Arta. Oh, there’s no doubt, but we’ll depopulate Scythia, And lead its King, with the vain Prince his Son, Loaden with Irons, to adorn your Triumphs.
Ther. Madam, I must confess your Force is great,
And the Assistance of these Men considerable;
Yet I advise your Majesty to prepare
For the Defeat of the great King of Scythia,
As to a Business much more difficult
Than they present it to you: for I know
The Forces of that Nation are not less.
[Looks with scorn on them.
—Consider too, that King was never conquer’d,
Though these believe to do’t with so much ease.
I oft have seen Thersander, that young Prince,
Upon whose Sword Fortune her self depends,
—And I can tell—he’s not so easily chain’d,
As, Artabazes, you imagine him.
Arta. What, do you think to fright us with the Praises
You give our Enemies?
—I have heard of that King, and of Thersander too;
But never heard of so much Terror in ‘em,
Should make us apprehend an ill Success;
—And you, Clemanthis, do not know us well,
To think we’ll tremble for the Prince of Scythia,
Though many such as you should take his part.
Ther. How, many such as I! [Gomes up to his Breast. Gods! with your selves no other Enemies To join with that young Prince; To conquer him and many such as I, Requires a Number of such Kings as you.
Ism. It is too much, Clemanthis; were you well Affected to the Service of the Queen, You would not thus commend her Enemies.
Ther. Madam, I humbly beg your Pardon,
I have fail’d in the Respect I owe you,
By what I’ve said in favour of your Enemies,
Whom, whilst you think so easily o’ercome,
You will neglect that Power should make you Victor.
Qu. ‘Tis Virtue, Sir, that makes you give what’s due,
Though to the Advantage of those Men you hate—
—I must not have you take ought ill from him. [To the King.
But as you’ve all unanimously join’d
To assist us in this War, so all embrace,
[Ther. salutes ‘em coldly.
Be one and ever Friends.
Brother, I leave the Conduct of this hopeful Army [To Hon.
To your unquestion’d Care; and if you can,
Oblige this noble Stranger for ever in our Service.
Cleo. Uncle, I’ll to the Camp with you; And you, Clemanthis, must be near me still.
[Ther. bows. All go out but Ther. Hon. Lysan.
Hon. Clemanthis, you are troubled.