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That has the strongest arm and sharpest sword,

SCENE I.-The Camp of Timoleon near Syra- | I'd court Bellona in her horrid trim,

cuse.

Enter TIMAGORAS and LEOSTHENES. Timag. Why should you droop, Leosthenes, or despair

My sister's favour? What, before, you purchased
By 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 spoken
That may assure me yours; and pray you, believe,
The dreadful voice of war, that shakes the city,
The thundering threats of Carthage, nor their
army,

Raised to make good those threats, affright not

me.

If fair Cleora were confirmed his prize,

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 averse
Your 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 wars
Of noble courage, his determinate will
May blast, and give my harvest to another,
That ne'er toiled for it.

Timag. Prithee, do not nourish
These jealous thoughts; I'm thine, and, pardon

me

Though I repeat it, that 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 stopped not
In the career of my affection to thee,
When that renowned worthy, that brought with
him

High birth, wealth, courage, as fee'd advocates
To mediate for him, never will consent,
A 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.
Enter PISANDER.

Pis. Sir, the general,

Timoleon, by his trumpets hath given warning For a remove.

Timag. 'Tis well; provide my horse.
Pis. I shall, sir.
[Exit PISANDER.
Leost. This slave has a strange aspect?
Timag. Fit for his fortune; 'tis a strong limbed
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, they are not borne
In triumph on mens' shoulders.

Leost. Who commands

The Carthaginian fleet?

Timag. Gisco's their admiral,

And, 'tis our happiness, a raw young fellow,

One never trained in arms, but rather fashioned
To tilt with ladies lips than crack a lance,
Ravish a feather from a mistress' fan,
And wear it as a favour. A steel helmet,
Made horrid with a glorious plume, will crack
His woman's neck.

Leo. No more of him.-The motives
That Corinth gives us aid?

Timag. The common danger:

For Sicily being on fire, she is not safe;
It being apparent that ambitious Carthage,
(That to enlarge her empire strives to fasten
An unjust gripe on us, that live free lords
Of Syracusa) will not end, till Greece
Acknowledge her their sovereign.
Leost. I'm satisfied.
What think you of our general?
Timag. He is a man

Of strange and reserved parts; but a great soldier.
[A Trumpet sounds.
His trumpets call us; I'll forbear his character:
To-morrow, in the senate-house, at large
He will express himself.

Leost. I'll follow you.

[Exeunt.

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You take no pity on me; I shall swoon
As soon as you are absent; ask my man else,
You know he dares not tell a lie.

Grac. Indeed,

You are no sooner out of sight, but she Does feel strange qualms; then sends for her young doctor,

Who ministers physic to her on her back,
Her ladyship lying as she were entranced:
(I've peep'd in at the key-hole, and observed
them :)

And sure his potions never fail to work,
For she's so pleasant in the taking them,
She tickles again.

Coris. And all's to make you merry
When you come home.

Cleon. You flatter me; I'm old,
And wisdom cries, Beware.
Coris. Old, duck! to me
You are a young Adonis.
Grac. Well said, Venus;

I am sure she Vulcan's him.

Coris. I will not change thee For twenty boisterous young things without beards.

These bristles give the gentlest titillations,
And such a sweet dew flows on them, it cures
My lips without pomatum. Here's a round belly!
'Tis a down pillow to my back; I sleep
So quietly by it: and this tunable nose,
Faith, when you hear it not, affords such music,
That I curse all night-fiddlers.

Grac. This is gross.
Not find she flouts him!

Coris. As I live, I'm jealous.
Cleon. Jealous of me, wife?
Coris. Yes; and I have reason;

Knowing how lusty and active a man you are.
Cleon. Hum, hum!

Grac. This is no cunning quean! 'slight, she

will make him

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Called for a caudle.

Grac. It was in his sleep;

For, waking, I durst trust my mother with him. Coris. I long to see the man of war: Cleora, Archidamus' daughter, goes, and rich Olympia; I will not miss the show.

Cleon. There's no contending:

For this time I am pleased, but I'll no more on't. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The Senate House.

Enter ARCHIDAMUS, CLEON, DIPHILUS, OLYMPIA, CORISCA, CLEORA, and ZANTHIA.

Arch. 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 lay
On Syracusa) hath vouchsafed to lend us
Her man of men, Timoleon, to defend
Our country and our liberties.
Diph. Tis a favour

We are unworthy of, and we may blush
Necessity compells us to receive it.

Arch. O shame! that we, that are a populous nation,

Engaged to liberal nature for all blessings
An island can bring forth; we that have limbs,
And able bodies, shipping, arms and treasure,
The sinews of the war, now we are called
To stand upon our guard, cannot produce
One, fit to be our general!

