 | The Bond-Man : or, Love and Liberty |  |
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Act IV.
Scene I.
Enter Pisander and Timandra.Pisan.
She has her Health then?
Timan.
Yes, Sir, and as often
As I speak of you, lends attentive Ear
To all that I deliver; nor seems tir'd,
Though I dwell long on the Relation of
Your Suff'rings for her, heaping Praise on Praise,
On your unequal Temperance and Command
You hold o'er your Affections.
Pisan.
To my Wish!
Have you acquainted her with the Defeat
Of the Carthaginians, and with what Honours
Leosthenes comes Home crown'd with?
Timan.
With all Care.
Pisan.
And how does she receive it?
Timan.
As I guess,
With a seeming kind of Joy, but yet appears not
Transported, or proud of his happy Fortune.
But when I tell her of the certain Ruin
You must encounter with at their Arrival
In Syracusa, and that Death with Torments
Must fall upon you—
Pisan.
Does she then pity my Misfortunes?
Timan.
She express'd
All Signs of Sorrow; at the first hearing
She fell upon her Face, rent her fair Hair,
Her Hands held up to Heaven, and vented Sighs,
In which she silently seem'd to complain
Of Heaven's Injustice.
Pisan.
Enough! Wait carefully,
And upon all watch'd Occasions, continue
Speech, and discourse of me: 'Tis Time must work her.
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I'll not be wanting, but still strive to serve you.
[Exit Timandra.
Enter Poliphron.
Pisan.
Now, Poliphron, the News?
Poliph.
The conqu'ring Army
Is within our View.
Pisan.
How brook the Slaves the Object?
Poliph
Chearfully yet; they do refuse no Labour,
And seem to scoff at Danger: 'Tis your Presence
That must confirm them. With a full Consent
You are chosen to relate the Tyranny
Of our proud Masters; and what you subscribe to
They gladly will allow of, or hold it out
Ev'n to the last Man.
Pisan.
I'll instantly among 'em:
If we prove constant to our selves, good Fortune
Will not, I hope, forsake us.
Poliph.
That, Sir, indeed, is now our only Refuge.
[Exeunt.
Trumpets flourish an Overture of Victory.
Enter Timoleon, Archidamus, Diphilus, Leosthenes, Timagoras, and others.
Timol.
Thus far we are return'd Victorious, crown'd
With Wreaths triumphant;
And have now brought Home
Security and Peace.—'Tis therefore fit
That such as boldly stood the Shock of War,
And with the dear Expence of Sweat and Blood
Have purchas'd Honour, should with Pleasure reap
The Harvest of their Toil; and we stand bound,
Out of the first File of the best Deservers,
Lo think of you, Leosthenes, that stand,
And worthily most dear in our Esteem,
For your heroick Valour.
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When I look on
(The Labour of so many Men and Ages)
This well-built City, not long since design'd
To Spoil and Rapine, by the Favour of
The Gods, and you their Ministers, preserv'd,
I cannot in my Heighth of Joy but offer
These Tears for a glad Sacrifice.
Diph.
Sleep the Citizens?
Or are they o'erwhelm'd with the Excess
Of Comfort that flows to them,
That here they meet us not.
Leost.
We receive
A silent Entertainment.
Timag.
I long since expected,
That the Virgins and the Matrons,
The old Men striving with their Age, the Priests
Carrying the Images of their Gods before 'em,
Should have met us with Procession.—Ha! the Gates
Are shut against us!
Enter upon the Walls, Pisander, Poliphron, Cimbrio, Gracculo, &c.
Archid.
And upon the Walls
Arm'd Men seem to defy us!
Diph.
I should know
These Faces.—They are our Slaves!
Timag.
The Mystery, Rascals?
Open the Ports, and play not with an Anger
That will consume you.
Timol.
This is above Wonder!
Archid.
Our Bond-men stand against us!
Grac.
Some such Things
We were in Man's Remembrance.—
The Slaves are turn'd
Lords of the Town, or so.—Nay, be not angry;
Perhaps, on good Terms, giving Security,
You will be quiet Men, we may allow you
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Your great Looks cannot carry it.
Cimb.
The Truth is,
We have made a little bold with your Wives,
Toy'd with your Daughters, or so, Sir.
Leost.
O my prophetick Soul!
Grac.
Rifled your Chests,
Been busy with your Wardrobes.
Timag.
Can we endure this?
Leost.
Oh! my Cleora!
Grac.
A Crawdle for the Gentleman;
He'll die o'th'Pip else.
Timag.
Scorn'd too! Are you turn'd Stone?
Hold Parley with our Bond-men? Force our Entrance,
Then Villains expect—
Timol.
Hold! You wear Mens Shapes,
And if like Men you have Reason, shew a Cause
That leads you to this desp'rate Course, which must End
In your Destruction.
Grac.
