Leon. Do not anger me.
Tim. Then thus Sir: All mislike ye,
As they would do the gods, if they did dwell with 'em.
Leon. What?
Tim. Talke and prate, as their ignorant rages
Leads 'em without Alleageance or Religion.
For Heavens sake have a care of your own person:
I cannot tell, their wickedness may lead
Farther than I dare think yet.
Leo. O base people.
Tim. Yet the Prince, for whom this is pretended may
Persuade 'em, and no doubt will: virtue is ever watchfull,
But be you still secur'd and comforted.
Leon. Heaven how have I offended, that this rod
So heavy and unnaturall, should fall upon me
When I am old and helpless.
Tim. Brave Gentl. that such a madding love should follow
thee, to rob thee of a Father:
All the Court is full of dangerous whispers.
Leon. I perceive it, and 'spight of all their strengths
Will make my safety: I'll cut him shorter.
I'll cut him shorter first, then let him rule.
Bach. What a foul Age is this, when Virtue is made a
sword to smite the virtuous! Alas, alas: