University of Virginia Library

SCENE 3.

To them enter Cleobulus.
Cl.
The plot pleases me well, onely I wonder,
Isachius would make use o'th'Persians.
Our countrey men alone i'de have imployed.

Duc.
Why would not you have Persians brought in.

Cle.
Because they'r Persians,

Lap.
Is their name a sin.

Cle.
No but their nation will cause our smart,

Lap.
It is a nation full of bravery,
They honour acts, which the rude Turks contemn,
And are preservers of nobility.

Cle.
Their own, perchance, all other they destroy.

Duc.
They love us well.

Cle.
Because our Ancestors
Deprived theirs, of the worlds Monarchy.

Lap.
That antiquated quarrel's quite forgot,
They love us now because we hate the Turks.

Cle.
The cunning Ivy thus doth love the Oake,
Imbrace and rob and soak i'ts moysture out,
“I love not forraign aid if not supprest.
“He may turn Landlord who is now our guest.

Duc.
Their power wee'l bound, with politique restrictions.

Cle.
First we let in the sea, then raise a bank.

Duc.
There shall be but some few of them imploy'd,

Cle.
Their help then will not be considerable.
And may be wholly spar'd

Duc.
By few, I mean.
No more then we can wield and manage well.

Cle.
Under pretence of few, swarms will croud in.

Lap.
They shall command no Ports or place of strength

Cle.
If they have strength they will command our Ports.

Lap.
Weel keep them in continuall action,
So either they will wast away in war,
Or else when peace depart.

Cle.
Or else they'l stay, and share with us;

Lap.
Nay, when their work is done,
Wee'l pay their wages, and so pack them hence.

Cle.
What if they have a mind to pay themselves?

Duc.
They'r bound from it, by solemn Articles.

Cle.
Power keeps no promise, cancels all conditions,
I know all Persia well it stretcheth out,
To th'Caspian sea, all Winter in the North.
Whence with an ample compass bending South;
A long the Arabick gulf 'tis parcht with heat.

Lap.
'Tis wonderful that
The torrid and the frozen Zone should meet,
No temperate clime to keep them two asunder.

Cle.
I tell you truth, and think they'l ne'r forsake,
Our shady groves and smiling meadows and,
Return to frownings in heath, and bald-pate hills,
They which did freely slice our fattest bief,
Won't stoop their stomack to their hungry rise.
And having learn't with us to swill in wine,
They'l ne're confine their throats to water springs,
I know not what you witty men may think.
But twill ne'r sink unto my blockish brains,
That they'l return, but if they do retire,
I'le wonder at them.

Exeunt omnes.