Leu. You are [to] blame.
Tim. No Sir: he is not to blame:
If I were as I was.
Ism. Nor as thou art, yfaith awhit [to] blame.
Leu. What's your business?
Tim. Faith Sir, I am ashamed to speak before you,
My conscience tells me I have injur'd you,
And by the earnest instigation
Of others, have not done you to the King
Always the best and friendliest offices;
Which pardon me, or I will never speak.
Ism. Never pardon him and silence a knave.
Leu. I pardon thee.
Tim. Your Mother sure is naught.
Leu. Why shouldst thou think so?
Tim. Oh noble, Sir, your honest eyes perceive not
The dangers you are led to; shame upon her,
And what fell miseries the gods can think on
Shower down upon her wicked head, she has plotted
I know too well your death: would my poor life
Or thousand such as mine is, might be offer'd
Like sacrifices up for your preserving,
What free oblations would she have to glut her,
But she is merciless, and bent to ruin;
If heaven and good men step not to your rescue,
And timely, very timely: Oh this Dukedom!
I weep, I weep for the poor Orphans i'th' Countrey
Left with but Friends or Parents.