University of Virginia Library

Scen. IV.

To him Cleodemus, Timophilus, Callimachus, Philostratus.
Cle.
Leave off this grief; The Citie's up in Arms Sir—

Mis.
How does Leucasia?

Tim.
—They're almost with us—

Phi.
—Their March is swift; Eudemus is their Captain—

Cal.
—They are resolv'd to kill, or to be kill'd—

Mis.
Hath she not slept as yet?

Cle.
Do you sleep Sir?

Tim.
Are you in such a Lethargy, that Thunder
Cannot awake you?

Mis.
Doth her wound much grieve her?

Tim.
You will be Butcher'd Sir within this half hour.

Mis.
Ha!

Phil.
You will have your throat cut presently.

Mis.
Ay!

Cal.
Pox upon this paltry nonsense Love.
Will you be made a Martyr by your slaves?

Mis.
What is the matter Captain?

Cal.
Why, the City
Is up in Arms, coming to kill you Sir.

Mis.
Let 'em do what they will. You have not told
Whether Leucasia slept or no.

Cle.
Come Sir,
On with this Sword; girt, and bestir your self.

Mis.
What would you have me do?

Tim.
Wee'd have you fight,
Or else give us directions how we shall.

Mis.
I charge you make not any shew of Battel;
Let there be no resistance; give 'em free
And unmolested passage to me: all
Is safe I'm sure, if that you'l be contented.
He that shall first lift up his hand against 'em
Shall be the first that falls.

Cle.
Then dye alone,
And perish sluggishly without resistance.

Tim.
Come let's away, and each shift for himself.

Exeunt all but Misander.