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Show 388 The SPARTAN DAME. [Eatit, 2 i Much more fufpefted Criw. But that S.gn! W R u ' d it mean? So late about m y Doors, Juft as I came to thee? ^A I KforAe Signal of thofe Rogues, I! w T tount £ S g h t f informers for the State. 1 Eurv * Have you fuch Minifters? Cr?' « N o Place is free. ^Vould you were fafe. Eury. Well, Crites, I am gone. C*£ The King will foon be there. Eftrv You'll fellow me, cJit When I've fecur'd all h e r e- «<, l r JLuv Husband' Fare thee well. * ^ 5 f f " f i ? ^ ^ At the fame Time, The verv Place, fo unexpectedly, Has Lt nlm to my Houfe, to wait the King, I Us: At twelve I may expeft K m . •Tis near eleven now •Cleembrotut W t delay me long: For w t a £ « My Office only gmdes ton, » * ^ ° ^ .d And then to make all fure, 1 » » * ? * ? A hearty Welcome for the good old King. Enter Timwus. Ttm. The good old King! Crit. Timsus, by thy Voice Thou'rt come before tfcrTfflt 1 Xiw. I come by your Command. S'^ASTb-H ftay till he fet forward. Crit. Is he commg then? Tim. I ^ w him mounted. Crit. H o w attended ? Km. Almoft, Sir, alone. <#, The SPARTAN DAME. 389 Crit. H e muft be near. Tim. H e cannot be far off. furytion, Sir, already is arriv'd. Crit. W a i t for me*at m y Houfe. Ill follow thee; [Timseus goes ouu This is unlucky there's n o paufing n o w: Thinking but lofes T i m e : I muft be gone. Love muft attend the Leifure of the State: A-Angle Fortune, this a Nation's Fate. [Going out, meets Cleombrotus Cleom. Who's this V Crit. Cleombrotus. [Afide. Cleom. Crites, I think. Crit. Still worfe and worfe; [Afide. Cleom. Thou wert in Hafte. Crit. Imagine, Sir, the Caufe. [Going; Cleom.I know the Caufe: Iftaid beyond m y Time, and thou wert going To find m e out, but I have fpar'd thy Pains. This is the Door: N o w , m y Thelamia I What! Thou art uneafy ftill. Crit. I beg you wou'd Believe, that nothing, but a Certainty Of my beft Service to you, cou'd perfwade m e To leave you now. Cleom. H o w , Crites\ At this Time! and call it Service? Crit. Nay, m y Duty, Sir. Cleom. N o going, Man; thy Duty n o w lies here* Crit. To-morrow will convince you. Cleom. Thou art mad. Am I not at the Entrance of m y Joys ? Invited by thy o w n Appointment too ? Crit. But Accidents - Cleom. There are in Fortune none: 1 conquer her in m y Thelamia. Crit. To-morrow fhe fhall be with Safety yours; Cleom. I wonnot truft To-morrow: N o w is mine. Crit. This will undo us all. [Afide) Cleom. N o Words, but on. G*it. Let m e but f p e a k - R 3 Cleom) |