Cleon. I'm old and fat;

I could say something else.
Arch. We must obey

The time and our occasions; ruinous buildings,
Whose bases and foundations are infirm,
Must use supporters: We are circled round
With danger; o'er our heads with sail-stretched
wings

Destruction hovers, and a cloud of mischief
Ready to break upon us; no hope left us,
That may divert it, but our sleeping virtue,
Roused up by braye Timoleon.

Cleon. When arrives he?

Diph. He is expected every hour.
Arch. The braveries

Of Syracusa, among whom my son
Timagoras, Leosthenes, and Åsotus,

(Your hopeful heir, lord Cleon) two days since
Rode forth to meet him, and attend him to
The city; every minute we expect
To be blessed with his presence.

Cleon. What shout's this? [Shout at a distance.
Diph. 'Tis seconded with loud music.
[Trumpets flourish within.

Arch. Which confirms

His wished-for entrance. Let us entertain him
With all respect, solemnity, and pomp,

A man may merit, that comes to redeem us
From slavery and oppression.

Cleon. I'll lock up

My doors, and guard my gold; these lads of Co

rinth

Have nimble fingers, and I fear them more, Being within our walls, than those of Carthage; They are far off.

Arch. And, ladies, be it your care

To welcome him and his followers with all duty. For rest resolved, their hands and swords must keep you

In that full height of happiness you live:
A dreadful change else follows.

(Exeunt ARCH. CLEON, and DIPH.

Olym. We are instructed.

Coris. I'll kiss him for the honour of my country, With any she in Corinth.

Olymp. Were he a courtier,

I've sweetmeat in my closet shall content him, Be his palate ne'er so curious.

Coris. And, if need be,

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Coris. 'Troth, I like them the better:
I can't endure to have a perfumed sir
Stand cringing in the hams, licking his lips
Like a spaniel over a furmety-pot, and yet
Has not the boldness to come on, or offer
What they know we expect.

Olymp. We may commend

A gentleman's modesty, manners, and fine language,

His singing, dancing, riding of great horses,
The wearing of his clothes, his fair complexion;
Take presents from him, and extol his bounty:
Yet, though he observe, and waste his state up-

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Coris. Musing, Cleora?

Olymp. She's studying how to entertain these strangers,"

And to engross them to herself.

Cleo. No, surely;

I will not cheapen any of their wares,
Till you have made your market; you will buy,
I know, at any rate.

Coris. She has given it to you.

Olymp. No more, they come; the first kiss For this jewel.

Enter TIMAGORAS, LEOSTHENES, ASOTUS, TI-
MOLEON in black, led in by ARCHIDAMUS, DI-
PHILUS, and CLEON; followed by PISANDER,
GRACCULO, CIMBRIO, and other Slaves.
Arch. It is your seat,
Which with a general suffrage,
As to the supreme magistrate, Sicily tenders,
And prays Timoleon to accept.

Timol. Such honours,

To one ambitious of rules or title,

Whose heaven or earth is placed in his command,
And absolute power o'er others, would with joy,
And veins swoln high with pride be entertained.
They take not me; for I have ever loved
An equal freedom, and proclaim all such
As would usurp another's liberties,
Rebels to nature, to whose bounteous blessings
All men lay claim as true legitimate sons.
But such as have made forfeit of themselves
By vicious courses, and their birthright lost,

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Timol. 'Tis confessed: And, since you'll have it So, such as 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 threats Nor prayers shall prevail; for I must steer

An even course.

Arch. Which is desired of all.

Timol. Timophanes, my brother, for whose
death

I'm 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 detest
Tyrannous usurpation: with grief

I must remember it: For when no persuasion
Could win him to desist from his bad practice,
To change the aristocracy of Corinth
Into an absolute monarchy, I chose rather
To prove a pious and obedient son

To my country, my best mother, than to lend
Assistance to Timophanes, tho' my brother,
That, like a tyrant, strove to set his foot
Upon the city's freedom.
Timag. 'Twas a deed

Deserving rather trophies than reproof.

Leost. And will be still remembered to your honour,

If you forsake not us.

Diph. If you free Sicily

From barbarous Carthage yoke, it will be said In him you slew a tyrant.

Arch. But giving way

To her invasion, not vouchsafing us (That fly to your protection) aid and comfort, "Twill be believed, that for your private ends You killed a brother.

