CLEORA

No surely, I will not cheapen any of their Wares, Till you have made your Market: you will buy I know at any rate. Enter Timagor. Leosthe nes, Asotus, Timoleon in black, led in by Archid. Diphilus, Cleon. followed by Pisander, Gracculo, Cymbrio, and others. The less your honour. If a Virgin, 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 cloth 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. 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 Cities 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 watery 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 deer a salary for such as hazard Their blood, and lives in your defence? For me And ignorant Girl, bear witness heaven, so far I prize a Soldier, that to give him pay With such Devotion as our Flamens Offer Their Sacrifices at the holy Altar, I do lay down these jewels, will make sale Of my superfluous Wardrobe to supply The meanest of their wants. How! your Slaves? Oh stain of Honour! once more, Sir, your pardon, And to their shames, let me deliver, what I know in justice you may speak. Are you men? (For Age may qualify, though not excuse The backwardness of these) able Young men? Yet now your Countries libertie's at the stake, Honour, and glorious triumph, made the garland For such as dare deserve them; a rich Feast Prepared by Victory of immortal vyands, Not for base men, but such as with their Swords Dare force admittance, and will be her Guests, And can you coldly suffer such rewards To be proposed, to Labourers and Slaves? While you that are born Noble (to whom these Valued at their best rate, are next to Horses, Or other Beasts of carriage) cry aim, Like idle lookers on, till their proud worth Make them become your Master's? No; far, far be it from you, Let these of meaner quality contend, Who can endure most labour; Plough the earth, And think they are rewarded, when their sweat Brings home a fruitful Harvest to their Lords; Let them prove good Artificers, and serve you For use and ornament, but not presume To touch at what is Noble; if you think them Unworthy to taste of those Cates you feed on, Or wear such costly garments; will you grant them The privilege and prerogative of great minds, Which you were born to? Honour, won in war And to be styled preservers of their Country Are Titles fit for free and generous Spirits, And not for Bondmen: had I been born a man And such never dying glories made the prize To bold Heroic Courage; By Diana, I would not to my Brother, nay my Father, Be bribed to partly with the least piece of honour I should gain in this Actium. It's and honour: Gives her Scarf. And so I do receive it. And still continue ignorant, For I must be most cruel to my self, If I should teach you. May it not burn here, And as a Seamark, serve to guide true Lovers, (Tossed on the Ocean of luxurious wishes) Safe from the rocks of Lust into the harbour, Of pure affection? rising up and example, Which aftertimes shall witness, to our glory, First took from us beginning. Alas, I then was witty To plead against my self, and mine eye fixed, Upon the hill of Honour, never descended To look into the vail of certain dangers, Through which, you were to cut your passage to it. No, that must not be, For so to serve my own ends, and to gain A petty wreathe my self; I rob you of A certain triumph, which must fallen upon you, Or Virtue's turned 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 are at the heighth, 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 never return you, But grow enamoured of you. Where? This is strange! Can you think, I may be tempted? 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 impute hands, Lose both sent and beauty. Will you then confirm, That love, and jealousy, though of different nature's, Must of necessity be twins? the younger, Created only to defeat the elder, And spoil him of his Birthright: it's not well. But being to partly, I will not chide, I will not, Nor with one sillable, 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 born my self, And what and auftere 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, even starved For want of seeming matter to accuse me, Expect Leosthenes, a sharp reproof From my joust anger. Obey me, Or from this minute you are a stranger to me. And do it 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 they sure, nay doo't, if uncompelled. I lose this knot, until the hands that made it Be pleased to untie it, may consuming plagues Fallen 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, whither I live or die, My Chastity triumphs over your jealousy. It needs not, Sir, I prize him to his worth, Nay, love him truly, yet would not live slaved To his jealous humours. Since by the Hope's of heaven, As I am free from violence, in a thought I am not guilty. May that move you To pity poor Marullo. I am much distracted; in Leosthenes I can find nothing justly to accuse, But his excess of love, which I have studied To cure with more then common means, yet still It grows upon him. And if I may call My sufferings merit, I stand bound to think on Marullos dangers; though I save his life, His love is unrewarded: I confess, Both have deserved me, yet of force must be Unjust to one; such is my destiny. Enter Timandra. How