_Leost._ I speak In the way of supposition, and entreat you, With all the fervour of a constant lover, That you would free yourself from these aspersions, Or any imputation black-tongued slander Could throw on your unspotted virgin whiteness: To which there is no easier way, than by Vouchsafing him your favour; him, to whom, Next to the general, and the gods and fautors[130], The country owes her safety. _Timag._ Are you stupid? 'Slight! leap into his arms, and there ask pardon.-- Oh! you expect your slave's reply; no doubt We shall have a fine oration: I will teach My spaniel to howl in sweeter language, And keep a better method. _Archid._ You forget The dignity of the place. _Diph._ Silence! _Timol._ [_to Marullo._] Speak boldly. _Mar._ 'Tis your authority gives me a tongue; I should be dumb else; and I am secure, I cannot clothe my thoughts, and just defence, In such an abject phrase, but 'twill appear Equal, if not above my low condition. I need no bombast language, stolen from such As make nobility from prodigious terms The hearers understand not; I bring with me No wealth to boast of, neither can I number Uncertain fortune's favours with my merits; I dare not force affection, or presume To censure her discretion, that looks on me As a weak man, and not her fancy's idol. How I have loved, and how much I have suffer'd, And with what pleasure undergone the burden Of my ambitious hopes, (in aiming at The glad possession of a happiness, The abstract of all goodness in mankind Can at no part deserve), with my confession Of mine own wants, is all that can plead for me. But if that pure desires, not blended with Foul thoughts, that, like a river, keeps his course, Retaining still the clearness of the spring From whence it took beginning, may be thought Worthy acceptance; then I dare rise up, And tell this gay man to his teeth, I never Durst doubt her constancy, that, like a rock, Beats off temptations, as that mocks the fury Of the proud waves; nor, from my jealous fears, Question that goodness to which, as an altar Of all perfection, he that truly loved Should rather bring a sacrifice of service, Than raze it with the engines of suspicion: Of which, when he can wash an Æthiop white, Leosthenes may hope to free himself; But, till then, never. _Timag._ Bold, presumptuous villain! _Mar._ I will go further, and make good upon him, I' the pride of all his honours, birth, and fortunes, He's more unworthy than myself. _Leost._ Thou liest. _Timag._ Confute him with a whip, and, the doubt decided, Punish him with a halter.