Diphilus. Sleepe the Citizens?
|Or are they ouerwhelm'd with the exceſſe||20|
Leoſthenes. Wee receaue
A ſilent entertainment.
Timagoras. I long ſince
Expected, that the virgins, and the Matrons,
The old men ſtriuing with their age, the Prieſts
|Carrying the Images of their gods before 'em||25|
Archid. And vpon the Walls Enter aboue, Piſander, Poli-
Arm'd men ſeeme to defie vs! phron, Cimbrio, Gracculo &
Diphilus. I ſhould know the reſt.
Theſe faces; they are our flaues.
Timagoras. The miſterie, Raſcalls?
|Open the ports, and play not with an anger,||30|
Timoleon. This is aboue wonder.
Archid. Our Bond-men ſtand againſt vs!
Gracculo. Some ſuch things
We were in mans remembrance; the ſlaues are turn'd
Lords of the Towne, or ſo; nay, be not angry:
|Perhaps on good tearmes, giuing ſecurity,||35|
Your great lookes cannot carry it.
Cymbrio. The truth is,
We have beene bold with your wives, toy'd with your daughters.
Leoſthenes. O my prophetique ſoule!
|Gracculo. Rifled your Chefts,||40|
Timagoras. Can we indure this?
Leoſthenes. O my Cleora!
Gracculo. A Caudle, for the Gentleman,
Hee'll die a'the pip elſe.
Timagoras. Scorn'd too! are you turn'd ſtone?
Hold parley with our Bond-men? force our entrance,