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Show 1 I 1 390 The SPARTAN DAME. Cleom. I will have no Excufe s fhow me the Way, Crit. Hear but m y Reafons firft ~ Cleom. Forward, I fay: Confider w h o I am. Crit. M y R o p l Mafter. Cleom. Then thy King command?. Crit I muft be heard, and then---- Cleom- Is this a Time, Thou fawcy Trifler, for Argument? [£<tf& fpeaking together, wither hears. Cleom When Expectation Crit. This is the Time, or rages in m y Blood, I muft never fpeak: And fhoots a thoufand Fc- I would conceal it from you, vrs thro'my Veins? but therejs [you, Is this a Time,thou Prater! hence, begone Still he goes on, and louder in his Words! Not let m e fpeak! this is an lnfolence, That never yet was offer'd to a King, And fhou'd be anfwer'd by a Dagger, thus, N o w a neceftity of telling Your Life,your Crown, your Empire are at Stake: Leonidas, the banifh'd King, is n o w Within your Pow'r, if y wou'd fave us all, This is your Time, an Of. portunity tnus, L^i'k^e t*h•i*s> y'o»u J c-a nn-o t h-op-e..~ r. [As Cleombrotus offers to flab him, Cntcs flops, aHeom* Cleom. Impudent Slave ! Open thy Lips again Upon this Subject, this fhall lock 'em raft, A< clofe, and filent, as the jaws of Death. Forward, and introduce m e to.her Arms, And on thy Life ftir'not till m y return. [Uxeunt. SCENE CelonaV Apartment. Celona, Servant, and Leonidas. ^ Celo. One in difguife? fome Meffafe from-j father • Admit him: Leave the Room---tis he himieit Thus on m y Knees, thus let m e thanks the Gods, W h o let m e fee « a King again in Sparta. ^Leon. Celona, rife: the Pofture «[toohumble, - N o t tor the Daughter of a bamfhd King, << Nor for the Wile of fatfe Clmmbrow* M The SPARTAN DAME. 391 But misbecomes that haughty Excellence, Which knows to form new Virtue, and w o u d fhine A Pattern to the uninftrucled World. Celo. Indeed m y Fate, with intricate Misfortune Has compafs'd round m y Virtue. Wife and Daughter! Each different Duty fhows a Precipice, Where-e'er I turn m y Eyes: But yet m y Honour, That fteddily wou'd tread the narrow Path, Looks with Contempt upon the pageant Greatnefs, And moft inclines where there is moft Misfortune. Leo. It may incline too much. Celo. Too much it cannot. You feem'd, and yet I wou'd not think you did, You feem'd to tax the Conduct of m y Virtue. But yet that Power, w h o places fuch as me, In labouring Mazes of an anxious Fate, Who damps the Joys of all our prefent Hours, And pays us with the Promife of a Name, Shall fee that I fubmit to his Decrees, (If I a m roa^'d for glorious Wretchednefs) To fhine the Pattern of a Spartan Daughter. Leon. That Fame's too narrow f6r a Spartan Princefs, Celona too fhou'd be a Spartan Wife. Celo. " T o be his Wife, I need not be his Queen: M And Sparta wonnot think roe lefs her own, « W h e n I refufe the guilt of Majefty, « And, if there can be Glory there, the Glory, « For Innocence, and Ruine with a Father. » Leo. Indeed for Ruine, not for Innocence, « And fuch a Ruine, as involves that Father: « Juft when his Soul rofe from the Stroak of C h nee, « And ftood, with fcorn, fecure upon his broken Kifig- " dom. « That makes m e rage at the portentous Beauty, " Which firft betray'd m e to thy Mother's Arms, « And gave the murdring Viper to the World. Celo. Have I offended then ? Leon. Offended! O ! Thou in a Moment wouldft deface thofe Trophies, Which m y laborious Anceftors, thro' Ages, R 4. Toiling |
