[113] _That_ THING OF THINGS.] A literal translation, as Mr. M. Mason observes, of ENS ENTIUM. I know not where Pisander acquired his revolutionary philosophy: his golden chain, perhaps, he found in Homer.--GIFFORD. [114] _For commodities_, &c.] i. e. _for wares_, of which the needy borrower made what he could. Our old writers are extremely pleasant on the heterogeneous articles which the usurers of their days forced on the necessity of the thoughtless spendthrift in lieu of the money for which he had rashly signed. Fielding has imitated them in his Miser, without adding much to their humour; and Foote, in The Minor, has servilely followed his example. The spectators of those scenes probably thought that the writers had gone beyond real life, and drawn on imagination for their amusement: but transactions (not altogether proper, perhaps, to be specified here) have actually taken place in our own times, which leave their boldest conceptions at an humble distance; and prove, beyond a doubt, that, in the arts of raising money, the invention of the most fertile poet must yield to that of the meanest scrivener.--GIFFORD. ACT III. SCENE I. _The same. A Gallery in_ ARCHIDAMUS'_s House_. _Enter_ MARULLO _and_ TIMANDRA. _Mar._ Why, think you that I plot against myself[115]? Fear nothing, you are safe: these thick-skinn'd slaves, I use as instruments to serve my ends, Pierce not my deep designs; nor shall they dare To lift an arm against you. _Timand._ With your will. But turbulent spirits, raised beyond themselves With ease, are not so soon laid; they oft prove Dangerous to him that call'd them up. _Mar._ 'Tis true, In what is rashly undertook. Long since I have consider'd seriously their natures, Proceeded with mature advice, and know I hold their will and faculties in more awe Than I can do my own. Now, for their licence, And riot in the city, I can make A just defence and use: it may appear, too, A politic prevention of such ills As might, with greater violence and danger, Hereafter be attempted; though some smart for 't, It matters not:--however, I'm resolved; And sleep you with security. Holds Cleora Constant to her rash vow? _Timand._ Beyond belief; To me, that see her hourly, it seems a fable. By signs I guess at her commands, and serve them With silence; such her pleasure is, made known By holding her fair hand thus. She eats little, Sleeps less, as I imagine; once a day I lead her to this gallery, where she walks Some half a dozen turns, and, having offer'd To her absent saint a sacrifice of sighs, She points back to her prison.