That as please the Fates;
But we vouchsafe—Speak Captain.
Timag.
Hell and Furies!
Archid.
Bay'd by our own Currs;
Cimb.
Take heed you be not worry'd.
Polip.
We are sharp set.
Cimb.
And sudden.
Pisand.
Briefly thus then,
Since I must speak for all.—Your Tyranny
Drew us from our Obedience. Happy those Times
When Lords were styl'd Fathers of Families,
And not imperious Masters; when they number'd
Their Servants almost equal with their Sons,
Or one Degree beneath them; when their Labours
Were cherish'd and rewarded, and a Period
Set to their Suff'rings.
Humanity then lodg'd in the Hearts of Men,
And thankful Masters carefully provided
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That in his fiery Youth from his wide Nostrils
Neigh'd Courage to his Rider, and broke through
Groves of oppos'd Pikes, bearing his Lord
Safe to triumphant Vict'ry, old or wounded,
Was set at Liberty, and freed from Service:
The Athenian Mules, that from the Quarry drew
Marble, hew'd for the Temples of the Gods,
The great Work ended, were dismiss'd, and fed
At the publick Cost; nay, faithful Dogs have found
Their Sepulchres; but Man, to Man more cruel,
Appoints no End to the Suff'rings of his Slave;
Who, grown unuseful,
Are less esteem'd than Beasts.—This you have practis'd,
Practis'd on us with Rigour: This has forc'd us
To shake our heavy Yokes off; and if Redress
Of these just Grievances be not granted us,
We'll right our selves, and by strong Hand defend
What we are now possess'd of.
Grac.
And not leave
One House unfir'd.
Cimb.
Or Throat uncut of those
We have in our Power.
Polip.
Nor will we fall alone; we are resolv'd
That you shall buy us dearly.
Timag.
Oh! the Gods!
Unheard of Insolence!
Timol.
What are your Demands?
Pisand.
A general Pardon first for all Offences
Committed in your Absence: Liberty
To all such as desire to make return
Into their Countries; and to those that stay,
A Competency of Land freely allotted
To each Man's proper Use; no Lord acknowledg'd.
Lastly, with your Consent, to choose them Wives
Out of your Families.
Timag.
Let the City sink first!
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And Ruin seize on all, ere we subscribe
To such Conditions.
Archid.
Carthage, tho' victorious,
Could not have forc'd more from us.
Leost.
Scale the Walls!
Capitulate after.
Timol.
He that wins the Top first,
Shall wear a mural Wreath.
[Exeunt.
Pisan.
Each to his Place.
[Shouts and Alarms without.
Or Death or Victory.—
Charge them Home, and fear not.
Enter Timoleon, Archidamus, Diphilus, Leosthenes, Timagoras, and other Senators.
Timol.
We wrong our selves, and we are justly punish'd,
To deal with Bond-men as if we encounter'd
An equal Enemy.
Archid.
They fight like Devils;
And run upon our Swords, as if their Breasts
Were Proof beyond their Armour.
Timag.
Make a firm Stand.—
The Slaves not satisfy'd, they have beat us off;
Prepare to sally forth.
Timol.
They are wild Beasts,
And to be tam'd by Policy.—Each Man take
A tough Whip in his Hand, such as you us'd
To punish them, as Masters: In your Looks
Carry Severity and Awe; 'twill fright them
More than your Weapons: Salvage Lions fly from
The Sight of Fire; and these that have forgot
That Duty you ne'er taught them with your Swords,
When, unexpected, they behold those Terrors
Advanc'd aloft, that they were made to shake at,
'Twill force them to remember what they are,
And stoop to do Obedience.
[Exeunt, and return with Whips.
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Archid.
Here they come.
Cimb.
Leave not a Man alive: A Wound is but a Flea biting
To what we suffer'd being Slaves.
Grac.
Oh! my Heart!
Cimbrio, what do we see? The Whip! Our Masters!
Timag.
Dare you rebel, Slaves?
[Senators shake their Whips, and they throw away their Weapons, and run off.
Cimb.
Mercy, Mercy! Where
Shall we hide us from their Fury?
Grac.
Fly! they follow!
Oh! we shall be tormented.
Timol.
Enter with them;
But yet forbear to kill them: Still remember
They are Part of your Wealth; and, being disarm'd,
There is no Danger.
Archid.
Let us first deliver
Such as they have in Fetters, and at Leisure
Determine of their Punishment.
Leost.
Friend, to you
I leave the Disposition of what's mine:
I cannot think I am safe without your Sister.—
She's only worth my Thought; and 'till I see
What she has suffer'd, I am on the Rack,
And Furies my Tormentors.
[Exeunt.
Enter Pisander and Timandra.
Pisand.
