SCENE III.

_Syracuse. A Room in_ ARCHIDAMUS'_s House_.

_Enter_ MARULLO _and_ TIMANDRA.

_Mar._ I know I am pursued; nor would I fly, Although the ports were open, and a convoy Ready to bring me off: the baseness of These villains, from the pride of all my hopes, Hath thrown me to the bottomless abyss Of horror and despair: had they stood firm, I could have bought Cleora's free consent With 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 think What might have been, but what must now be practised, And suddenly resolve.

_Mar._ All my poor fortunes Are 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 inquire The reason why, but help me. [_Knocking within._

_Timand._ Make haste,--one knocks. [_Exit_ MARULLO. Jove turn all to the best!

_Enter_ LEOSTHENES.

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 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 resistance; Under which odds, I know, Cleora fell too, Heaven's help in vain invoked; the amazed sun Hiding his face behind a mask of clouds, Nor 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 must not Credit impossibilities; yet I strive 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 aspect, 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.

_Leost._ Ha! [_Kneels._

_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,[125] 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.

_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 now I find myself possessed 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[126] 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._ 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 boldly To fill a seat among the gods, and shake off Our frail corruption.

_Leost._ Forward.

_Cleo._ Or if ever The Powers above did mask in human shapes, To teach mortality, not by cold precepts Forgot as soon as told, but by examples, To imitate their pureness, and draw near To their celestial natures, I believe He's more than man.

_Leost._ You do describe a wonder.

_Cleo._ Which will increase, when you shall understand He was a lover.

_Leost._ Not yours, lady?

_Cleo._ Yes; Loved me, Leosthenes; nay, more, so doted, (If e'er affections scorning gross desires May without wrong be styled so,) that he durst not, With an immodest syllable or look, In fear it might take from me, whom he made The object of his better part, discover I was the saint he sued to.

_Leost._ A rare temper!

_Cleo._ I cannot speak it to the worth: all praise I can bestow upon it will appear Envious 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, knowing You were a man I favour'd, he disdain'd not, Against himself, to serve you.

_Leost._ You conceal still The 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 praise Deliver'd of a mouse.

_Cleo._ The man deserves not This scorn, I can assure you.

_Leost._ Do you call What was his duty, merit?

_Cleo._ Yes, and place it As high in my esteem, as all the honours Descended 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 that I fear 't would make you proud.

_Leost._ Why, lady, can you Be won to give allowance, that your slave Should dare to love you?

_Cleo._ The immortal gods Accept the meanest altars, that are raised By pure devotions; and sometimes prefer An ounce of frankincense, honey, or milk, Before whole hecatombs, or Sabæan gums, Offer'd in ostentation.--Are you sick Of 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 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 tyrannize, 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 violence, 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, And kiss'd my hand, which I could not deny him, 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. [_Exit._

_Leost._ What a bridge Of glass I walk upon, over a river Of certain ruin, mine own weighty fears Cracking what should support me! and those helps, Which confidence lends to others, are from me Ravish'd by doubts, and wilful jealousy. [_Exit._

FOOTNOTES:

[124] Leost. _Fears! your sufferings_:--] The character of Leosthenes is every where preserved with great nicety. His jealous disposition breaks out in this scene with peculiar beauty.--GIFFORD.

[125] _Though the infringing it had call'd upon her A living funeral_, &c.] The poet alludes to the manner in which the Vestals, who had broken their vow of chastity, were punished. They had literally a _living funeral_, being plunged alive into a subterraneous cavern, of which the opening was immediately closed upon them, and walled up. The confusion of countries and customs may possibly strike the critical reader; but of this, as I have already observed, our old dramatists were either not aware or not solicitous.--GIFFORD.

[126] _To remember_,] i. e. _to remind_, in which sense it frequently occurs in our old writers.