now? whence flow these tears? Speak, what is it? Where is he? Oh my grieved soul! By whose command? Let them consume him; I am Mistress of my self. Where cruelty reigns, There dwells nor love, nor honour. Exit Cleora. I will buy thy danger. Take more gold, do not trouble me with thanks; I do suppose it done. Exit Jailer. Rise. I am flesh and blood, And do partake thy tortures. Indeed virtue, With which you have made evident proofs, that you Are strongly fortified, cannot fallen, though shaken With the shock of fierce temptations, but still triumphs In spite of opposition. For my self I may endeavour to confirm your goodness, (A sure retreat which never will deceive you) And with unfeigned tears express my sorrow, For what I cannot help. Which is ended In this your free confession. Enter Leosthenes and Timagoras. No, for, beleeu't, Marullo, You have won so much upon me, that I know not That happiness in my gift, but you may challenge. Against thy self. Thy malice cannot reach me. So, brother; Though you join in the Dialogue to accuse me, What I have done, I'll justify; and these favours, Which you presume will taint me in my honour; Though jealousy use all her eyes to spy out One stain in my behaviour; or Envy As many tongues to wound it, shall appear My best perfections. For to the world I can in my defence allege such reasons, As my accusers shall stand dumb to hear they, When in his Fetters this men worth and virtues But truly told shall shame your boasted glories, Which fortune claims a share in. Murder, help, Through me you shall pass to him. 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 so much been enured to truth, I know not, how to lie, Neglect, and scorn From me for this proud vaunt. You are foul mouthed. Sir, my want Of power to satisfy so great a debt, Makes me accuse my fortune - but if that Out of the bounty of your mind, you think, A free surrender of my self full payment, I gladly tender it. I forgive you. I restore This kiss, (so help me goodness,) which I borrowed, When I last saw you. If that goodness, And noble temperance (the Queen of virtues) Bridling rebellious passion (to whose sway, Such as have conquered 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 of Our frail corruption. Or if ever, The powers above did masque in humane shapes, To teach mortality, not by cold precepts Forgotten as soon as told, but by examples, To imitate their pureness, and draw near To their Celestial Nature's; I believe He's more then man. Which will increase, when you shall understand, He was a lover. Yes, Loved me, Leosthenes ; Nay more, so doted, (If clear affections scorning gross desires May without wrong be stiled so) that he durst not With and immodest syllable, or look, In fear it might take from me, whom he made The object of his better partly, discover, I was the Saint, he sued too. I cannot speak it to the worth: All praise I can bestow upon it, will appear Envious detraction. Not to rack you farther, 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 favoured, he disdained not Against himself to serve you. It's Marullo, My Father's Bondman. Why do you laugh? The man deserves not This scorn, I can assure you. 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, God in this Actium; In which I must confess you have done nobly, And I could add; As I desired; but that I fear, 'twould make you proud. The Immortal gods Accept the meanest Altars, that are raised By pure devotions; and sometime prefer And ounce of Frankincense, honey, or milk, Before whole Hecatombs, or Sabaean Gums Offered in ostentation. Are you sick Aside. Of your old disease? I'll fit you. Zealous, I grant, in the defence of virtue. Why, good Leosthenes, though I endured, A penance for you sake, above example, I have not so far sold my self, 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 possessed of That, which is only yours in expectation? That now prescribe such hard conditions to me? I vouchsafe it; Yet, I must tell you, it's a favour, that Marullo, when I was his, not mine own, Durst not presume to ask; No, when the City Bowed humbly to licentious Rapes, and lust. And when I was of men and gods forsaken, Delivered to his power, he did not press me To grace him with one look or sillable. Or urged the dispensation of and oath Made for your satisfaction; The poor wretch Having related only his own sufferings, And kissed my hand, which I could not deny him, Defending me from others, never since Solicited my favours. Well, take heed Of doubts, and fears; For know, Leosthenes, A greater injury cannot be offered To innocent chastity, then unjust suspicion. I love Marulloes 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. By Diana, It's base in both, and to their teeth I'll tell they That I am wronged in't. As going forth. In person Visit, and comfort him. There's for your privacy. Stay, unbind his hands. But it appears, You will be treated of. With me? Nor can you wish, But what my vows will second, though it were Your freedom first, and then in me full power To make a second tender of my self, And you receive the present. By this kiss (From me a virgin bounty) I will practice All arts for your deliverance; and that purchased In what concerns your father aims, I speak it, Do not despair, but hope.