I know I am pursu'd; nor would I fly,
Altho' the Ports were open, and a Convoy
Ready to bring me off.—The Baseness of
These Villains, from the Pride of all my Hopes,
Have thrown me to the Bottomless Abyss
Of Horror and Despair: Had they stood firm,
I could have bought Cleora's free Consent
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And forc'd Leosthenes to quit his Claim,
And kneel a Suitor to me.
Timand.
You must not think
What might have been, but what must now be practis'd,
And suddenly resolve.
Pisand.
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 enquire
The Reason why, but help me.
[Knocking without.
Timand.
Make haste.—One knocks—
[Exit. Pisand.
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 Suff'rings
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 did'st not;
Or that I could not read upon thy Face,
In blushing Characters, the Story of
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Accountable for a Sin, against whose Strength
Your o'er-match'd Innocence could make no Resistance:
Under which Odds I know Cleora fell too,
Heav'n's Help in vain invok'd—Th'amazed Sun,
Hiding his Face behind a Mask of Clouds,
Not daring to look on't—In her Sufferings
All Sorrow's comprehended—What Timandra,
Or the City has endur'd, (her Loss consider'd)
Deserves not to be nam'd.
Timand.
Pray you, do not bring, Sir,
In the Chimera's 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 Elyzian Shades hereafter,
—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 forc'd thy Lady,
(Thy Ravisher I will enquire at Leisure)
That when hereafter I behold a Stranger
But near him in Aspect, I may conclude,
Tho' Men and Angels should proclaim him honest,
He is a Hell-bred Villain.
Timand.
You are unworthy
To know she is preserv'd, preserv'd untainted.
Sorrow (but only ill bestow'd) hath made
A Rape upon her Comforts in your Absence.
[Exit, and returns with Cleora.
Come forth, dear Madam.
Leost.
Ha!
[Kneels.
Timan.
Nay, she deserves
The Bending of your Heart, that, to content you,
Has kept a Vow, the Breach of which a Vestal
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No Danger could compel her to dispense with
Her cruel Penance; tho' hot Lust came arm'd
To seize upon her; when one Look, or Accent,
Might have redeem'd her.
Leost.
Might? O do not shew me
A Beam of Comfort, and strait 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.
Timan.
Free her from her Oath,
Herself can best deliver it.
Leost.
O blest Office!
[Takes off the Scarf.
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 possess'd of—Now I behold
True Light indeed—
Open these long-shut Lips, and strike my Ears
With Musick more harmonious than the Spheres
Yield in their Heavenly Motions: And if ever
A true Submission for a Crime acknowledg'd
May find a gracious Hearing, teach your Tongue
In the first sweet articulate Sounds it utters
To sign my wish'd for Pardon.
Cleor.
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;
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?
Cleor.
I restore
This Kiss, (so help me Goodness) which I borrow'd
When I saw you.
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Miracle of Vertue! Yet I cannot
Fix here; but must enquire the Man, to whom
I stand indebted for a Benefit,
Which, to requite full, tho' in this Hand
I grasp'd all Scepters the Worlds Empire bows to,
Would leave me a poor Bankrupt—Name him, Lady;
If 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.
Cleor.
If that Goodness,
And noble Temperance, bridling rebellious Passions,
Did ever wing great Minds to fly to Heaven;
He that preserv'd mine Honour, may hope boldly
To fill a Seat among the Gods, and shake off
Our frail Corruption.
Leost.
You describe a Wonder.
Cleor.
Which will increase, when you shall understand
He was a Lover.
Leost.
A Lover! Oh, my Heart!
Cleor.
Yes,
Lov'd me, Leosthenes: Nay more, so passionately
That he durst not,
With an immodest Syllable, or Look,
Discover I was the Saint he sigh'd for.
Leost.
Is't possible!
Cleor.
I cannot speak him to his Worth:
All Praise I can bestow upon him, will appear
Envious Detraction. Not to rack you farther,
Yet make the Miracle full; tho', of all Men,
He hated you, Leosthenes, as his Rival,
So high yet priz'd my Content, that knowing
You were a Man I favour'd, he disdain'd,
Against himself to serve you.
Leost.
You conceal still
The owner of these Excellencies.
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'Tis Marullo,
My Father's Bond-man.
Leost.
I have not deserv'd your Mockery, Lady.
Cleor.
Nor he your Scorn!
Leost.
Do you call
What was his Duty, Merit?
Cleor.
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 confers, you have done nobly.
And I could add—as I desir'd—but that
I fear, 'twould make you proud.
Leost.
Oh, Heaven! Can you
Be won to give Allowance, that your Slave
Should dare to love you?
Cleor.
The Immortal Gods
Accept the meanest Altars that are rais'd
By pure Devotions; and sometimes prefer
The poorest Frankincense, Honey, or Milk,
Before whole Hecatombes, or Sabæan Gums,
Offer'd in Ostentation—Are you sick
Of your old Disease? I'll fit you.
