Arga. It is not likely, a virgin, of so excellent a beauty,
Should come from such a stock.
Amal. Much less, that such a youth, so sweet, so graceful,
Should be produced from peasants.
Her. Why, nature is the same in villages,
And much more fit to form a noble issue,
Where it is least corrupted.
Poly. He talks too like a man that knew the world,
To have been long a peasant. But the rack
Will teach him other language. Hence with him! [As the Guards are carrying him away, his peruke falls off.
Sure I have seen that face before. Hermogenes!
'Tis he, 'tis he, who fled away with Eubulus,
And with my dear Eudoxia.
Her. Yes, sir, I am Hermogenes;
And if to have been loyal be a crime,
I stand prepared to suffer.
Poly. If thou would'st live, speak quickly,
What is become of my Eudoxia?
Where is the queen and young Theagenes?
Where Eubulus? and which of these is mine? [Pointing to Leon. and Palm.
Her. Eudoxia is dead, so is the queen,
The infant king, her son, and Eubulus.
Poly. Traitor, 'tis false: Produce them, or—
Her. Once more
I tell you, they are dead; but leave to threaten,
For you shall know no further.
Poly. Then prove indulgent to my hopes, and be
My friend for ever. Tell me, good Hermogenes,
Whose son is that brave youth?