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SCÆNA I.

Pisander, Timandra.
Pisander.
Why, thinke you, that I plot against my selfe?
Feare nothing, you are safe, these thick-skinn'd slaues,
(I vse as instruments to serue my ends)
Pierce not my deepe designes: nor shall they dare
To lift an arme against you.

Timandra.
With your will.
But turbulent spirits rais'd beyond themselues


With case, are not so soone layd: they oft proue
Dangerous to him that call'd them vp.

Pisander.
Tis true,
In what is rashly vndertooke. Long since
I haue considered seriously their natures
Proceeded with mature aduise, and know
I hold their will, and faculties in more awe
Then I can doe my owne. Now for their Licence,
And ryot in the Citie, I can make
A iust defence, and vse: it may appeare too
A polliticke preuention of such ills
As might with greater violence, and danger
hereafter be attempted; though some smart for't,
It matters not: how euer, I am resolu'd;
And sleepe you with security. Holds Cleora
Constant to her rash vow?

Timandra,
Beyond beleefe;
To me, that see her hourely, it seemes a fable.
By signes I ghesse at her commands, and serue 'em
With silence, such her pleasure is, made knowne
By holding her faire hand thus; she eates little,
Sleepes lesse, as I imagine; once a day
I leade her to this Gallery, where she walkes
Some halfe a dozen turnes, and hauing offred
To her absent Saint a sacrifice of sighes,
She points backe to her prison.

Pisander.
Guide her hither,
And make her vnderstand the slaues reuolt.
And with your vtmost eloquence enlarge
Their insolence, and Rapes done in the Citie,
Forget not to, I am their chiefe, and tell her
You strongly thinke my extreame dotage on her,
As I am Marullo, caus'd this sodaine vprore,
To make way to enioy her.

Timandra.
Punctually
I will discharge my part.

Exit Timandra. Enter Poliphron.
Poliphron.
O Sir, I sought you.
You haue mis'd the best sport. Hell, I thinke is broke loose,


There's such varietie of all disorders,
As leaping, shooting, drinking, dancing, whoring
Among the slaues; answer'd with crying, howling,
By the Citizens and their wiues: such a confusion,
(In a word, not to tyre you) as I thinke
The like was neuer reade of.

Pisander.
I share in
The pleasure, though I am absent. This is some
Reuenge for my disgrace.

Poliphron.
But Sir; I feare,
If your authority restraine them not,
They'le fire the Citie, or kill one another,
They are so apt to outrage; neither know I
Whether you wish it, and came therefore to
Acquaint you with so much.

Pisander.
I will among 'em,
But must not long be absent.

Poliphron.
At your pleasure.