[Aside.
Leost.
You seem mov'd.
Cleor.
Zealous, I grant, in the Defence of Vertue.
Why, good Leosthenes, tho' I endur'd
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.
Forgive me! One Kiss, and I am silenc'd.
Cleor.
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
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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 urg'd 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.
Cleor.
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 Mind, and 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—If you fail,
I will not threaten; but remember—
Your Gen'rous Rival spar'd me in his Power;
He's now in yours, I ask of you no more.
[Exit.
Leost.
What a Bridge
Of Glass I walk upon, over a River
Of certain Ruin; my own weighty Fears
Cracking what should support me—And those Helps
Which Confidence yields to others, are from me
Ravish'd by Doubts and anxious Jealousy.
[Exit.
Enter Timagoras, Cleon, Asotus, Corisca, Olimpia.
Cleon,
But are you sure we are safe?
Timag.
You need not fear;
They are all under Guard; their Fangs par'd off;
The Wounds their Insolence gave you, to be cur'd
With the Balm of your Revenge.
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And shall I be
The Thing I was born, my Lord?
Timag.
The same wise Thing—
'Slight, what a Beast they have made thee! Africk never
Produc'd the like.
Asot.
I think so—Nor the Land
Where Apes and Monkeys grow, like Crabs and Wallnuts,
On the same Tree. Not all the Catalogue
Of Conjurers, or wise Women, bound together,
Could have so soon transform'd me, as my Rascal
Did with his Whip; not in Outside only,
But in my own Belief, I thought myself
As perfect a Baboon—
Timag.
An Ass thou wert ever.
Asot.
And would have given one Leg, with all my Heart,
To have been a Man again,
Tho' I had dy'd on Crutches.
Cleon,
Never Varlets
So triumph'd o'er an old fat Man—I was famish'd.
Timag.
Indeed, you are fall'n away.
Asot.
Three Years of Feeding
On Cullises and Jelly, tho' his Cooks
Lard all he eats with Marrow, or his Doctors
Pour in his Mouth Restoratives as he sleeps,
Will not recover him.
Timag.
But your Ladyship looks sad on the Matter.
Coris.
Pray you, forbear—I am an alter'd Woman.
Timag.
So it seems;
A Part of your Honour's Coife stands out of Rank too.
Coris.
No Matter, I have other Thoughts.
Timag.
O strange!
Not ten Days since, it would have vex'd you more
Than the Loss of your good Name—Pity this Cure
For your proud Itch came no sooner! Marry, Olympia
Seems to bear up still.
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I complain not, Sir;
I have born my Fortune patiently.
Timag.
Thou wert ever
An excellent Bearer; so is all your Tribe,
If you may choose your Carriage—How now, Friend,
Looks our Cleora lovely?
Enter Leosthenes and Diphilus, with Guards.
Leost.
In my Thoughts, Sir.
Timag.
But why this Guard?
Diph.
It is Timoleon's Pleasure;
The Slaves have been examin'd, and confess
Their Riot took beginning from your House:
And the first Mover of them to Rebellion,
Your Slave Marullo.
Leost.
Ha! I more than fear.
Timag.
Then search boldly.
Enter Timandra.
Timand.
You are unmanner'd Grooms
To prie into my Lady's private Lodgings;
There's no Marullo's there.
Enter Diphilus with Pisander.
Timag.
Now I suspect too—
Where found you him?
Diph.
Close hid in your Sister's Chamber.
Timag.
Is that the Villain's Sanctuary?
Leost.
This confirms
All she deliver'd, false.
Timag.
But that I scorn
To rust my Sword in thy slavish Blood,
Thou now wert dead.
Pisand.
He that insults upon unweapon'd Innocence,
Is more a Slave than Fortune or Misery can make me.
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Do you prate, you Dog?
Pisand.
Curs snap at Lions in the Toil, whose looks
Frighted them, being free.
Timag.
As a wild Beast,
Drive him before you.
Pisand.
O, divine Cleora!
Leost.
Dar'st thou presume to name her?
Pisand.
Yes, and love her:
And may say, have deserv'd her.
Timag.
Stop his Mouth:
Load him with Irons too.
[Exit Guard with Pisand.
Cleon.
I am deadly sick
To look on him.
Asot.
If he get loose, I know it,
I caper like an Ape again—I feel
The Whip already.
Timand.
This goes to my Lady.
[Aside.
Timag.
Come, cheer up, Sir; we'll urge his Punishment
To the full Satisfaction of your Anger.
Leost.
He is not worth my Thoughts—No Corner left,
In all the spacious Rooms of my vex'd Heart,
But is fill'd with Cleora—And the Rape
She's done upon her Honour, with my Wrong,
The heavy Burden of my Sorrow's Song.
[Exeunt.
| The Bond-Man : or, Love and Liberty | |