Timol. As I then proceed,

To all posterity may that act be crowned
With a deserved applause, or branded with
The mark of infamy-Stay yet; ere I take

This seat of justice, or engage myself
To fight for you abroad, or to reform
Your state at home, swear all upon my sword,
And call the gods of Sicily to witness
The oath you
take; that whatsoe'er I shall
Propound for safety of your commonwealth,
Not circumscribed or bound in, shall by you
Be willingly obeyed.

Arch. Diph. Cleon. So may we prosper,
As we obey in all things!

Timag. Leos. Aso. And observe

All 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. I offer'd myself twice, and yet the churl Would not salute me.

Coris. Let him kiss his drum!
I'll save my lips, I rest on it.
Olymp. He thinks women
No part of the republic.
Coris. He shall find
We 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, studied

The public good, but your particular ends;
Factious among yourselves, preferring such
To offices and honours, as ne'er read
The elements of saving policy;

But deeply skill'd in all the principles,
That usher to destruction.

Leost. Sharp.

Timag. The better.

Timol. Your senate-house, which used not to admit

A man, however popular, to stand

At the helm of government, whose youth was not
Made glorious by action; whose experience,
Crowned with grey hairs, gave warrant to his
counsels,

Heard and received with reverence; is now filled
With green heads, that determine of the state
Over their cups, or when their sated lusts
Afford them leisure; or supplied by those
Who, rising from base arts and sordid thrift,
Are eminent for their wealth, not for their wis-
dom :

Which is the reason that to hold a place
In council, which was once esteemed an he

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Olym. We thought we were forgot.
Cleora. But it appears
You will be treated of.

Timol. Yet in this plenty,

And fat of peace, your young men ne'er were trained

In martial discipline, and your ships unrigged
Rot in the harbour: no defence prepared,
But thought unuseful; as if that the gods,
Ladulgent to your sloth, had granted you
A perpetuity of pride and pleasure,

No change feared or expected. Now you find
That Carthage, looking on your stupid sleeps,
And dull security, was invited to
Invade your territories.

Arch. You've 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 festered sores

Must be lanced to the quick and cauterized:
Which borne with patience, after I'll apply
Soft unguents: For the maintenance of the war
It is decreed all monies in the hand

Of private men, shall instantly be brought
To the public treasury.

Timag. This bites sore.

Cleon. The cure

Is worse than the disease; I'll never yield to it: What could the enemy, though victorious, Inflict more on us? All that my youth had toiled for,

Purchased with industry, and preserved with care, Forced from me in a moment!

Diph. This rough course Will never be allowed of.

Timol. O blind men!

If you refuse the first means that is offered
To give you health, no hope's left to recover
Your desperate sickness. Do you prize your
muck

Above your liberties; and rather choose
To be made bondmen, than to part with that
To which already you are slaves? Or can it
Be probable in your flattering apprehensions,
You can capitulate with the conqueror,
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 preserve
The prey entire, and merit the report
Of careful stewards: Yield a just account
To 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 walls
With Persian hangings wrought of gold and pearl;
Cover the floors on which they are to tread,
With costly Median silks; perfume the rooms
With cassia and amber, where they are
To feast and revel, while, like servile grooms,
You wait upon their trenchers; feed their eyes
With massy plate, until your cupboards crack
With the weight that they sustain; set forth
your wives

And daughters in as many varied shapes
As there are nations, to provoke their lusts,
And let them be embraced before your eyes,
The object may content you; and, to perfect
Their entertainment, offer up your sons,
And able men, for slaves; while you, that are
Unfit for labour, are spurned out to starve,
Unpitied, in some desert, no friend by,
Whose sorrow may spare one compassionate tear,
In 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 what
He was to suffer.

Cor. I am sick; the man Speaks poniards and diseases. Olymp. Oh! my doctor!

I never shall recover.

Cleora. If a virgin,

[Coming forward.
Whose speech was ever yet ushered with fear;
One knowing modesty and humble silence
To be the choicest ornaments of our sex,
In the presence of so many reverend men,
Struck 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 prayers
Winged with pure innocence bearing them to
heaven,

For all prosperity that the gods can give
To 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 spring
Sweet rivers ever flow.

Cleora. Then thus to you,

My noble father, and these lords, to whom
I next owe duty; no respect forgotten
To you, my brother, and these bold young men
(Such I would have them) that are, or should be,
The city's sword and target of defence;
To all of you I speak; and if a blush
Steal on my cheeks, it is shown to reprove
Your paleness (willingly I would not say
Your cowardice or fear). Think you all treasure
Hid in the bowels of the earth, or shipwrecked
In Neptune's watry 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 is
Too dear a salary for such as hazard
Their blood and lives in your defence? For me,
An ignorant girl, bear witness, heaven! so far

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