Lys. Madam, I am, and ever serv’d that Master.
Cleo. How couldst thou then come near his Enemy?
Lys. Madam, it was by his Command I came.
Cleo. How could Clemanthis love his Murderer? It is no wonder then that generous Spirit Came while I slept, and pleaded for the Prince.
Lys. What means the Princess?
Enter Pimante.
Pim. Oh, Madam, I have news to tell you that will Make you forswear ever fighting again.
Cleo. What mean you?
Pim. As I was passing through a Street of Tents,
I saw a wounded Man stretcht on the ground;
And going, as others did, to learn his Fate,
I heard him say to those that strove to help him,
Alas, my Friends, your Succours are in vain;
For now I see the Gods will be reveng’d
For brave _Clemanthis’. Murder.
How! cry’d I out, are you then one of those
Thersander sent to kill that Cavalier?
Thersander, cry’d he, had no hand in it;
But Artabazes set us on to kill him.
Here he began to faulter in his Speech;
And sure he spoke the truth, for ‘twas his last.
Cleo. This looks like Truth. Thersander’s every Action Declar’d too much of Virtue and of Honour, To be the Author of so black a Deed. —Tell him, I’ll visit him, and beg his pardon. [To Lys. who bows and goes out. —Generous Thersander, if this News be true, My Eyes shall spare some drops for injuring you.