer'd in your honour,

By force, I mean, for in your will I free you, Since I left Syracusa ?

Cleo. I restore

This 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 like
A man whose vital spirits consumed and wasted
With a long and tedious fever, unto whom
Too much of a strong cordial, at once taken,
Brings death, and not restores him. Yet I cannot
Fix here; but must inquire the man to whom
I stand indebted for a benefit,

Which to requite at full, though in this hand
I 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 with
My 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. Zealous, I grant, in the defence of virtue. Why, good Leosthenes, though I endured A penance for your sake, above example;

I have not so far sold myself, I take it,

To be at your devotion, but I may
Cherish desert in others, where I find it.
How would you tyrannise, if you stood possess'd of
That 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 that
Marullo, when I was his, not mine own,
Durst not presume to ask: no; when the city
| Bow'd humbly to licentious rapes and lust,
And when I was of men and gods forsaken,
Deliver'd to his power, he did not press me
To grace him with one look or syllable,
Or urged the dispensation of an oath

Made for your satisfaction:-the poor wretch,
Having related only his own sufferings,

FROM THE BONDMAN.

ACT V. SCENE III.-The Court of Justice.

Enter TIMOLEON, ARCHIDAMUS, CLEORA, and Officers. Timol. "Tis wondrous strange! nor can it fall The reach of my belief, a slave should be [within The owner of a temperance which this age Can hardly parallel in freeborn lords, Or kings proud of their purple.

Archid. "Tis most true;

And though at first it did appear a fable,
All circumstances meet to give it credit;
Which works so on me, that I am compell'd
To be a suitor, not to be denied,
He may have equal hearing.

Cleo. Sir you graced me,

With the title of your mistress; but my fortune
Is so far distant from command, that I
Lay by the power you gave me, and plead humbly
For the preserver of my fame and honour.
And pray you, sir, in charity believe,
That since I had ability of speech,

My tongue has been so much inured to truth,
I know not how to lie.

Timol. I'll rather doubt

The oracles of the gods than question what
Your innocence delivers; and, as far
As justice and mine honour can give way,
He shall have favour. Bring him in unbound:
[Exeunt Officers.
And though Leosthenes may challenge from me,
For his late worthy service, credit to
All things he can allege in his own cause,
Marullo, so, I think, you call his name,
Shall find I do reserve one ear for him,
[Enter CLEON, ASOTUS, DIPHILUS, OLYMPIA, and CORISCA.
To let in mercy. Sit and take your places;
The right of this fair virgin first determined,
Your bondmen shall be censured.

Cleon. With all rigour,

We do expect.

Coris. Temper'd, I say, with mercy.

Enter at one door LEOSTHENES and TIMAGORAS; at the other, Officers with PISANDER and TIMANDRA. Timol. Your hand, Leosthenes: I cannot doubt,

Defending me from others, never since

Solicited my favours.

Leost. Pray you, end;

The story does not please me.

Cleo. Well, take heed

Of doubts and fears;-for know, Leosthenes,
A greater injury cannot be offer'd

To 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 stand
Between him and all punishment, and oppose
His temperance to his folly; if you fail-
No more; I will not threaten.

Should, in a combat fought with words, come off But with assured triumph.

Leost. My deserts, sir,

If, without arrogance, I may style them such,
Arm me from doubt and fear.

Timol. 'Tis nobly spoken.

Nor be thou daunted (howsoe'er thy fortune
Has mark'd thee out a slave) to speak thy merits:
For virtue, though in rags, may challenge more
Than vice set off with all the trim of greatness.

Pisan. I had rather fall under so just a judge,
Than be acquitted by a man corrupt
And partial in his censure.

Archid. Note his language;

N